This past Sunday was an exceptionally beautiful one, the first sun we had seen after 3 or 4 days of almost non-stop gray and rain. The girls had it in their minds to find a worm. They had been talking about finding a worm since about the second day of rain, when they could see it would probably be good conditions for such a pet. They had cut leftover felt into little worms and placed them in a jar on the third day of the rain in anticipation of the real thing. So by Sunday, they were bound and determined to find one, the one they had already named Squirmy. Squirmy the Worm.
Keith, Luke and I sat on the back deck. Keith smoked his pipe and I knitted a bit. Some nice chatting and whatnot.
This is proving to be a hectic week, more so than the norm, and so I am thankful that we chose to rest this past Sunday afternoon. Both Keith and I have long to-do lists filled with even more to-do lists, and we almost succombed to the lure of getting things done. Pushing through, turning on a movie for the girls to watch so we could get busy checking off those lists. But Sundays are reserved for our rest, part of the rhythm of our week. So usually whenever Keith gets home from church, the kids and I are already home, lunch is made, sometimes eaten, and we begin our afternoons of rest. I try not to do much if any laundry or house tasks and Keith puts his studies and work things away. He reads fiction, I read non-fiction – this being the one day to read something we usually don’t, something good for our souls.
Sundays give us rest from the previous days work and recharge us for the work of the week ahead.