Never has there been a day that remains unlike
any other in the whole world.
There is just something about Sunday morning.
Even when the sun fails to appear, the Son shows up.
Even when the children's laughter is hushed,
the strains of their hearts ring out loud and
clear through the open strands of life's frail gates.
Even when all the people gather and sit close and
yet far apart from one another's spirit, the Spirit
of spirits comes in and draws each of them closer
through His own Spirit.
Even when all of the noises from within and without
try to shut out the whispers of loving kindness from
above,the Whisperer appears and shuts all of those
noises up and out.
Even when the close of Sunday gives way to another
Monday, Sunday breathes enough breath to purify
every passing hour that fades into night with each
going down of the sun to bring forth a brand new
Sun Day.
Slipping into Sunday Morning is like
free falling into a great big vat of honey ~
It is so sweet and
It sticks far past Monday
On thru to the next Sunday morning.
And so . . .
When you slip into the pulpit chair and watch
for the Lord as the people slip into their pews,
prayerfully slip your hand up and let God slip His
own hand into yours.
I am slipping but not sliding. . .
Copyright (c) 2005. Rev. Lainie Dowell. The Mountainside Ministries. Columbia, MD. All rights reserved worldwide.Rec'd Sat., January 28, 2005, 6:30 p.m. EST
