IT

IT'S SUNDAY MORNING

One Sunday morning while sitting in church, I became homesick for my kids and the days of yesteryear. I longed for the confusion of Saturday night baths and the smell of shoe polish newly applied. I pictured the Sunday dinner roast nesting in a ring of peeled potatoes, carrots and onions in the refrigerator waiting to be popped into the oven, just before we left for Sunday School. The last person out of the house always checked if the timer was turned on. I could almost smell the aroma of the roast ready dinner as we came home after church, but most of all I longed for those precious children to be found in the house of the Lord with their families wherever they are today.

It’s Sunday morning, Jesus. Where are our kids today?

Will they take a trip to Your house or will they simply play?

It’s Sunday morning, Jesus, please prod their tender hearts.

They need the house of the Father, where Christian fellowship starts.

It’s Sunday morning, Jesus. My memory takes me back

To other Sunday mornings when our little car was packed.

They need to be in church Lord, They could fill some empty pews.

But they offer lame excuses, like the baby needs new shoes.

It’s Sunday morning, Jesus, at church we’ll gather in

I know there are empty spaces, when other things crowd in.

Dear Lord, this Sunday morning, could You do a memory check?

Could You remind our children that they need to be on deck.?

It’s Sunday morning Jesus. I’m sitting in my pew

Tears interrupt my worship. Missing folk must grieve You too.