Working on Sunday

"Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven." - from the Our Father

We decided to skip church today. Again. It's not a trend, and it's not a reflection of any crisis of faith. It's just that sometimes skipping church is a necessary evil, if you will.

I used to affectionately but a little guiltily refer to these days as "Lazy Sunday." But not anymore.

When we skipped church one rainy Sunday a few months ago, that description sparked an interesting conversation between me and another daddy blogger on Twitter (you can follow me here: @DKLblog). He was doing the same thing (from the other side of the country, mind you). And he gave me a new perspective. 

He said he doesn't consider it to be lazy... that we're doing His work by giving love and attention to the things that are most important: family, home. This blogger's name is Joe, he lives outside Seattle and calls his blog Manhood v. Dadhood.  Click and check him out. He's worth following because he's deep and one of the nicest guys I've 'met' in the daddy blogosphere.

His description has allowed me to feel less guilty on Sundays we stay home. Our decision to join an Episcopal church is also a big factor in my lack of guilt. I was raised Catholic, so I know all about the guilt. My mother still gives me a guilt trip about joining an Episcopal church.

Sure, our immediate motivation, or lack thereof, for staying home is rooted in laziness. That particular day back in May, we felt we needed a day to decompress after going non-stop for a few weeks and having several busy weekends in a row. Some long overdue projects in the house needed tending to as well. And like I mentioned, it was raining.

I do believe that sometimes we can better serve God by bettering our home and making those in it happier and more comfortable. What a great way to look at things. That Sunday, I cleaned out and reorganized our garage. We played more games and read more books with the peanut than we had the other six days of the week combined.

She liked this one because it reminded her of nighttime

On another "Skip Sunday," we took her to an art museum to see an Andy Warhol exhibit. She and I played a game. Every time we entered a new room with a new group of artwork hanging on the walls, we had to run to our favorite and then say why we liked it (sounds very Pagan, I admit). She loved it, though.

I think God understands. I think we all worship Him and love Him and follow Him in different ways.

The Monday after that museum trip, we arrived home after daycare pickup. The peanut wanted to color. I love when she chooses anything besides television to occupy her while I cook. I set her up with paper and crayons at her little craft table, and started dinner. A few minutes later, she came into the kitchen holding a picture.

She hung her picture on the fridge.

"Do you know who it is, daddy?"

"Is it me?"

"No. Look. He has a beard."

I was totally stumped. Santa? My Uncle Norb? Ulysses S. Grant?

She finally enlightened me: "It's Jesus."

Holy crap.

We hadn't been to church in two weeks. And she sat down at her table and drew a picture of Jesus, cross and all, without prompting.

If that's not God's work... I don't know what is.

This isn't the first time the peanut has reminded me of our faith. Click here to read about it