Why are Sundays


Sundays are


they are not the start of something new, they are the end.

like the last day of a vacation, that you cannot enjoy because you know that it is the last day.

Sunday follows Saturday’s funeral. And replacing all the love, and comfort, and warmth, and memories from then, is today’s emptiness, that somehow feels even emptier.

Sunday is the day that we put on our best clothes, best face, and sit on hard seats feeling guilty. And small.

it always rains on Sunday

Sunday gets all up in your head because Monday is already there.

there isn’t even football to watch. Only car racing. Or bowling. Really?

Hobby Lobby is closed. And Chick-Fil-A. For the love of all that’s holy!

Sunday is a bitter pill to swallow

or is it a vitamin? maybe

six days of Hobby Lobby will suffice. And Chick-Fil-A? Honestly, that’s more than enough.

there will be football on Sundays again. Don’t watch bowling. Put on HGTV. Better yet, turn off the television and go outside. Right now.

bring an umbrella

and deal with Monday on Monday.

and dress comfortably, and sit comfortably, and realize that to be reminded of how small we are is to be reminded of the things much bigger than us, and that we need those things.

and know in your heart, that the people you lost, the people you miss, you will see again one Sunday.

and you can enjoy that day knowing there will be many more, and that

Sunday will never be just the first day of anything, the last day of anything, or the only day.

Sundays are