Oh, Sunday, Thou Day of Rest

I really wonder what God meant when he said, “Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy.”  I mean, it wasn’t a suggestion out of the praises of David, “Psalms 174:23: I praise you Lord for you created Sundays which are my holy day and also my nap day.”  Nope, it is right there in the 10 Commandments.  #4 even – not lowly #10, not part of the amendments, smack dab in the middle of the list.


  1. consecrated: dedicated or set apart for religious purposes
  2. saintly: devoted to the service of God, a god, or a goddess
  3. sacred: relating to, belonging to, or coming from a divine being or power

(I like how #2 lists God with a capital, and then “a god…” because we all know there is One God and then we fight our tendencies to have many other gods.  Enjoy how that is pointed out here.)

Trying to get back in the swing of how to run this fine oiled machine means Sunday brings a day of weekly prep work.  Is a spending spree at Costco holy?  Is prepping and freezing meals for the upcoming weeks holy?  Is surfing Pinterest for new recipes and then getting sidetracked on Facebook holy?  None of these things are for religious purposes.  But I do have to feed my family and M-F don’t always have time in them to make a meal.

So what does this command mean in 2013?  I don’t even know.

The one thing we hold tight to on Sunday is that we go to church.  If we are home, it is a priority.  My kids still ask Saturday night, “are we going to church tomorrow?”  As if it is an optional thing.  Of course we are going.  We set apart two hours every Sunday and dedicate them to religious purposes.  How is that for following the commandment? 

Yesterday, I even went all Old School and wore a dress to church.  I must look like a total pig every other Sunday because I had more people comment on the fact that I was wearing a dress.  We don’t even go to a church that cares at all what I am wearing (within reason, of course – bikini top, no – swimsuit under a dress, yes I have done that – a smart girl is always prepared for an afternoon of boating.)  So when people noted my dress, I was pretty impressed with myself for making the effort.   My grandpa, who never let go of the “good ole years” when women didn’t wear anything but dresses, would have been so proud of me. 

Pride comes before a fall.  I was holding my sweet baby Alice (who I steal from mom and dad as often as I can) during worship.  We have a sweet connection, she and I.  I cant even explain it, but it is a God thing.  I hold her and pray over her and sing worship songs while she listens and isn’t old enough to understand I am not a good singer, or maybe she is but she doesn’t talk yet so she can’t tell me to pipe down, or that I am ruining her worship experience.   When we all sat down for announcements, I happily plunked her down on my lap – me in my dress, her in her dress.  (I called her up and told her to wear her pink and white striped dress so we could be all matchy matchy buddies.) And then she peed on me.  Yep.  Right there on my leg.  Peed.  On my dress.  Flooded the diaper and peed on me.  This is why I don’t dress up for church.  Why bother. 

But I continued to wear that dress for our Costco run because it was hot and the pee dried quickly.  And it is just baby pee, not like old person pee, which would require a change of clothing.  I wore that pee dress home like a boss, and then ran a load of laundry.  Is laundry ok on a Sunday?  Is laundry holy?  I didn’t iron it, so I did draw the line somewhere.  I drew it at “jobs I detest thus are not holy.”

I just don’t know if God intended us to take Sunday off from household work.  If he did, I really have to add more hours to the other days of the week, or I am in big trouble.   So what am I getting at today?  What is my point? I have no idea.


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