A Promise Fulfilled
The day dawned with Keith in our room. "Dad! Wanna know my dream?!" he trilled jubilantly. Jeffrey groaned, rolled over and buried his head beneath the pillow. I glanced up to the window. The sky was pink lemonade and whipping cream. I hoped it was a good omen, because Sundays are hard for us. I smiled at Keith and asked him to tell me his dream. He began rambling about Mine Craft which is a video game I have a personal vendetta against. If I could put a virus in that game, I would in a heartbeat! Not that I know how, but I often wish I did. Anyway, Keith rambled about Mine Craft and I thought about the day and what it held in store.
10 minutes later and Keith was still going on about his "dream," Jeffrey kicked the two of us out. I went up to make breakfast and look over my lesson: The Restoration of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Yay! I was very excited for this lesson because it was like teaching on my mission again. I have a deep love for the Gospel, and sharing it at even its simplest form brings me great joy.
By some miracle I got the family ready, and planned a Family Home Evening lesson on keeping the Sabbath day holy. A topic of some debate in my family.
We made a list of appropriate and inappropriate Sunday activities. We talked about the importance of obeying all of God's commandments, and the blessings which follow. Then I was impressed to make a promise. If we could do this (keep the Sabbath day holy, following the guidelines we had set up) we would grow to love Sundays, feel Heavenly Father's love deeper, and grow closer as a family.
And we did it! After church we had dinner (leftovers- it was fast Sunday, we were hungry, and I didn't want to cook.). After we had happy filled tummies, Jeffrey and the children built a fire in the fireplace, and I made some brownies and hot cocoa mix.
Outside it was dark. Murky black clouds and a biting wind impressed the coziness on our minds. With the soft glow from the Christmas lights (tree, village, mantle, etc) and the crackling fire, we gathered in the living room. Gooey brownies and marshmallow melting cocoa sat on the coffee table. We cuddled on the couch around the mesmerizing words of JR Tolkien. The children were quiet, soaking up the story. When Faye began to get restless we put the book down, put on jammies, read scriptures, and got the kids in bed.
And then it was our time.
It was dark and quiet.
When I had tucked Faye in for the third and final time, a story book storm knocked on the windows and doors with fistfuls of torrential rain. Thunder echoed down the chimney, seeking four our cozy moment. Lightning peeked through the clouds in a strobe light fashion, coaxing, hypnotizing. Jeffrey and I sat on the couch, cuddled up and watching the dying embers. No words were needed to share our contentment. As the storm grey weary of our repose it skulked away, signaling to us it was time for us to also retire.
"Jeffrey, this is perfect!" I sighed.
"Mmmm." he agreed. He is a man of few words.
It seems, that our efforts to make Sunday a very special day had succeeded!