Just Too Busy

Ever had one of those days? When you take your car in to get new tires and it takes almost 3 hours because they're so busy. When vespers is at 7 and you've just put Sabbath's lunch on to cook at 6:40 pm. When you are rushing about, trying to iron something, wash your hair, do dishes and tidy, all in about 15 minutes. Knowing it is unrealistic, you have to content yourself by covering the week's pile of discarded clothes and miscellaneous items with a throw or two, stacking the dishes neatly and turning the light off in the kitchen so you don't see them, and hurriedly ironing a pair of dress slacks for church. You think to yourself, "next week, I promise I will do better," knowing full well that next week you will find yourself, once again, trying to do too much in too little time.

I remember being a young child on Friday afternoons. We would clean on Thursdays so we wouldn't be as rushed on Friday, and when the sun set, we would sit, clean and ready for worship as our mother would read Uncle Arthur's The Bible Story. Friday evening was a special sacred time as we looked forward to Sabbath and going to church, participating in the service, and seeing all our friends. Sabbath was one of my favourite days of the week (Thursday night socials was my other favourite day!) and I looked forward to its arrival each week.

Those were good days. But things have changed now. The anticipation of Sabbath has been replaced with a sigh of relief that I have an entire afternoon to catch up on much-needed sleep. Spending time with friends and those lazy hours of sitting about and just talking or singing along with a guitar is a thing of the past. Why is it different? Is it because we grew up? Somehow I don't think so, because I know that anticipation is still inside me, somewhere. Maybe I'm not involved enough? I don't think that's the answer either, because there was a time I was quite active, but it never felt the same.

I think somehow I will always be searching, waiting. Maybe one day I will find a church that truly is home, or maybe not. . .