Dear Sunday

Dear Sunday,

I rolled into your arms for the billionth time this morning, but it felt like the first time.

The sunrise peeking through my makeshift curtain out of blankets, kissed my bare face and gave me the feeling I could take anything on in that quiet room.

I sipped on a cup of coffee, which still feels like a mix of home and adventure, while I deemed brushing my hair, and even putting on base makeup as a poor use of our time together.

I read a blog, and did a devotion under the covers about missions in my own apartment complex.

I watched a dear friend breathe while she slept on my couch.

I packed my bag for a Sunday of worship, day on the water, and a class on non - violence in the evening.

I talked to my sister and teared up cause I just love her a lot.

Dear Sunday,

I think you go unnoticed too often. But you look might fine from where I'm sitting.

Simple. Significant.