I used to not understand why my dad would return my Sunday phone calls on Monday because he never turned the sound back on after Sunday worship.
I used to not understand why my dad couldn’t stay awake after lunch on Sunday.
I used to not understand why neither of my parents actually made dinner (or even wanted to order dinner) on Sunday nights.
I get it now.
Sundays are so full. Sundays are so busy.
Sundays are so good.