I don’t know if I like it better than Thursday, I still can’t quite decide. But over the years it’s become the one day I look forward to because I know it’ll be different in distinct ways from the rest of the week and that it will rejuvenate me and our family more than anything else we do.
You know how sometimes the weekends are so full of fun, whether you’re camping or traveling to another state with a kid’s special team or you’ve been working on house projects, that come Monday you almost look forward to getting back to work so you can get back in the groove and life can settle down. I love weekend activities, and we look forward to having friends over, going to the mountains, taking road trips, and of course working in the yard. But come Sunday, we switch gears and life takes a turn for a day.
I don’t know that I always liked or appreciated Sundays as I was growing up with my parents and sisters. And yet, it was a different sort of day even back then. But it wasn’t until college that I truly began looking forward to my day of rest. Maybe I’d never needed it as much before that point. And now, as a parent, I embrace Sunday and appreciate the departure from normal life like I never have before.
Growing up of course we’d dress in our Sunday Best and go to church, like a lot of you. I loved being able to sit next to my mom on those hard, dark wood pews. She worked full-time; so we didn’t spend a lot of time with her one on one and this was an opportunity we all looked forward to. My dad would hold my little girl hand in his big rough calloused work hands and massage my fingers and tickle my arm. I relished our slow afternoons together as a family. We’d have friends over for dinner (a college-aged cousin attending SDSU, a teacher from day care, our extended family for a holiday or birthday celebration, our friends from church or school) and it was the one day my mom had time to cook. We always made The Jello before church, usually my job; this was the 70s and 80s after all, Jello was a staple. I’d make The Blueberry Muffins (again, a given; the kind with the can of blueberries in the box and crumble top packet) after church, and my mom would make the rest: roast and mashed potatoes (with loads of butter), maybe Chicken Cordon Blue, Mexican Chicken, all sorts of deliciousness. We all savored our Sunday afternoon dinners and lingered just a little longer. Maybe while the roast was still cooking we would go lie in the sun on the little alcove at the back of our apartment building and bring our spray bottles, or we’d play school or office on the ironing board while mom and dad took a nap. I’d go on walks with my best friend around Lake Murray. Our evenings were naturally centered around The Wonderful World of Disney and we’d have ice cream. Just a relaxing end to a busy week, centering and rejuvenating us for the days ahead. We had no idea we were doing anything special, we were just enjoying our Sundays.
In college we of course went to church but then we immediately went to the cafeteria for our big dinner, all dressed up, with our friends. So fun to not have to cook, to just enjoy a free day together, no studying or stressing about classes or assignments. (We’d sometimes get up pretty early Monday morning to study, but it was so nice to have a day off.) Back then it was the cheapest day to call long-distance, so everyone would check in with their families in the evening. We visited each other in our dorm rooms, we had choir practice and large devotionals and group prayers in the evenings, but it was all very uplifting, peaceful, restful, and recharging. It was a glorious day off from the tension of the week, and I looked forward to it like I never had before.
It was at this point in my life that I started appreciating the beauty and gift of the Sabbath. I know we don’t talk about it in our culture much anymore, and it’s become an extension of Saturday, The Weekend. But as one of the Ten Commandments, it’s a principle with a promise,* which means that anything we do to make it different and a little more “holy,” will benefit us and our families. The one promise that stands out is that it will help us be “unspotted from the world,” which, if you have children, you can appreciate. More than anything, we want our kids to focus on what’s really important and to not get caught up in what the world touts and tries to convince them is real. This is a protection, a day to get back to basics, a time to be with our families and to focus on God.
For many people in our situation, Sundays are filled with church responsibilities, and I don’t know that it’s exactly restful. But I think it still helps us re-focus on the big picture and reminds us of what’s most important. As we got older, we’ve both had more time-demands relating to church, but we’ve almost always been able to squeeze in a nice family dinner and a walk.
Back when we were first married, Todd had bishopric/leadership meetings; and I helped serve the ladies in our area in the same capacity as I do now. So church was a big part of our day, but we also had long lazy mornings to walk along the neighborhoods and into the Provo Canyon. We had friends over or went to friends’ houses nearly ever single Sunday for dinner. We never studied, even though he was trying to apply to vet school and I was in grad school. Occasionally he’d have to check on the animals at the clinic, but for the most part, it was just a gloriously simple day off from all the pressures of school and work.
Life carried on much the same once we were in Illinois and he was in vet school. We’d get together with other families all the time and take long walks with the boys in strollers. We’d find lakes or parks to walk around, we’d visit each other, we’d call home, we’d play games, we’d just relax and gear up for the week ahead.
When our kids were younger, life on Sunday was hairy. And of course this is when Todd was gone more than any other time in our life. Church made me cry. Getting ready for church was a fiasco. Sitting in church, I could barely contain myself. The kids were wiggly and would touch and poke and fight and fidget. Todd was on the stand or at work, and I’d have to hold things together week after week. It wasn’t pretty, and I don’t know that I exemplified anything praiseworthy or of good report; I only knew I wanted to set a standard for our family. I knew this was where we needed to be and it was my best chance to touch bases with God and to show the kids this is what we believed. And so I was blessed with angel helpers and eventually the kids got older and things settled down.
Waaaayyyyy down. Any of you with teenaged boys know what I’m talking about. Hands bracing their heads, leaning on the pew in front of them, in praying position. I don’t know that my boys have heard much of anything in church in all the years they’ve attended with us. Sigh. But, for the same reasons as I took them as babies, we continue to go. And hopefully it will eventually cause them to question, to ask if they believe it too.
We have four congregations that meet in each of our in-town buildings, so the times are staggered. Last year we went 2:30-5:30 (when we were first married we met 3-6 with Todd’s meetings starting at 1), and this year we’re 8:30-11:30. We’ve loved all the time slots we’ve been assigned to. You just look for what’s good about the one you’ve got and make the most of it. We might be one of the only families we know who was ok with going at 2:30. With teens, this is a dreamy time to go to church. They slept in till 10, we had big omelet/hashbrown/bacon breakfasts, long walks in the parks, board games, and plenty of time to make dinner before we left. We had friends over for waffles. We did scouts and planned lessons and wrote letters and talked. It was sometimes dark when we’d get home, so we’d just eat and go to bed not long after. But in the summer we still had long evenings together to go on a walk or have friends over.
This year we’ve been going at 8:30, and it’s been rough!! But we’ve come to appreciate the good things about being done with church early. Plenty of time to do visits, to talk to our families, to write to Andrew, to make a nice dinner, to have people over, to go on long walks, and of course long evenings to play games and linger on the patio.
The boys have used their Sundays to take naps; and some have chosen to study and get their schoolwork done, others save it for the other days of the week. Andrew would gravitate to his garage to work on his knives; Avery likes to paint. There’s not a list of what we can and can’t do on the Sabbath, which I'm so grateful for. Every family we know does things a little differently, which is just fine. Although we have come up with some guidelines that have worked for our family, we honestly do want them to choose what they find fitting to do on Sunday. And yet, as parents, our job is to teach what we believe God wants the Sabbath to look like. So, we do our best to have traditions that bring us together on Sundays so that they’ll want to be with the family. It’s the one day of the week we have ice cream (sundaes on Sundays) and we make it a point to set the table a little more formally (with goblets and our nice plates, etc) and to have a little nicer dinner. Todd almost always takes over on Sundays (which even if you’re not the least bit religious, I highly recommend instituting in your homes. You’ll have to find your own Todd though; ours is busy) and enlists the help of the kids. Andrew would make his famous Red Lobster biscuits, and the girls or Callum sometimes make a dessert to go with our ice cream. Sometimes Mitchell would get in there and make his garlic dipping sauce or some other specialty item. Just a fun day to work in the kitchen together (while I take a nap). Like we’ve done forever, we play games and go for a walk. We try not to do sports or ride bikes, but we decided a long time ago that sometimes a jump on the tramp for a few minutes is just what the kids need in order to keep the Sabbath day from becoming unholy. We don’t watch a lot of tv, but we’re totally ok with nature shows or something inspiring, a family movie. Once in awhile something comes up that departs from what we’d normally do on a Sunday, helping a neighbor, having to work, sometimes we’ve traveled and eaten out, but mostly we try to stick to pretty low-key activities. We try not to work or make others work (which is why we don't shop or eat out). We want it to be a together kind of day instead of everyone off in their rooms doing their own thing. We want to make connections on this day—with God and with each other and with the people around us, which is why we visit people and have people over. It’s not picture-perfect, but we love it.
I guess my point in even writing this is to encourage you and your families to do something that will enhance your own Sunday. I know we all have different faiths (or none at all), and yet I believe by adopting a different kind of Sunday, your lives will be enriched, regardless of what your religious affiliation is.
Start small. Some of my friends turn their phones off on Sundays just to have a break. I love that idea! Maybe make a tradition of brunch with the whole family. Maybe decide to stay home and not shop just this one day. Maybe have sundaes and watch a family movie together. Maybe invite an older neighbor couple to have dinner with you, someone you always wanted to but can’t squeeze in during the week. If you live alone, maybe make it a family day by writing letters to far away family members or researching your family tree. Work on developing your talents; find a new one! Maybe break out a board game and make popcorn and laugh together. Maybe see if you can get homework done on Saturday so it’s not hanging over your heads on Sunday night. Maybe put on some peaceful music to distinguish that this is a calm and different sort of day (we love Windham Hill, Paul Cardell, The Piano Guys, classical). It’s up to you, and maybe this hasn’t changed your mind at all. Maybe it’s just to help you see where we’re coming from, why we choose to say no to some requests like birthday parties or football games, why we seem kind of holed up as a family, and why you’ll see us marching through the neighborhood like we’re leading a parade most Sunday evenings. All I know is that we cherish this day that’s set apart from all the others. Nothing else we do seems to have created the close connections that our Sundays have, and I’m so grateful for this special day that allows us to focus on what matters most.
*9 And that thou mayest more fully keep thyself unspotted from the world, thou shalt go to the house of prayer and offer up thy sacraments upon my holy day;
10 For verily this is a day appointed unto you to rest from your labors, and to pay thy devotions unto the Most High (Doctrine and Covenants 59:9-10)
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