Sunday Afternoon

I think there are few things as frustrating to me as a Sunday afternoon.

On Sunday mornings, I am overwhelmed with emotion. I am inspired and clear-minded, full of ideas to write about and specific prayer and praise themes to address in my personal time with God. I squirm in my seat during church not because I want it to end, but because I have so much going on in my mind and in my heart that I cannot possibly sit still. In those moments, I am not as much Scott’s wife and Leah’s mom and Linda’s daughter (and on and on) as I am simply a daughter of God. The Father speaks to me, and I long to speak back.

And then it does end. The benediction is spoken, the band plays its “outro” music, we are wished a blessed week…and life comes back. Suddenly, my role as a child of God is replaced by my role in life on this planet, and it all rushes back in. The inspiration lingers, though faint, and I maintain hope that I’ll be able to get my ideas expressed – in prayer or on paper – before they disappear completely.

But then we have lunch.

And I have a meeting.

And the drive home.

And things at home need to be done before Monday…and before long, I realize that it’s gone. The clarity of thoughts in my mind fade as quickly as the sacred music that filled the worship space. The beauty is replaced by clutter, and again Scott’s wife and Leah’s mom wait for Sunday morning and the clarity and sanctity of time as God’s child.

That is why I fast: to bring a little of Sunday morning into my every day. I have to believe that it is possible.