I wonder about Daylight Savings Time.
Now that we have set our clocks forward one hour, as we do each Spring, I notice the sense of disconnection between my body and the surrounding world. It's still dark at dinnertime. It's still dark when I go to sleep at night.
It's even darker when I wake up in the morning. I want to rise up, no wait, I don't either. I want to snuggle down, no wait, I have to get up.
Where is the daylight I saved?
I'm not the only one to take time to adjust, it seems. On Sunday we had about half of the church population we would have had during the first hour, which includes Sunday School period. During the second worship hour, we had considerably more folks than we normally do. Many rushed in as if blown there on the wind, breathless and slightly disoriented. It was actually rather grand to think that people care enough about being at church that they make the effort it took to get there, especially the families with young children.
The thing I particularly liked was seeing the slight wildness in the eyes of some of the kids. Although it wasn't a holiday, they knew there was something out of the ordinary, something unusual about the day, something just a little bit higher pitched about Sunday. There was a little more jumping, hopping, bobbing in the pews, and mayhem in the Children's Church. It was a day to ditch the calm, coloring pages and have a jumping, hopping, bobbing game instead.
So we did. It was grand. It was loud. It was fun. No one won. Everybody won.
Is that where the extra daylight went?
You gotta wonder.
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