Sunday Afternoon

When I was growing up, Sunday afternoon was almost as sacred as Sunday morning. You may as well not ask to go anywhere or do anything in those hours after Sunday dinner and before night service. Worldly activities such as shopping or participating in any other non church sponsored function was strictly prohibited. My dad was usually snoozing in front of the TV while the screen blared a football game to no one in particular. My mom, never a napper, took all afternoon to read the paper. She had a strange fascination with the classifieds and love to read each one. Occasionally she would make comments as she read like "Huh, a 1975 Buick for sale for $3,000", as if any of us where in the market or even cared. My sisters and I started off the afternoon by doing dishes. We were pastors kids, which meant without a doubt there was fried chicken on the menu and this called for seemingly tons of dishes. An hour or two later, with the fridge crammed with leftovers that would be devoured after night service, and the counters sparkling, we would make a dash to the fight over the comics. We would spend the lazy afternoon reading the antics of Dagwood and Blondie. We either slept the afternoon away, with our bellies full or turned out attention to the library book that would know doubt carry us the a faraway land of make believe. Not a care in the world. Sabbath, a day for rest and refilling.

I try to keep that habit now in my own house. Sunday afternoons are for reading or napping. A fantastic meal after worship service is always followed by a nap and then lazy piddling around the house. No life altering decisions will be made this afternoon. Only rest and refilling. It's Sabbath day.