Sundays growing up meant work, not rest. Every Sunday morning without fail we got up earlier, normally ate cinnamon rolls or cinnamon toast, and made it to church for Sunday school. I hated Sundays as a child because not only did I get up early but I had to wear “Sunday clothes.” Now this was before children’s church so I sat through Sunday school and then the morning message. Okay, so I didn’t sit, I normally slept lying on the pew – but those stained glass windows will forever be engraved in my mind. We normally went to lunch at service with my grandparents and then home for a short nap, because the Sunday night service started at six o’clock sharp. I liked the evening service better because I could wear jeans and play outside unless it was a revival and my mom felt I needed reviving.

I say all this because it wasn’t rest, it was busy. Today my family went to a casual service, afterward Tatum took at nap, and we played in the backyard. I made a homemade Slip n’ Slide in the backyard. And as I lied on my stomach on the wet plastic playing with my daughter I thought – This Is Rest! This is what Sundays were made for and I think I saw Jesus smiling when my daughter giggled.

Summer called it Slip n’ Slide Sunday – I liked to think of it as REST.