Sunday

Sunday is probably my favorite day of the week. Although there is always a little bit of apprehension for Scotty and I about leading our church plant meetings in the morning, we are always joyful about what God does during that time. Scotty does a great job of searching through Systematic Theology to find guidance and wisdom in how to study the attributes of God (what we are going over with the team), and then translates those ideas into Spanish. We spend the morning singing, praying, and studying the Word together. Usually we will go out to lunch with friends, but decided today that we were going to have a picnic at the top of a nice look-out in the neighborhood. We went to our favorite coffee shop/restaurant, Alexander Coffee, ordered the nachos (big and greasy) for Scotty and a nice Asian salad (green and healthy) for me. We chatted on the way home about the different ways God is working in our team and in the community to prepare the way for His church, and reminded each other that God uses us for His good purposes despite our shortcomings and doubts. Upon arriving home, the sunny morning had quickly turned grey and cold, so we decided to picnic in the kitchen. We enjoyed lunch and the prospect of a long, relaxing afternoon. I recently finished a book by Lauren Winner called Mudhouse Sabbath where she describes and compares a handful of Jewish traditions to Christian ones. One of those was the Sabbath day, when Jews refrain from any type of work or anything that could possibly resemble work, to mediate on the Lord and truly rest in Him. I am challenged by this idea, knowing that Sundays are often days where I let myself be lazy, which is totally different from rest. How often do I really take the time to think about who God is, to spend time thanking Him for His goodness in my life, for life itself? Am I willing to sacrifice even time with friends to be alone with my Savior and seek to know Him more? Anyway, after lunch we snuggled into the bed for a time of reading while the wind picked up outside and the drops began to fall. I am slowly working through a Spanish novel and sometimes even convince myself that this pleasure reading could be called "homework". At one point I began to look around me at our bedroom: the fun, new bedspread we had made for our extra-long mattress; the woven trunk I bought a few years ago in Cochabamba; the huge, wood doors of our big closets; and my husband sitting next to me, content in his novel. I gave a prayer of thanks to God for providing such wonderful things for us, knowing that it is only through His grace that we have anything good, and relaxed in the knowledge that He gives perfect peace an rest through knowing Him. We'll take a walk around the neighborhood in a few minutes, exploring new homes being built and dreaming about the day we will build our own, saying "hola" to the neighbors, breathing in the fresh air after a good rain. Tonight we'll spend time with our great friends, John and Michelle (and little, sleeping Ethan), remembering again the gift of friendship that we've been given in this couple, and trying desperately to beat them in Cities and Knights of Catan. Sundays are good days.