Since I left my parent’s home, Sundays have never been the same. We attended church as a family, and nearly every Sunday, we went “visiting” one of our relatives, usually my grandparents or aunts and uncles.
After I got married, Sundays changed. Glen and I lived in San Diego where we knew no one. Glen didn’t go to church with me, and we had no extra money for movies or gas for a nice drive. We were grounded to our three-room apartment most of the time. Every-other weekend from Friday morning until Monday evening, Glen had duty on the ship. I had a telephone but no one to call. Glen had the car on base, so I couldn’t go to church, missing my “spiritual fix” for the week.
I eventually adjusted to Sundays with Glen–church, a light lunch, watching golf or football, and a nice dinner later in the afternoon. The other day I told my daughter how I dreaded the thought of spending Sundays alone when I return to Arizona–especially going to church alone. She said, “Mom you have to create a new image of Sunday–something to make it a happy day.” I could find a volunteer position which would allow someone else to enjoy Sundays with their family or look for a lonely soul to share Sundays with me.
Lord, help me enjoy Sundays by exploring new plans for the day. Amen.