This is going to be my one hour of writing about whatever I feel like writing about. YAY FOR SUNDAYS!

I feel like I've got some of my sanity back now. I think it was change that took it away temporarily. There've been so many new things in the last week or so: painting an apartment, moving in our own furniture, buying our own groceries, cooking for ourselves, starting new classes, having new homework and new roommates, meeting new people, even acting in new ways (like introducing myself to freshmen and showing them around). I desperately needed something to be the same, to be not new, but familiar, to be old or old-fashioned. I think that must be why I went to the traditional service at College Church today.

I've gone to College Church for my last two years at college, but always to the early service, the contemporary one, the "normal" one for college students. And second service I attended my beloved Sunday School class. Today as I walked to College Church at 10:30, I was debating. Did I want to go to the Sunday School class and see Melanie and Mark again? Or did I want to finally try attending the traditional service? I didn't decide until I was nearly at the door. And then it was so simple. I wanted to go to the traditional service--something slow and soft, with friendly old white-haired folks.

I've always gotten along with white-haired folks. It comes from living next door to my grandparents and in the same general vicinity as my grandpa's sisters and my grandma's mother. It comes from clinging to my family, who always loved me and even liked me, rather than venturing out and trying to make friends, who might not like me. So today when I sat down in the back row of the traditional service, seeing white and gray heads all over the sanctuary really brought a sense of comfort and belonging. I was one of two people there under the age of 50 until some unknowing freshmen came in and sat by me.

As I was sitting there before the service began, feeling a bit of darkness lift, two gray-haired women just came right up and started talking to me. :D One, it turned out, had almost been an English Ed major when she was in college, but had decided to change to Elementary Ed when one of her literature professors "got excited about things in literature that I just didn't get excited about!"

A man sat in front of me who was near 90. We didn't say hi, but during the service as I looked at his wrinkled skin and sparse hair, I felt something I had never felt before. I saw past the loose skin, age spots, gray hair and saw a treasure chest of stories there in his mind. 90 years of living--he'd seen two World Wars, the Great Depression, the innovations of the 50s, the revolution of the 60s, and on. What a wealth of wisdom was lying in that graying head! I wanted to talk to him, to ask him something crazy like, "So, tell me a story from life in the 40s." I decided that might be a little too forward and kept to myself. I sat back and thought of some ways I could possibly start a conversation with this man or any of the other folks that attended this service.

After the service I went to my Sunday School class, which, of course, had ended, and said hi to Melanie and Mark. "Where've you been??" Mark asked me as he invited me for a side hug. I like Mark a lot. He is...really practical, and I love that. Melanie is just the opposite; she's can certainly be impractical. They do say opposites attract. :) Mark is also very easy-going. Melanie is more high-strung. She's fun, though. I like her and her husband both, and I wish there was some way to attend their Sunday School class and the traditional service at the same time! But since that's not possible, I'm going to have to come up with a compromise, which I think I will be able to do.

The traditional service has a church choir that sings every Sunday. I loved listening to them today. However you look at it, I'm still a choir girl at heart. I decided when I heard them that I wanted to try and be a part. Last year my friend Karissa sang with the choir in the second service every Sunday and came to Mark and Melanie's Sunday School after the choir was done. So I know it's possible. I don't know if I have the drive Karissa does to do both, but I think it's worth a try.

Sundays are going to be the best days of the week for a while. At College Church, at 5 p.m., there is a thing called The Gathering. It's a post-modern worship service, with candles and floor mats and pillows and drawing boards and pretty music. It sounds kind of strange, but sometimes it's good to do every once in a while, just to kind of come back to yourself, to close your eyes and sing, to rest in a candlelit room for a while. Also Sunday nights is something called Ekklesia. I haven't gone yet, but I've heard that it is incredible. One of our professors here actually teaches it. It's basically a class to grow closer to God. But it's really good... Lots of food for thought, etc. I want to try that too.

And then there's the walk back from church to my dorm/apartment. Sundays after church are SO quiet. You can actually hear the birds chirping instead of them being drowned out by banging thoughts of where to go next, what to do, who to talk to, etc. And in the late summer/early fall, it's cool and sunny and the grass is still green and the trees' leaves are drifting gently down on the breeze. It's...healing.

I'm glad God made a day of rest for us. I'm glad the church has more or less tried to keep that alive.

Sometimes it feels like this world's spinning faster
Than it did in the old days
So naturally we have more natural disasters
From the strain of a fast pace

Sunday was the day of rest
Now it's one more day for progress
But we can't slow down
'Cause more is best
It's all an endless process

I miss Mayberry
Sittin' on the porch drinking ice cold Cherry
Coke, where everything was black & white
Pickin' on a six string
People pass by and you call 'em by their first name
Watching the clouds roll by
Bye bye

Until next time,
Stephanie

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