A Sunday peace


The New River, Giles County, Virginia

I will listen to what God the Lord says;
he promises peace to his people, his faithful servants—
but let them not turn to folly.

Psalm 85:8

It’s Sunday, the traditional day of rest, and usually a good time to stop and listen.

Normally I’d be heading off to church this morning, but it’s Strike Day at CAT Theatre and it’s time to say goodbye to Baker Street.

I’m not quite ready to do so. More on that tomorrow.

I miss the Sundays of my youth and even early adult years when the days really were days of rest. We’d go to church, come home to lunch (granted, not likely a day of rest for my Mom), then often there would be a Sunday nap before returning to evening services.

There was no catching up on work. No rehearsals. No yard work. No meetings.

It seems these days that my ox is perpetually in the ditch.

Look up the reference. It will do you good.

I don’t get as much quiet time as I used to. That’s just the way life is.

So sometimes, even in the midst of the noise I turn to the old hymns of the faith. I appreciate most, certainly not all, contemporary worship music. But these songs from the hymnal tug at my heart.

Perhaps because it was a simpler. Perhaps because these were the soundtrack for the years in which I was trying to articulate what I believe.

Or perhaps, just because I’m old.

Enough of that. Just listen.



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