Sunday Afternoons

The sun peeked its way through the winter sky into our living room today, providing the perfect formula for a good read + nap. If it was any other day, it would be difficult to get over the sense of guilt I often feel in watching the daylight hours pass by.... but I learned at an early age that Sunday afternoons are sacred. On Sundays, you throw away the must-do, get-done, shopping list mentality. You stop. You pause. You slow down. 

Sunday is the gift of being lazy, getting cozy, and breathing deep before the week.

Lying on the couch with my face to the sun beams, glancing at Ashley curled up on the couch across the room, I returned to that sense of safety I often felt when I was young during the precious hours after church and before family dinner on Sundays. 

On Friday, I was chatting with some friends about the difference between being nostalgic and sentimental. Though I'm often a sentimental person, it rarely swings into a sense of nostalgia. But today I felt nostalgia return in its purest sense, remembering those slow Sunday afternoon hours spent at home with my family - dinner and resting - a feeling of peace that sprang from knowing we were all together. 

And for me, togetherness is the best kind of feeling.

And sometimes it's the simple things - a Sunday afternoon of doing nothing special - that show me there's really no other place I would rather be but here.