on wednesdays, we wear pajamas...

Wednesday mornings are my Sabbath.

On Wednesdays, I sleep in. And by sleep in, I mean sleep in. I wake between 10:30AM and 11:30AM. It is holy and glorious and I am not one bit ashamed.

I sleepily tread to the kitchen; I pull my favorite mug from the cupboard and fill it with piping hot coffee, cooling it down to a drinkable temperature with some pumpkin spice creamer (mmmmmhmmmmmm, give me all the pumpkins). This morning, I paired it with some homemade monkey bread, courtesy of my amazing chef of a roommate. Perfection, ladies and gentlemen.

My bed, still warm from the nights sleep, welcomes me back. I gather my pens, Bible, journal and devotional readings and prepare my heart for what is ahead.

Wednesday mornings, I sit with Jesus, soaking in His truth, allowing it to soothe my worn and weary heart like a sweet salve. I greet Him with my messy hair and pajamas, eager and antsy with excitement. I read and I write and I pray and I sit. His grace never fails to meet me in this place, the place where I set Him apart, above all things. 

The week before has torn my heart, and this is the place where Jesus mends it. This time with Him is unlike my time with Him throughout the week, it is slow and calm and open-ended. Hours are spent in His presence, there is no urgency to follow a schedule or to neatly box up the time; it is messy, strewn, and stretched.

These mornings routinely look like sleepy eyes, breakfast in bed, unrushed time with Jesus, dancing, and grace gatherings.

On Wednesdays, I sleep in and greet Jesus in my pajamas. 
And no, my pajamas are not pink.