Weeks go by quickly and before I know it, it is First Day again, or should I call that Sunday? In our family, right now, we seem to use the two interchangeably. Yesterday, I overslept and so our weekly dilema of whether I am well enough to go out to Meeting or Church became a moot point. Neither did we have to decide then which one we would head off to; that in itself was renewing. Instead, after a slow morning, we meandered around my favorite farm in our area, which is actually just minutes from our homestead. We feel right at home there as my husband and older daughter spent several seasons participating in a work exchange-education program at the farm. So when we go, we tend to allow ourselves to go to all the little forbidden hide-aways in these precious acres. Of course for me, that leads us along the straightest path possible through the woods and to the rocky creek below.
Memorial day denotes the official start of barefoot season at my house. It also means the big rubber boots that we water stomp in get tossed off and the first few steps in cold spring water are taken. Little one never hesitates.
I'm not convinced that God is offended by our lack of attendance, but rather may allow us to worship him along different paths in different seasons of life. Dear one often does devotionals of the girls choice and Bible readings for us on a Sunday, and so joined us and brought it all along with my picnic quilt. We set up our time for quiet comtemplation and devotions right there along the water.
Little one decided she could listen best from this rock that she affectionately named her "devotional rock." We all have our different learning styles!