When I was growing up, we had a pretty regular schedule each Sunday. We'd head to Sunday school followed by a service at our traditional Methodist church. After throwing on some comfy clothes, our family would have dinner (usually a roast that smelled oh-so-good!). The afternoons were lazy -- filled with homework, naps, and football. Of course, we always made it up to open gym by late afternoon. While the routine would vary each week, one thing always stayed the same -- the tempo of the day. Sundays were always a little bit slower, and I preferred it that way. Monday morning was looming in our minds, but it didn't take away from the joy of the sun peaking through the front room window as we lounged around together as a family.
As we grow up and change, our routines do the same. When I left for college, the slowness of Sunday followed me; however, this pace wasn't quite as comforting. I still attended church and threw on sweats as I studied in my dorm room. It was always so quiet -- college kids napping and, let's face it, hungover. With all the stillness came time to think -- too much time to think. I always found Sundays to be a little depressing in college. Maybe it was the feeling of being homesick. Maybe it was the lack of "normalcy." Whatever it was, I was often sad on Sundays.
Now that I am little bit more settled in life, I've created yet another Sunday routine. To be honest, I love it. Since I've never learned to sleep in, I'm usually up before the world. I workout and then sit and enjoy coffee as I write. After church, I sit at a coffee house listening to music with lesson plans, a book, or my computer. It's a time to center myself before beginning another week. I wouldn't trade this time for anything.
I know this routine will change once again as I continue to grow. But what I love most about Sundays is the stillness and slowness, and that will never change.
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