2025 Sunday — A Good Day

Fifty years ago we were stepping into church for the first time in our almost ten years of marriage. We had met the pastor of the church that we wanted to use for our 10th Anniversary Vow Renewal Wedding. He suggested that we come on a Sunday morning just to get a "feel" for the building so it would not feel so foreign on the evening of our ceremony. He knew that being there on a Sunday morning would put us inside a room filled with love. It was a gigantic beginning to a radical change in our lives.
I never dreamed back then that all these years later I'd still be excited about stepping into church on Sunday morning. This morning the music was so good. Our pastor preached from Acts 7:54-8:3 the stoning of Stephen. We learned about the powerful impact that awful moment had on a young man named Saul, who eventually became the Apostle Paul. It was a poignant sermon with an illustration at the end that has me silently repeating "Stay focused on the Cross." I thoroughly enjoyed Sundays fifty years ago and I still do today. I was completely surprised this morning when our pastor asked me to read scripture. I thought doing that ended when Mr. Fun retired 11 years ago. Almost twenty years ago I wrote about Sunday, the first day of the week: Here's what I wrote and a few photos from today:

“A Month of Sundays”

If I had to choose any day of the seven to live again and again, certainly it would be Sunday. It is a day that begins with a full-bodied cup of coffee enjoyed at a slightly slower pace than other days and then opens to a wide horizon of meaningful moments. Without exception it includes gathering with eternity people (Eccl.3:11)--folks who love the Lord Jesus Christ. Sunday almost always includes fabulous fellowship, a congregational celebration, a delicious meal, moments spent in leisure at a place I love—home, and/or the opportunity to get out to some place that is rarely on my weekday agenda. So if I had the opportunity to have a month of any day, you can bet l'd choose Sunday.

Sunday mornings when I wake, my husband has been exploring with God for hours. Once I am fully awake, I love to listen as Mr. Fun describes the Sunday adventure he and God have embarked as they have been early together. The two of them travel back roads that I don't think I'll ever get to see. There is nothing subtle about Mr. Fun’s enthusiasm for God. He is more at home in God's Word than in any other place he and I have ever been. Before I can catch my breath, our early morning moments evaporate and the Fun one is gone to meet the praise team musicians, the singers, and the prayer team. He can hardly wait to get to church. A month of those mornings would be "grand."

Once the garage door is closed and he has accelerated away, I am left lingering in the echo of his thoughts while I inspect the wardrobe possibilities in my closet. Make-up, hairdo, attire, all begin to consume the next forty-five to sixty minutes. Occasionally on Sundays I reacquaint myself with every garment I own--hauling half of all my clothing out of the closet before making a decision regarding what to wear—a luxury my weekdays cannot afford. If there is any day to see the world while dressed-up, for me that day would be a Sunday. Yes, I'd accept a month of Sundays.

When I exit my neighborhood on Sunday morning I am thankful that I am not hunting for a place to worship. Sunday always brings me to one of the places, the church, I call "home." I believe marriage, as well as a commitment to a local congregation, are for the long-haul. We were at our former church for 27 years; maybe it was in the first five years there intense character-building years--where I learned to be steadfast. We will soon cross an anniversary at another Corona church that was new to us five years ago. The people there who have honored us with the title "friend" are those who God is using to mold us. These are "forever" relationships; sometimes because of my schedule, I only see these people on Sundays. The exuberant praise celebration each Sunday morning nourishes my spirit as does the chorus of greetings, conversations, laughter, and the embrace of another human expressing heartfelt emotion. This is uniquely a Sunday experience. Yes, I'd welcome a month of Sundays.

When the morning concludes, I leave the fellowship of believers to enter an afternoon geography of discovery. Unlike other afternoons, it is free from a rigorous agenda and routine maps. Sometimes I find myself struggling with the tension of wanting to be a home-body "nesting" and the opposite urge to be a wanderer "seeing and doing." To borrow a thought from a favorite author, Scott Russell Sanders, “settling or moving — place or no place is the decision.” Both are fun and both can be rewarding. Both are usually options only on Sunday. I'd choose a month of those afternoons; wouldn't you?

I haven't forgotten Sunday food--yum! My childhood memories are filled with the culinary delights of Sundays. From early morning gooey pastry, to the middle day meal, and early evening dessert, Sunday food is comfort food. In winter when the house is closed tight, the air fills with the hearty aroma of beef roasting, ham baking, spaghetti or enchiladas warming. In summer with the windows open wide and the breeze tickling my skin, I breathe in the smoky scent of meat sizzling on the outdoor grill. My favorite, though, is dessert--hot baked pie in the chilly months and cold ice cream in the heat of summer. Sunday food captures everyone's attention. I would definitely vote for a month of those food-filled days.

So I'm on the hunt to find a calendar, one with a special month. If you find it, let me know. I'm looking for a calendar with a Month of Sundays.

Rosie (& Mr. Fun), aka Carol
and Chloe & Mitzi too!