Today was a typical Sunday. I woke up around six and enjoyed staying in bed under the warm covers for a little longer. I got up and took the dogs for a rather chilly walk, fed them, ate my grapefruit and cereal, and put dinner in the crockpot. Then I went upstairs and read for a while before it was time to shower and head to church.
Worship was wonderful and the sermon was great. I took notes in my new-for-2015 purple sermon notebook. Then it was time for small group. I love the people in my small group. We came home and it only took me a few minutes to make some garlic cheese grits and some green beans to go with the pork tenderloin that was ready in the crockpot. I whipped some cream to top a chocolate pie I made yesterday, and dinner was ready. Since I made dinner, George sweetly cleaned it up and I headed upstairs to run. I did a little over four miles, showered, re-dressed, and headed to Friendly Shopping Center with Matt to do a little back to school shopping. We grabbed Cookout on the way home, I walked the dogs and in a little while I’ll watch Downton Abbey with George.
Yep, a typical Sunday–except it wasn’t. Today was the seventh anniversary of my last chemo treatment, a day that feels to me like a second birthday. Since then, there really hasn’t been any day that’s typical. All of them are a gift. I am grateful.