Sundays

I had a whole piece written about why Sunday’s are hard right now. 

It had a decent metaphor. 

It was honest with just a touch of melodrama.

It dealt with missing my friends and missing my church and missing my family and missing my breaks and the general monotony plaguing us all right now.  (Too soon?) 

But I’m not going to post it. 

It’s totally okay that I wrote it.  It really is.  And it’s totally okay that I feel that way.  (My husband had to remind me of this tonight.  I usually feel guilty about being in bad moods.  Let’s not dive into the psychology of that tonight, alright?)

It wasn’t my best writing.  Definitely not my worst.  But I’m still not going to post it. 

Why? 

Because it doesn’t serve a purpose. 

It’s just me venting.  Me trying to put into words just exactly how I’m feeling.  Which is exactly how the majority of the country is feeling. 

So, instead, I’m going to tell you what I just did. 

I thought about doing it last week and chickened out.  I thought I needed preparation or something and found a way to put it off. 

Tonight?  Tonight I felt the Holy Spirit say, “Remember that idea?  Why not?”

So I did. 

I walked around my street tonight praying over every house and its occupants.  I prayed against sickness and disease.  I prayed for protection.  And I tried to let the Spirit speak as I went. 

Some homes I prayed that they would find entertainment.  They would discover new movies, old puzzles, Zoom, and games. 

Some homes I prayed for mercy and the chance to see family again.  Even if it was just to say good-bye.  That they would be able to hold hands and smile and pray in each other’s presence again. 

Some I begged for guardians and helpers.  That they would have protectors in their older age that would bring them everything they would need.  They would be safe from germs.  That their homes, their light switches, their doorknobs, their groceries, their mail, everything would be clean and free and they would be safe. 

I asked the Lord to provide companionship to some.  That they would have family and old friends and new friends reaching out over the phone or Zoom or even letters.  That they wouldn’t be isolated even in this isolation. 

For two homes I begged provision and favor as they go into their hospitals.  For protection and masks and gloves and wisdom. 

For another I prayed for prosperity.  That their restaurants would be shown favor.  That Take Out Tuesday benefit them and they wouldn’t have to close.  That if they did have to shut their doors for a time, they would be able to bond as a family in ways that they haven’t been able to in years.  That they would enjoy and relish their time together before they had to give their lives back to their restaurants. 

I prayed that our street would be an anomaly.  That sickness would stay off of it and out of it. 

And then I said thanks.  Because for another week, we had been kept safe. 

I don’t know everyone that lives on my street. 

But I prayed and trusted the Holy Spirit to pray for something specific if it needed to be prayed for. 

I will walk my street every Sunday from here on out.  Because Sundays are hard for a variety of reasons but I’m going to keep fighting and pushing and protecting.  Not just for my family.  Not just for my friends.  But for everyone around me.  Even those I haven’t met yet. 

I don’t type this as a “look at me, look at me!”

I type this as a battle cry.  And hopefully an inspiration. 

Let’s make Sunday a day of thanksgiving.  Another week down in this fight.  Another couple hundred people I did NOT spread my germs too. 

And another chance to walk my street and plead the blood of Jesus over those literally closest to me.  If they look out their window, sure, I might look weird.  Or crazy.  If they ask what I’m doing, I’ll tell them.  And then ask if there’s anything I can be praying specifically for them this week.  And then I’ll ask if there’s anything they need that maybe I could help with. 

They might not like it. 

They might not like me. 

But that doesn’t matter.  It really doesn’t. 

I’m not going to be another voice lamenting how hard this is (At least not this week).  Instead, join me in rejoicing that another week has passed.  That we are one week closer to “Someday”. 

And then let’s walk our streets or our complex or our building praising and praying for that protection to continue.  For mercy to be shown to those that need it.  For provision to be given.  And for all of us to have the continued strength to stay away from each other.  To put the many over ourselves and our comfort.  To trust and understand that sometimes showing God’s love means keeping those we’ll never meet from our germs.  That those hidden from us are more important than our convenience. 

Lord, give us endurance.  Please.  Give us patience.  Give us entertainment and conversations and art projects and home projects that will give us a sense of satisfaction when they are completed.  But most of all, let us hear your voice.  Let us not be deaf to the moving of your Spirit now.  If you tell us to pray, then let us hear you.  If you tell us to be still, let us hear you.  If you tell us to buy ‘this’ for ‘them’, let us hear you.  Teach us now what it still looks like to be your hands and feet.  We love you.  In Jesus name.  Amen.