Sunday Afternoons...

...are when Uncles make babies laugh and big hands are next to small ones.

And when a wife loves her husband and he looks like a king because of her love, and she is beautiful as his crown.

When people laugh out loud and gasp at stories as thy eat roast and potatoes and drink water from a solo cup,

and when mothers share hearts, open and honest. Where struggles and victories and thoughts are mulled over and laid bare.

When quiet husbands laugh with pleasure over their bubbly wives,

and you pause and watch a baby grin and make baby sounds.

When you have to stop and run home to get something that will somehow try and capture what you see around you and and that is filling your heart with gratitude for all that God has done, and for how He leads us and guides us to where He wants us to be, and how His will is perfect.

 For the bright blue pitchers filled with white Georgia cotton that look like sky and clouds.

When people listen.

And people laugh,

as they watch a hilarious sister tell stories like no one else can...

...and when girls hold adorable babies and sunlight comes though windows and they look like a painting.

When little boys with chocolate on their cheeks pause and tilt their curly heads sideways and give you smiles that melt your heart. A little laugh before they run back outside.

When the smell of coffee is strong and you wash a cup because they all got used during the morning service, and the steam curls up, up, and you see a funny sign on the shelf from a precious friend that makes you laugh because it's so true...I like a touch of coffee with my cream and sugar....

When you see the beauty of a heart that is God's, and hands that serve even if no one sees...

...and a mother's eyes light up with love, watching her baby get to know those she loves.

When the boys are gentlemen, as always, and let the ladies go first, and then they go through laughing and piling plates high. When the covered dish coordinates into a thanksgiving feast by accident,

and you talk and get to know each other, sharing and listening. The doors open and close with children going in and out, and the hymnals are stacked up on that poor old piano.

The sound of a guitar's picking and people laughing over old family stories.

When you run hard and the Autumn wind catches the sound of your feet landing on the ground, and the shadow of the lattice makes a checker board of cold grass, warm grass on bare feet.

Breeze catches loose hair and it follows you to base. Someone counting to ten, the numbers each echoing across the still yard as you wait behind a car or column.

Three little men on the porch swing, laughing and making silly faces. Fingers holding tight to wooden slats as you see the ground under you instead of wooden floor boards.

And when you look up and see this, and realize how small you are, and how great He is, and that His love for you, reaches to the sky, and then on, forever.
As far as the east is from the west, so far has he taken my sins from me.
As far as the heavens are above the earth, so great is my Father's love.

Sunday afternoons are when you go back inside, and look around at faces close to you, and know you are loved.

It is so good to dwell together in unity. For there the Lord commands the blessing-life forever.

I hope your Autumn is behaving beautifully. Ours is! Much love to you! And much joy, thinking about The Church, and of loving Her...

Look up!

~Adeline