Sunday mornings contain more hope and magic than any other moment of the week. Whether you are in church singing off tune to the hymns you’ve know for years or roaming the latest headlines with your favorite mug in hand or sipping orange juice out of crystal glasses at some over-priced brunch, there is this sense that whatever problems ailed you last week or await you this week really don’t matter. You have now and that’s all you absolutely need.
This Sunday morning I woke up yearning for Africa. My dreams led me to a dusty road with vendors and boys playing soccer. There were the familiar faces who defined my time there, pretending that our time was not over. I struggled awake only to realize that my alarm did not go off and I had less than 10 minutes to brush my teeth, put on clothes and make my hair somewhat presentable for church. A youth leader in high school once told me that her favorite service is the early one because it’s mostly elderly people and there is a quietness that can’t be found at the later services, so I decided to go to the 8 a.m. mass alone. I needed the spiritual calm, and it was exactly that. At the end of the homily, the priest said, “Wherever your pain and doubt is, lead God there.” OK.
Then I came home to eat a hearty breakfast and sip warm beverages as meals should be slowed down and thoroughly enjoyed on Sundays. I had planned to run but the howling winds will force me to the treadmill so I’ll put it off for a different hour. Instead, I scan blogs and newspapers, listening to new bands a friend suggested, and soaking up the hope.
Whatever you are doing and wherever you are, savor the moment. Let it to fill you for the week ahead and remind of you of the good fortune you posses. That’s what Sunday morning is for, allow it to give you that.
P.S. That mug was a gift from Kate. As a good friend and a good writer, she knew that this new part of my life needs a good mug. She is wonderful and I may or may not have been looking at bus tickets to Kansas City this past week.