Today is Sunday.
I thought it was Monday. I believed it so much I believed the date/time stamp was messed up on my laptop. So much so that I rebooted my satellite dish, downloaded new programming and it was only when the tech said, laughingly, “It’s Sunday, Ms Bedderd. Nothing is broken. Happens to us all.”
But I still hope it’s Monday. I’m still somewhat confused how I lost a day in my brain, so thoroughly that I would have argued with her, but the evidence supported her theory that it is Sunday.
Yesterday, browsing over my FB Newsfeed, a name of person caught my eye. One of those charismatic religious leaders. It was a link posted by a generous, devoted Catholic. And I blew up, and wrote a wretched note about the whole thing. And something hit me. I wrote her, removed my inappropriate remarks, she in turn removed her defense. And then she wrote me a note, forgiving me.
So, although in my heart it’s Monday, I will accept it is Sunday. The Lord’s day. Let us be glad and rejoice…
Papa, are you there?? It’s me, Vicki
Photo by Bruce Bane.