sunday

Every Sunday Drew, Jordan and I wake up at 7:30 am to get ready for church. It's a bit of an ordeal as we get dressed and then bundled up for the winter weather. We try to be out the door by 8:30 am, and then we begin our walk to church on 13 Finchley, a total of three blocks from our home. It's something I look forward to every week. Even with the snow and the cold, Sunday mornings are a delight. Actually the morning air is refreshing, and Jordan's stroller is a Mountain Buggy (the SUVs of strollers) so we have no trouble pushing through the snow. These morning walks help to bring the day into perspective.

here's Drew and Jordan in their winter gear

When I was a child I used to dread Sunday mornings, they were always filled with much chaos as my mom yelled at us to get our clothes on; Noah and I would inevitably begin to argue about something non-essential, and then my dad would bellow for us to get in the car. In the car, Noah and I would still be fighting, my mom would be shouting over our voices to try to get us to stop, and my dad frustrated by all the noise would be yelling over my mother's voice. Then we would be parked in the parking lot of our church listening to a last minute lecture from mom telling us that we should apologize to God and each other, and as soon as the door opened, we would put on our Sunday faces and enter the church. It was jarring and abrupt. My heart still fuming I would take my seat in the sanctuary and be annoyed all day.

My Sundays now are quite the opposite. Gone are the days of having a "Sunday face." It's nice to have the time to breathe before the hustle and bustle of Sunday service and worship. To be still and know that He is God. To be thankful for the week's end and a new week's beginning. To recognize that His mercies are new every morning. To go to church with joy and not a sense of duty. Some days Drew and I will walk to church without saying a single word to one another. The quiet tranquility of these mornings remind me of a poem by Robert Browning:

"Pippa's Song"

THE YEAR’S at the spring,
And day’s at the morn;
Morning’s at seven;
The hill-side’s dew-pearl’d;
The lark’s on the wing;
The snail’s on the thorn;
God’s in His heaven—
All’s right with the world!

This past Sunday we woke up more fatigued than usual. We left the house a little later than normal, but any aggravation dissipated when we were greeted by the sun as we walked out the door. We sauntered to church and were glad for the morning coffee and bagel (provided by Emile) at our pre-service fellowship. After service Drew had baptism class to teach, Jordan and I hung out, and then we had lunch in Fisher Hall. We then followed some members to Mont Royal for sledding. Later we went to Tim and Laiping's place for hot chocolate. It was an activity-filled Sunday that began with the perfect morning.

Jordan playing in the nursery

Here we are on Mont Royal enjoying our day