A Slow Sunday

July 29, 2018

Quiet Sunday afternoons are a rarity around our house. A normal Sunday at the Bailey’s involves somewhere between 18 and 25 people around our dinner table(s), conversations that may last until 4:00, and often something going on in the evening; hardly a “day of rest.” In a conversation with our son Matt the other day, we talked about our family times together. He wondered whether as our kids, they were expecting too much of us with dinner every Sunday, having their kids overnight twice a month, going to endless soccer games, swim meets, and concerts. “There are times when it gets a bit overwhelming,” I admitted, “but we get to choose. A lot of grandparents don’t have that privilege.” Our days are full, our Sundays even more so, but that’s a good thing.

Today was different. Worship was on the beach in Cassadaga followed by a picnic. By the time I arrived from leading worship in Dunkirk and making a quick hospital visit, people were leaving and everything was being packed up. We were home by 2:30. Both sons were on their way to Kingdom Bound with their families, and our daughter and her family had gone home. We walked into a quiet house. It felt strange for a Sunday. 

We made coffee and sat on the patio talking before the rain drove us inside for an episode of Father Brown on tv, followed by impromptu naps. Linda loaded the dishwasher while I made cranberry scones. Granddaughter Abi texted, asking if she could come over for dinner after her lifeguarding shift was done, and could she bring Ashley with her? Of course she could. “When will you be here?” Linda texted back before walking into the living room. When her phone buzzed, I picked it up and read the text. 

“5 minutes.” From then till now (10:00 pm), it has been nonstop, with Abi and Ashley, followed by a visit from our friends Harry and Beth. But like I said, it’s been a slow Sunday. I’m a private guy, introvertive and quiet, but I’ve learned to grab my quiet times when I can, and to go with the flow when I cannot. I am blessed by the many people in our lives; people who build us up and encourage us in the give and take of ordinary conversations backed by years of love and mutual respect. It’s been a good slow day!