Today has been a quiet day. When Jim came home from work, he was feeling tired and running a fever so he went directly to bed, sprawling across diagonally from one corner to the next. Church would have to do without him today. I still felt tired, so I crawled into the bed in the guestroom and fell back to sleep. I woke sometime after noon and picked up a paperback lying next to the bed, titled “The Trouble With Angels” by Debbie Macomber. A friend had told me that it was a good read. It wasn’t bad; I lay in bed and read most of it, then got up, fixed some dessert, and finished the book. Then I went back for another nap! In spite of the beautiful sun shining outside and the temperature actually getting up in the high 50’s, I covered up and slept some more.
Finally I roused myself enough to get up and take the dog for a short walk. I didn’t want to waste this warm weather entirely! Sammo was excited about getting out and about; he pranced and sniffed his way around the neighborhood. I guess I did the human version of prancing and sniffing—I checked out all the signs that spring is on its way—the tulips and daffodils poking their heads up out of the ground, the fat robin sitting under a tree, the neighbors leaving their garage doors open while they puttered around outside. We returned home, and I fixed some dessert for Jim this time. He seems to be feeling better. Then I came to the computer to browse through my favorite sites. And write my Sunday entry.
And I realize that this quiet Sunday is exactly what I must have needed. Lazing through the day, soaking up the warm sunshine—I am content. Contentment is a feeling that eludes me when I’m always rushing from work to home to a meeting to a chore to an obligation. And when I took a day to rest, a day to listen to my tired body, contentment found me and curled up beside me, and said, “Isn’t this nice?”