Father, please forgive me, for I have sinned. It has been 6 days 23 hours and 17 minutes since my last confession.

Every Sunday, I have an internal battle that happens, and no matter how much preparing I do—trying to stop my battle from happening—it still happens.

Every. Single. Sunday.

Without fail.

You know that cute little primary song about how Saturday is a special day? The day we get ready for Sunday? Well. I have tried to do as it says. Every Saturday, I try my hardest. I clean my house, and I shop at the store (so I won't have to work until Monday). And yet, every single Sunday I find myself not only working, but sometimes…

{{Leaning in close to whisper}}

… I'm shopping at the store.

GASP!

I know. Thrust me right this instant down to hell. Do not stop, do not pass go and DO NOT collect your freaking two hundred dollars.

It doesn't matter how much time and energy I put into making sure I have every single little thing we would need for our Sabbath enjoyment (including the soda AND candy), 3 out of the 4 Sunday's I find myself at the store. I could blame it on the whole 1pm church time, but that would be too simple. Sitting around all morning long with nothing to do but holding hands and singing Kum Bah Ya can make anyone a little stir crazy. But, I don't know if it's really that simple. I am beginning to think that really, it's me. I have a problem.

I wake up in the morning, thinking "Man. Why didn't I remember to buy that? If I had bought that, then I could totally make this." I'll then wander around the house arguing with myself as to why making that really isn't necessary. Sometimes my good side wins, but more often than not, my bad side is triumphant.

Then, before I regain conscientiousness, I am on my way to hell the store. Sometimes I go just so that I can get an extra paper to cut out all those coupons that I will then never use. Sometimes it's legit—I didn't see that the dog has zero food and she is now starving. Sometimes I didn't think to notice that the baby had only enough formula for 3 more bottles. That is clearly not enough to get you through an entire Sabbath day.

When I am trying my hardest to be all righteous, I watch the people on Saturdays, doing their Saturday chores, and I wonder if they ever slip up. Are they as perfect as they seem? Because they are shopping at the store, and cleaning their houses and mending their clothes so they don't have to work until Monday. So, what am I doing wrong that it is so difficult for me to follow through with that one little principal? Why can't I seem to keep the Sabbath day holy?

I know. I know. They really aren't perfect—but it sure seems like it and like they never do anything wrong. Like ever. Especially when I find myself driving down my perfectly quiet street on a Sunday morning headed straight to hell the store.

Sigh.

Oh well. Here's to next week and the hope that I can shush those nasty creepers that talk me into going to hell the store.