It was a stormy, gray Sunday and I contemplated staying in bed and reading Ivan Doig, but I was a good girl and got up and went to church. I was rewarded with great scripture readings and one of my favorite hymns. I mean, how great is Philippians 4:1-9:
Therefore, my brethren, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, stand firm thus in the Lord, my beloved.
2 I entreat Eu-o′dia and I entreat Syn′tyche to agree in the Lord. 3 And I ask you also, true yokefellow, help these women, for they have labored side by side with me in the gospel together with Clement and the rest of my fellow workers, whose names are in the book of life.
4 Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. 5 Let all men know your forbearance. The Lord is at hand. 6 Have no anxiety about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. 7 And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will keep your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
8 Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. 9 What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, do; and the God of peace will be with you.
There you have it.
Our final hymn was #624, Jerusalem the Golden, which always makes me cry. I was kind of a mess, mascara running all over, etc. Oh well. I am just a sentimental/crazy old lady who cries at hymns.
Most of my weekend was spent catching up on house maintenance and the like, which I do not mind. Life becomes a romance when you can learn to enjoy your everyday tasks and routines. Didn’t Oswald Chambers say something about that? (I think he was talking about our relationship with Christ, but it works here too.) Enjoy your home, I say, and part of that is taking care of it.
The OM and I babysat on Friday night while the boy and daughter #3 went out on the town…haha…they were home before 9 o’clock! The wee babes were great–a hand full–but great. I had forgotten what it is like to try to change a diaper on a boy-child who, when put on his back, immediately flips over. What a wrestling match ensues! Zut alors! I managed to get the little bud into his jammies, but I’m afraid they might have been backwards…C’est la vie. They were tuckered out but too wound up to go to bed, and when their parents arrived home, it was in the nick of time as Lottiebelle was having a meltdown and the OM’s patience was wearing thin. We headed home and I had a large glass of wine. They all came over for the last barbecue of the season on Sunday night.
In between I went to a work-related fundraiser–a “Hootenanny”–where a bunch of aging hippies and old communists plus President George H.W. Bush’s former Commissioner of the Immigration and Naturalization Service sang 1960s folk songs accompanied by a ukelele band. I’m telling you, truth is stranger than fiction. It was more fun than you would think and the story of my life.
Now it is Monday already and it’s back to the salt mine. Enjoy the day!