As a youth I never gave much thought about Sundays.
As a child growing up in the fifties, yes I am that old, Sundays seemed kind of boring. Everything was closed, unlike today. Of course there was church. But then there was that fuss of getting dressed in our Sunday’s best. Sunday school had some fun moments now and then. There was always some kid that would get the others to laugh and giggle at the most inappropriate times. Then it would be home for Sunday supper.
Later Sundays meant doing the homework I didn’t do Friday or Saturday. Usually the actual doing of homework was delayed until Sunday evenings after dinner making getting up Monday mornings all the harder, unless it was summer.
When college came around Sundays became an extension of Saturday. The days sort of blended together except they didn’t serve dinner at the dorm on Sundays, so you were out on your own. This was problematic in my first three years there, because I had no car. So it was find someone who did, or walk. The only restaurant that was open within walking distance was Pizza King which got boring Sunday ritual, but at least there were people. The rest of town rolled up its sidewalks. Fellow students would disappear and start hitting the books. Sundays could be a lonely proposition.
In my first marriage, Sundays seem to loose all meaning. It was another Saturday that butted up next to Monday. My first husband was not a religious man. He felt that if he went back to church, which had to be a Catholic church, it would fall in on him. Needless to say church for him was out of the question.
Going to church by myself seemed to be a lonely proposition. Besides by then, as a working woman, I was always busy catching up on laundry, especially when my son came into the world. By the time he was in his teens laundry was a serious business. Sundays had become another work day.
Sunday was lost unto me. What I didn’t realize was in losing Sunday, I was losing me.
In my late forties, things started to change. I was very unhappy. My marriage had died. My career starting to become punishing. I was putting in all kind of hours and pleasing no one.
I started to look to God. Pain can do that. I always felt there was a god, but I put him on a bookshelf. Kind of like a fire extinguisher or a smoke alarm. Something you forget overtime, till there is a fire.
It was slow at first. After all, I was going in the opposite direction and the fire extinguisher seemed to be a continent away. I started to pray. A forgotten art.
I started to read scriptures a bit. That was hard. When I opened scriptures it would take me back to English class my sophomore year in high school. We read Shakespeare for the first time. It read as English, sounded like a familiar language, but I was clueless as to what it meant.
But, as I found on my spiritual quest, when you seek you will find. Not on my own time table, but this quest set things in motion sight unseen. One thing for sure things started to change. Change can be a bit scary, especially when headed in the opposite direction.
I was use to being spiritually blind and deaf. I was not use to looking at the blessings in my life. I was too busy to be still and listen to any spiritual promptings. I was too busy looking at the negatives and recording them in a mental ledger.
Blessings at first we’re hard for me to see. I had taken them for granted for so long that they had disappeared from view. It was like I needed spiritual glasses. My spiritual body was out of shape. So it was a slow process recovery.
Today Sundays are my favorite day.
It was a great joy to discover that God gave Sundays to us for a present. I kind missed that my first fifty years on this planet. I had put God on the bookshelf in search of the things that distract us in this world. But then I reached for Him and I was found.
I also discovered that God gave this special day not just to us but to Himself as well. That we are to remember Him on this day so we can remember the blessings that he gave us.
What a glorious day. Think about it!
A day to rest!
Oh, who does not want a day of rest in this crazy world! Not to work! To turn off the empty demands of the corporate world. Not to do chores! Not to shop! I never thought I would seek relief from shopping, but I am there! Not to clog ourselves up with useless stuff that drains our very beings.
But most of all, a day to refuel and feed the spirit. A day to receive and give love. A day to reconnect to what is really important. For me it is to reconnect to my Creator, by Father, my Brother and Savior, Jesus Christ, and to the promptings of the Holy Spirit who never tires to bring us messages from home. I day to say I love you. This is my food, my fuel when my batteries run low.
All considering, Sunday is the best day. A day that has dibs over Friday; another day we thank God for.