I love Sundays.
I used to dread getting up on Sundays. I used to whine and gripe about having to wake up early, having to get Elijah ready and get him out of the house at nap time, having to "lose" a day to sleep in. We were lucky to get to the 10:30 service on time. The 9:00 service or class? Yeah, right.
I'm not exactly sure what changed. One day early this Fall I asked Michael if we could start going to a class, which necessitated going to early service. Suddenly, I'm working the nursery for early service once a month, our kids are adjusted well to being in the nursery and class for 2.5 hours, and I'm loving it. We're up at 6:30 anyway, so we might as well be doing something productive.
We're meeting tons more people, we feel involved and invested in the church community, and everything is just lovely. And then we come home, have a quick lunch, and all four of us get naps to recharge and refresh us for the coming week. On two Sundays a month we host or go to Life Group, which is a great group of families that I know God deliberately placed in my life.
Sundays are just lovely.
Today Michael is making chili (he invited some neighbors over for dinner without consulting me, which I'm trying really hard to have a good attitude about), the boys are playing happily, and I'm lounging in my comfy clothes while the sun starts going down.
It's a good day.