Not a day of rest

I remember a time, not too long ago, when Sundays were a day of rest. Sundays were the day that we got up early, my Mom fixed our hair (bows, lots of bows) and put in our earrings (hoops for Sunday School), we went to Sunday School where we sang songs and learned about people in the Bible and usually did a craft. We'd sit in "big church" with my great-Grandma (she always had mint and butterscotch candies) and listen, sometimes coloring or drawing on the offering envelopes in the pew. I remember being small enought to stand on the pew beside my Mom during hymns or prayer, or when our preacher read from the Bible. I have wonderful memories of the people who taught me in Sunday School and especially of Mr. Bill, who was our Minister of Music, and Mike, who at that time was our Minister of Education, who led us in recreation and devotions every Monday and Tuesday after school when the church bus picked us up for Choir and handbells. But I digress. It is of Sundays I write today; the day when you could almost guarantee lunch of fried chicken, potato salad, green beans, biscuits, tomatoes, cantaloupe ... and a nice, long nap while Mom worked in her flowers or Dad watched the race ...

Now, all of the sudden it seems, I'm an adult. Sunday mornings are not restful around our house (certainly not over the last few weeks) as we get two children and two adults ready for church. More often than not, the morning slips away from us and we're rushed trying to make it to Sunday School. Dropping off the children on the preschool hall, getting them signed in, then heading upstairs for our adult class. Let me say of our Sunday School class: It's great. Amazing, even. I am happy to call each member friend, and happier still to know that (for the most part) our children will grow up together. We're a large class of married couples, most of us have children, most of the children fall into the birth to about 12 years old. We have a wide range of ages (from young newly weds to 40-ish). And lessons that are relevant to family, marriage and theology. In fact, Doug taught a lesson today on being in God's will that has had me thinking since leaving the room. I may add more on the lesson later, depends ... Anyway!

I am not the cook my Mom is - it's a dream, a likely unattainable dream - so we usually eat out on Sunday afternoons (Mom has long since given up on cooking the Sunday feast of my childhood). So by the time we've gotten up, showered, dressed ourselves, dressed our children, made it out the door, been to church, picked up DJ form Sunday School or Children's Church, picked El up from the nursery, reloaded everyone into the car, stood in line for lunch at Wade's, been served, eaten, loaded up the leftovers, driven home ... it's been a full, full day. And since tomorrow is Monday, I feel like the million things that need doing must be done today, and so, not a day of rest.

So, it's Sunday afternoon. And there's not much resting going on ...