My brilliant daughter’s analogy

My middle daughter and I caught a few moments alone going to the grocery store or some such.  As we were driving she let out a soft sigh and said, “You know, summer is really like a weekend.  June is like Friday, where you have some school and then you get to have a bunch of freedom.  July is like Saturday where you don’t have to be anywhere or do anything.  And then August is like Sunday, when you know its all coming to an end and you have to hurry and do the things you didn’t.”

“That’s brilliant,” I told her.  And later, when I told her dad, he said “that’s pretty darn good.” And then, when we were at the table, I made her tell her older sister her analogy and this older sister who rarely says anything nice about, well, anyone, smiled her wide smile and looked at her sister in amazement and said “you’re a freakin’ genius.”

So, here we are, early in summer’s Sunday morning, making plans to squeeze it all in. Or not.  Strangely, I’ve been feeling the need for a time of worship as, even here on a hot Thursday morning, it does feel like early Sunday morning.  This is completely off topic, but the one thing I dislike about summer services is that they rarely do feel like worship (this coming from the co-chair of the committee that is supposed to be nurturing those services to do so).  I feel myself hungering for a time of communion with songs and prayers and words that provoke the kind of self-reflection that moves me out of the self and toward the work that can be done when people of like hopes stop talking and do.

I think I’ll take some deep breaths here, in the analogy of Sunday morning, to re-center and re-align my hopes with my actions.  This is one of the things worship is supposed to do for us, right? In the name of God, or in the name of what we hold dear, this worship is to help us move forward with the work we are given to do in a spirit that brings renewal.  And that renewal–is that what allows us to meet the next disappointment, challenge, or raging teen as not a personal affront but as the next thing to work through or around while we maintain our sense of purpose and hope?

Something to think about on this not-so-Sunday morning.

Advertisements

About TinaLBPorter

I write poetry and blog at www.tinalbporter.com. And I'm thrilled to be writing with you.
This entry was posted in Unitarian Universalism. Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to My brilliant daughter’s analogy

  1. uuMomma says:

    Karen….right back at ya, there!

    Like

  2. Karen says:

    Did you know that the Pagan holiday Lammas, which falls on August 1 or 2 depending on the specific tradition, as addition to being about this cycle’s first harvest, is a time dedicated to reflection on our accomplishments, and a time to learn to let go of things not yet accomplished? A time of realignment, as it were. It’s the beginning of autumn. And also much like a Sunday morning, although I never would have thought of that analogy on my own. Middle daughter IS brilliant – much like her mom.
    Best of luck with that worship retreat… 😉

    Like

  3. uuMomma says:

    Oh, Venessa. Yes. Let’s think of it that way. I hope you are physically well. Am thinking of you…and remembering…and hoping you find much to hope for today! Bless you,

    Like

  4. radicalmama says:

    That is such an accurate analogy. Kudos to daughter. And you can never quite fit it all in, either.

    So can we think of Mondays as the beginning of the renewal? The new year/week/starting-over- moment? Mondays as hope- that’s new one.

    Like

  5. uuMomma says:

    Thanks, MsKitty. Good to hear from you. Yes, we have our worship retreat coming up and I hope we can find time to tackle some of this this year, as well.

    Like

  6. mskitty says:

    UUMomma, what a great post and what a bright kid your middle daughter is! I crave the same thing on summer Sundays and rarely find it. It’s something I hope our worship committee will take on as a challenge next year when we are in our own space and meeting year-round.

    Like

Comments are closed.