A Special Day

        Whether we are or not “church people”, most of us think of Sunday as a special day and try to plan for some way to enjoy the day, whether it’s a picnic in a park, a summer day boating on a lake, or football on TV. Two generations ago, Sunday after church the family went to visit each other or took scenic rides in the countryside, perhaps glorying in the beauty of God's world. And while on a weeknight you might enjoy a game of cards or dominoes, never would you allow yourself to be caught at those games on Sunday.


Even most of us churchgoers, at some point, may attend services partly to uphold family tradition or from habit or to avoid explaining to someone we care about why we weren’t there. And usually we feel a twinge of guilt when we fail to go and resolve on Sunday afternoon to be there next Sunday for sure, unless something comes up. Eventually for some of us, this becomes our habit and we feel less and less guilt. We may show up to worship on special Sundays, like Easter or at Thanksgiving or Christmas, failing to realize every Sunday should be special to us and should be kept Holy in whatever we do that day.


As recently as mid-20th century, there were many restrictions (called Blue Laws) on non- ` emergency sales or purchases in Texas, and some states and many other countries still have some varying degrees of restriction on activities or sales on Sunday for preservation of a day of rest and/or worship for workers and their families. Commonly the work week consisted of five and a half days or even six days a week during the 1950s, so Sundays were the unique, special day for most of us. Then came the five-day week and the 1990s began trending toward a ten hour, four-day work week. Perhaps this skewed our attitude toward Sunday as part of our “personal days”, to do what we wanted.

There’s nothing wrong with boating, picnicking, a late party Saturday night, or football, unless they replace church attendance as our first priority. How to adjust our perception of Sunday? Guilt is a reminder only until we become desensitized. I’ve been thinking about this attitude change I needed, and like everything else God says, He made the answer so simple, if I just look.

Remember how loving you felt at Christmas toward everybody? Remember how gratitude filled your heart at Thanksgiving? Remember how humbly and fervently worshipful you were on Easter Sunday? Every Sunday is an anniversary of the day Jesus rose after paying the terrible sin price for what we all too often think of as our minor sins. In recognition and gratitude, let’s promise to greet every Sunday morning and remembering just how much He loves us.

 Six days you shall labor...but the seventh day is a Sabbath of the Lord your God.

                                                                            Exodus 20: 9-10

Journey of a Traveler

Perhaps I had a dream. Sometimes dreams are vague and short; this one was not. I was cruising along on a wide concrete, multi-lane highway. Distant mountains came into view and diminished as I sped past. Roadway signs clearly marked my route; rest stops and restaurants, signs offering side trips to attractive tourist locations appeared frequently. A pleasant journey overall.

As time passed, the road narrowed to two lanes, then to one and eventually to an unpaved gravel, single lane. Highway signs, rest stops, roadside attractions were now less frequent, the scenery perhaps a little boring, but later I learned there would be thrills and chills further down the road. The bumpy road was uncomfortable at times, but the potholes! I feared for my tires. My vehicle picked up a few rattles as I bounced along this patch of road. I began to look forward to the next fuel stop and the opportunity to check my vehicle's condition and a few minutes to walk off the kinks in my neck and stretch a bit.

The road was poorly marked, but there were few intersections, so chances to become lost were not a problem; however, I began to notice a slight incline. The road stretching ahead was less traveled and gradually wound upward, and the area I was passing through seemed fairly deserted, even lonely. An occasional detour sign slowed me down, but undeterred, I persevered. Most of my fellow-travelers had exited the road but I continued onward, with very few others still on the road. My engine began to overheat as it labored to climb the hill. I had to stop occasionally, open the hood and wait for it to cool down before continuing.

Luckily, I would eventually come to a fuel station along the way, where a mechanic would spot any trouble and repair it and prevent a breakdown. A tune-up aided my car's handling of the elevation without serious problems. As the road wended its way higher, I could see a fork in the road some distance ahead. One appeared to join another wide, paved highway; the other seemed to climb higher still, a barely visible single lane, lonely and even more primitive than I had experienced so far.

I paused at the intersection and read the highway signs: one promised a large city just ahead, with all amenities and entertainment--the other sign announced excellent care for my vehicle, "Repairs, Restoration, Renewal" and "New Cars, Unbelievable Trade-ins".

I pondered this decision, wondering about the two roads ahead. I think of my body as the vehicle; the path toward my destiny offers only two choices. Looking back over my years. I remembered the broad highway when things were easier, more comfortable. I recognize the bumpy road my vehicle is now on and I'm still smarting from some of the potholes I've fallen into. How tempting is the smooth, wide open road? How encouraging is the road promising "repairs, restoration. renewal"?

No contest. The Great Mechanic manufactured this vehicle, my body, and I trust His promise and ability to prepare it (and my spirit) for infinity with Him. I can hardly wait to see His new models!

Our days may come to seventy years, or eighty, if our strength endures; yet the best of them are but trouble and sorrow, for they quickly pass, and we fly away.
Teach us to realize the brevity of life, so that we may grow in wisdom.

Psalm 90:10, 12

Your eyes have seen my unformed substance; And in Your book were all written The days that were ordained for me, When as yet there was not one of them.

Psalms 139:16

(I'm at 85 this month, but who's counting?)