I have said that I like the idea of Saturday night. Early evening, when sabbath ends, may be a fine time, perhaps around a dinner, or out, conversation, reflection, or whatever. But after the evening, when night settles in, I really like that it begins to lead into tomorrow proper, Day One.
These days, as I so, so look forward to Sunday it is more by faith than sight, but the smile is still here as I think about gathering with others.
Saturday nights, for me currently, are also about getting things back into order from the week. Puttering around, tidying, setting things back in place, a spray and a wipe here or there (I even found that I needed to dust the base of a lamp!), making sure the clock is wound, thinking very briefly what I might wear [does it match, well yes it does mostly, just like last week–it’s the same thing; and is it clean, well yes it is cuz remember Christmas morning while that turkey was roasting you did laundry, oh yeah right], and then settling in. All of it is accompanied by music, but then the settling in is more in tune with the music, as it is now.
Although Christmas day has passed, we are still in the midst of Christmastime, tomorrow being the sixth day. I like it, but it is interesting that in my mind, I’ve moved on from it. Last year’s “How was your Christmas?” I did not hear once. Before Christmas I heard a lot of this: “What are you doing for Christmas?” I hesitated a beat before answering each time, because why? I do not know. I did not at all want to sound anything other than thankful in my answer, but I had to tell them when they asked. “I am helping feed the homeless,” was all I could muster. And that was the truth with the turkey I roasted and then with the carving of the dozen others that were donated and the visiting during the meal and all. I suppose it is true that I did help. But I was so, so tired from the work before and the work of it that it did not receive my best I confess. I appreciate so much all of the work from countless others who poured their hearts into it.
So, it’s passed but still is, and I am going into Day One, tomorrow, with all of that and free of it and looking ahead while also being very much right here, right now on a Saturday night.
While tidying earlier, I took out the recycling and the small amount of trash that was in a bucket under the sink. It is raining constantly, and as I slipped my socked feet into very wet slippers outside my door and walked to the bins and felt the rain on my head and my shoulders and my arms, I cherished the feel of momentary discomfort. It is one of the sweetest sensations, really, because in relative luxury I can escape it soon enough. Yes, it is luxury to feel hungry, but temporarily so; to feel cold and wet, but only for a time; to be tired, but only until my eyes are closed.
I think, at all of those times, of those for whom discomfort is a way of life. I want to do more for them, but for now it will be a prayer for them, and tomorrow it will be praise of their Father and mine, the One who comforts all.
May he comfort you too, going into Day One . . .
Photograph “Saturday Sensation” © 2018 Timothy Waugh