Basking

I’ve had time today to be home. To really be home on a gorgeous fall day. This has included sweatpants and slippers, coffee, paper-reading, baking, sewing, homework. It has been glorious. I am grateful for my cozy home, and I decided to bask in it. I lit candles that I usually only light when I have company. I turned my music up really loud. I plugged in the wine bottle filled with white lights that dad made me—again, something I usually save for company—I don’t want to waste electricity after all.

I got to thinking about how so often, my home becomes just a house. During the week, I can sometimes leave at 7am not to return until 11pm. My house becomes just a filling station for sleep, food, laundry. Oh yes, and a car wash—shower. I grab the receipt for all of the above on the way out the door, knowing I’ll be back for more, as needed.

I do this with God too. I get busy. Talking with him or spending any amount of time with him becomes a rushed transaction. More Saturday night, God—don’t you worry—I’ll be at church then! I don’t bask in Him enough. Unlike my house though which is pretty immobile, God goes with us all day everyday, so there’s really no excuse. My prof was recently talking about how he thinks daily living—driving to work, talking to a friend, eating dinner—should be a form of prayer or worshipping God. It’s a hard concept to grasp because so often we set parameters and timeframes around such things. Prayer happens for x amount of minutes before bed or in the morning. Likewise, worship happens for the first 40 minutes of church on such and such day.

I want to be with God all the time though, in the way I was at home today. Basking in him in my sweatpants and slippers. Really enjoying his peace and hope.