To many Christians, the hardest day of the week to face is not Monday morning and trying to prepare for work.

Instead, it is Sunday morning and trying to prepare for church. The Commodores once said that famous phrase “Easy Like Sunday Morning”. But to many Christians. Sunday is not “easy”. It is burdensome to wake up to.

Singles, the lonely, the recovering addicts, the mourning of a lost loved one, the anxious fearing a wrathful ‘calling out’ of their shortcomings, the aloof, the social savants…….

When the daybreak appears at around 6 AM after another restless night…

where the single did all they could to fight their temptations of clubbing or wanting to just go somewhere to end up in another bed with some member of the opposite sex sleeping beside them…

where the ex-addict did all they could do to fight off the temptation to cave into the craving of their flesh to re-partake once again the substances that started their ex-spiral downward some time ago…

where the lonely sat up yearning for that lost loved one who has died or that spouse that decided that “till death do us part” meant nothing at all…

where the anxious sweated and shook all night fearing being exposed and “called out” over their known weaknesses and shortcomings in their pastor’s sermon hours later…

The hangover, guilt, anxiety, loneliness, and desperation increases and intensifies. It’s breakfast time and some try to get a couple of hours more sleep hoping to either get some rest from the past night’s events that tormented them for after church it’s hobby day, or get a couple of hours more sleep hoping that they oversleep their church starting time, or go face the day by starting off for breakfast.

Ladies and Gentlemen….. Sunday Morning Has Now Come Down

Sunday Morning Coming Down
by Johnny Cash

Well, I woke up Sunday morning
With no way to hold my head that didn’t hurt.
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn’t bad,
So I had one more for dessert.
Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt.
Then I washed my face and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.

I’d smoked my mind the night before
With cigarettes and songs I’d been picking.
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Playing with a can that he was kicking.
Then I walked across the street
And caught the Sunday smell of someone frying chicken.
And it took me back to something that I’d lost
Somewhere, somehow along the way.

Chorus:
On a Sunday morning sidewalk,
I’m wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
‘Cause there’s something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone.
And there’s nothing short a’ dying
That’s half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalk
And Sunday morning coming down.

In the park I saw a daddy
With a laughing little girl that he was swinging.
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
And listened to the songs they were singing.
Then I headed down the street,
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing,
And it took me back to something that I’d lost
Somewhere, somehow along the way.

(repeat chorus)

Unfortunately in some cases, the Saturday night battle is sometimes lost.

The single ends up clubbing or at the gentlemen’s club and ends up in a bed with some stranger that they have no idea what they have done and if a baby will be present nine months later, or an STD will be present weeks later…

The ex-addict in his struggle succumbed to the substance…

The lonely feels the desperation and succumbs to the depression and oppression of hopelessness….

The anxious prayed all the sleepless night long and watched late night Christian television on TBN and BET but still feels no relief from the wrath they believe they will ultimately experience…

And somehow, someway…. They have to face that day…… The day where it appears peaceful in the external environment but the internal soul is deeply shamed, guilty, tormented, afraid, etc. The day where most will hear a sermon from another “Super preacher” of how their ducks are in a row and you can have mega victory and something is wrong with you if you don’t have the victory….

The lack of victory that causes you to keep your head hung low… The lack of victory that causes you to slip into church late to where hopefully people will not notice….. The lack of victory that causes you to feel afterward more shamed and guilt ridden than the two hours before when you experienced the one little victory by just walking inside those doors.

The shame, guilt, inferiority one feels because they are not in mega victory… And/or is it because the time and Kingdom of innocence has came and went or the Kingdom of innocence and happy memories of childhood was supposed to have naively lasted a lifetime. A lifetime free from pain, struggle, suffering, betrayal, despair, failure, loneliness, anxiety, fear, and inferiority. That lifetime, you can have for some hundredfold blessing, confessing at the repent-a-thon, voting Republican, and never disagreeing with your pastor no matter if he is wrong or not

That Sunday where one day……

You will somehow meet that spouse that many seasoned Christians told you was at the church looking specifically for you and you only, the uncompromising and strong warrior and the loneliness and trials of 3 AM will never exist again….

You will somehow be forever free from the eternal war of addiction to where addiction never attacks you again and victory is not measured day-by-day, but measured by the assurance of the power of God

You will somehow one day be reconciled to that loved one in heaven and/or one day, all the issues of selfishness that cause the great divide will be reconciled and the relationship will somehow be restored…

You will somehow one day never have to be anxious again believing the lie that God is out to pop you with the whammy wrath….

Maybe Johnny Cash had it right when he stated that

‘Cause there’s something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone.

The widowed, the addicted, the single, the anxious, the social savant, the burdened….. Who still come week after week and greets the person beside them, but still feels disconnected, lonely, wounded, outcast, and fearful…..

And I stopped beside a Sunday school
And listened to the songs they were singing.

and how over the years, the songs went from hymns that enforced sound doctrine to a syrupy diet coke jingle of Jesus the instant doctor that somehow instantly takes away that loneliness, singleness, anxiety, addiction, pain, and suffering caused by that rat fink Satan. However, they stayed for the sermon that once was expository Bible preaching that delved further and deeper into the meat of the Scriptures (enhanced by the hymns of doctrine) that has now become a three point pop-culture psycho analysis less the leather chair promising success, victory, and freedom if you follow the three steps and leave an offering; and further guilt and shame you when you are not successful…..

When you realize that the ‘cutting-edge, new thing’ (actually someone else’s re-legalism) does not set you free, but deepens your inadequacies because you couldn’t do something documented in another Johnny Cash song…. walk the line

Johnny Cash
I Walk The Line

I keep a close watch on this heart of mine.
I keep my eyes wide open all the time.
I keep the ends out for the tie that binds.
Because you’re mine, I walk the line.

I find it very, very easy to be true.
I find myself alone when each day is through.
Yes, I’ll admit that I’m a fool for you.
Because you’re mine, I walk the line.

As sure as night is dark and day is light.
I keep you on my mind both day and night.
And happiness I’ve known proves that it’s right
Because you’re mine, I walk the line.

You’ve got a way to keep me on your side.
You give me cause for love that I can’t hide.
For you I know I’d even try to turn the tide.
Because you’re mine, I walk the line.

You don’t feel the victory enough to keep going….
You don’t feel the strength to fight another Saturday Night battle
You don’t feel the love of God to feel called His child
You don’t feel the providence and sovereignty to have faith.
You don’t feel the innocence and the redemption to feel victorious.

You just simply wish that Sunday morning was easy once again. Where like a child with no worries about an addiction, an one night stand, an anxiety, a loneliness, a defeat. You want to be on an emotional high and also be free from the pain, the scorn, the ridicule, the shame, the inadequacies, the defeat, the loneliness, the trauma, and the grief. But through it all, somehow…… you still believe

Russ Taff – I Still Believe

ts a long hard road.
Lotta changes comin’
Hard changes.

I’ve been out in a cave,
For forty days.
With a spark,to light my way.
I wanna give out,
I wanna give in.
This is our crime,this is our sin.

Bridge:
But I still believe,
I still believe.

Thru the pain and thru the grief.
Thru the lies and thru the storms.
Through the cries and through the wars.

Bridge:
But I still believe,
I still believe.
OOOHHH I still believe,
Oooohh,yoooohoooo…
I still believe.. ahhwoooohooooo…
Now,now now….

Flat on my back,
Out at sea.
I’m a hopin’ these waves,
Don’t cover me.
I’m turned and tossed,
Upon the waves.
When the darkness comes,
I feel the grave..

Bridge:
But I still believe,
I still believe.

Thru the cold and thru the heat.
Thru the rain and thru the tears.
Thru the crowds and thru the cheers.

Bridge:
But I still believe,
I still believe.

Chorus:
I still believe
You can’t take that away from me no..
IIIIIIII..believe.
Ahhwoooohooooo…
NOW,NOW.NOW…

(break)

I’ll march this road,
And I’ll climb this hill.
Upon my knees if I have to.
I’ll take my place,
Upon this stage,
I’ll wait till the end of time,for yooouu…
Ooooooowhawhooooo..

(2nd break)

I do believe
I believe..
OOOOOHHHHHHHH..
You can’t take that away me..
Noooooooooo…I still believe…
OOOOOOHHHHHH…

For people like us,
In places like this.
We need all the hope,
That we can get..
I… Believe.
I….Believe.
Thru the shame and the grief.
Thru the heartache and thru the tears.
Thru the waiting and all the years.
I STILL BELIEVE..
I MUST BELIEVE..
OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOO….
I STILL BELIEVE…YEAH…
OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOO….
NOW,NOW,NOW.
I still believe.

You still believe that

One day…. Your addiction will be gone
One day…. Your future spouse will arrive
One day…. Your relationships will be restored
One day…. Your anxiety and fears will be replaced by peace and love
One day…. Your tragedy becomes testimony
One day…. Your heartache becomes healing
One day…. Your prodigal returns home

Through the wars, the tears, shame, scorn, secrets, years, dusty roads, memories, dark alleys…

and the eternal fight of Saturday night will one day end with the redemption, resurrection, and victory experienced on Sunday morning and everyday thereafter. You sit there looking successful on the outside but on the inside spiritually feel like the malnourished child in the African desert ravaged by the poverty, wars, and the flies that circle around their eyes.

You want peace, victory, love, acceptance, comfort, and warmth… and you walk down the lonely sidewalk wondering where and how can I find this…..

And it took me back to something that I’d lost
Somewhere, somehow along the way.

this victory you “lost”…… when you want to experience the Amazing Grace of once being lost but found again, blind but now you see, tired but now rested, addicted but now free…. But you could never find it on a wide and paved sidewalk.

You can only find it on a dusty, straight, and narrow road that leads you to the Cross at Calvary where Jesus died and shed his blood for our sins, but rose on the third day. You were never expected to walk the line in the first place. You were required to walk down the straight and narrow road no matter what it costs. Sunday afternoon fried chicken and church at the park never dealt with the inner workings of the soul. Only Jesus can.

You were never designed to surrender nor quit….
You were fearfully and wonderfully made to somehow go Onward, Forward, Toward…

And Onward, Forward, Toward… is how, where, when, and why you and I keep on moving to fight the good fight and finish the race…..

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