The New Sunday

13 Jan

I used to have a strong stance against cooking on Sundays.  We’d put in a full morning at church with music rehearsal and singing on the praise team for me, while Steven would have an elders meeting, followed by youth, then the service.   After church, we’d head out to eat at whatever restaurant was chosen that week by friends or our youth group.  Then back at church in the evening for youth.  Of course, once Alex came along, I stayed home from church on Sunday nights, but it was still a crazy sort of day for all of us.

I miss it.  Or at least, parts of it.  Truly, I don’t miss having quite so much responsibility.  My husband was the youth minister, in addition to having a full-time job.  It was a too-busy life.  But I desperately miss Sunday mornings back in Texas.

Things are so different for us here, although I freely admit that different isn’t bad.  It’s just different.  We go to church, and we know only a handful of people, none of them terribly well.  We have no responsibilities.  At all.  At first that was nice; we needed the break.  But 9 months later, we’re both ready to get back into ministry.

I hate being a nobody.

The biggest change, though, is going to an early service, then just coming home.  We opted for the early service at this point in our lives because it allows us to get home in time for Alex to nap.  I’m a big believer in keeping to the nap schedule, and my well-behaved baby is a testament to the wisdom of that.  But this means that we never, and I mean never, go out to lunch after church anymore.  In fact, all the boys in my household, and by that I mean my husband, son, and our 2 cats, typically fall asleep as soon as we return from church.  (The cats, naturally, do not attend church, although I think watching the birds at my feeder is a near-religious experience for our Ninja Cat.)

While everyone sleeps, I often find myself cooking.  I never thought I’d find myself in that place, but everyone expects to eat, and I’m the bringer of food.  Granted, I could totally serve up peanut butter and jelly, and no one would care.  But I’m finding something peaceful, a little contemplative, and joyful about cooking for my family on Sundays.  I cook all week long, and yet, preparing a Sunday lunch has a different feel to it.  Because even though cooking is sometimes a chore, there truly is a certain beauty in quietly puttering about the kitchen while everyone sleeps.  I think the difference is in knowing that I want to be there doing that in that moment.

This is the new Sunday.

Blueberry muffins

Blueberry muffins

Sunday lunch of scrambled eggs with ham, spinach, red onion, and mushrooms

Sunday lunch of scrambled eggs with ham, spinach, red onion, and mushrooms


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