Easy Like Sunday Morning…

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Once crazy like ants in an angry mound…

Now quiet…easy…and soft around the edges…

Summer Sunday mornings exhale and pull me in…close.

The heady aroma of ‘plenty early’  in a cup of French Roast

with a generous amount of Cinnabon creamer envelops my mind fog.

Gentle clearing and focus ensue.

Summer Sunday comfortable holds sweet time for personal worship before corporate which makes the later so much more…

No longer  dragging  into worship service on my last nerve making an illusive  grocery list in my mind of the week ahead…I arrive expectant.

Truly worship has little to do with me and everything to do with the One who beckons me to follow…

 

I remember Sunday mornings of yesterday with mega-mounds of ironing  and the attempts at family big breakfasts.

And boys…wonderful, chaotic, handsome young boys…were dragging, dressing, and looking for a misplaced Bible or  some illusive article of their Sunday best attire…

Boy with socks, and boy without…

Part of me, the Mommy me, misses those crazy Sundays, but the 51 year old me smiles on the back porch with Bible in lap,

Bird concertos and coffee…

Oh yes…easy like Sunday morning…

 

 

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