Isn't Sunday the day that I'm supposed to rest in the Lord? Yet I haven't really done that in a long time. And when I make the effort to plan that, those plans fall apart like one of my German chocolate cakes (but the cakes, at least, taste better when they crumble apart). Things come up, and I find myself running here and there and filling my day with this and that until it's time to sleep (or in my case, fall unconscious), and I've barely done the things that were piled on my plate.
Why is resting so much work?
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