Skipping Sunday
Someone recently asked me if I hate Tuesdays. I answered, “Yes.” Doug died on a Tuesday and they will be hard for me for the foreseeable future. As I thought more about that conversation I came to realize that Sundays are even harder. I would like to go to bed on Saturday and not wake up until Monday. I would like to skip Sunday. We were together on Sundays more often than any other day of the week and when we returned to the US it was difficult for me to go and sit in a church service and not participate in some way. However, my ministry role had transitioned from that of pastor’s wife to full-time caregiver and I could not slack. I had to be content with sitting in a service when I could and allow others to minister. Since Doug’s Home going, Sundays have become even more difficult. Songs of worship often bring on tears; especially the ones that address the resurrection. When someone prays, I find myself reaching for Doug’s hand. When the pastor makes an interesting point, I want