Wake up. Drag yourself out of bed.
Preparation. Bathing. Getting small children into dresses made for baby dolls.
Late. Yes, you should wear matching shoes. And no, your Spiderman tattoo is not an appropriate accessory for your face.
Or your teddy bear’s.
Why didn’t he help with the kids?
How could we leave the house in this state?
Load up in the car. Leave. Turn around and plug in the crock-pot. The kids were hoping for a last-minute pizza compromise.
Arrive late. Check-in lines. Greeting lines. Missed the first song.
Unprepared. Heart is heavy.
Turn forward. Tune in. Tune out.
Don’t forget to smile.
Consume. Digest. Indigestion.
Promise to do better. Tomorrow. Next week. Next year.
Collect the kids. What happened to your socks?
Return home. Forgot to put the roast in the crock-pot.
What if the sabbath truly became a day of rest? A day of restoration. What if the sabbath became what it was meant to be? Holy. Special. Set apart. Wouldn’t we honor it more, like we’ve been instructed to? Wouldn’t we want to keep it special, like we’ve been told?
What if the sabbath day looked less like attending and more like living? Could it be more about family and less about segregation? Are there ways to embrace the sabbath rest and incorporate living fully as a body- one which builds up the other parts whenever they come together? Or are we too content to make some people’s sabbath a day of extra work so that others don’t need to lift a finger?
Does the sabbath need to look like a performance? A production? Or a presentation? Or could the sabbath simply be friendship, discipleship, unity, love, and mission all coming together in mutual submission?
I long for a sabbath that looks a lot more like Jesus and a lot less like stress.
“Yes, my soul, find rest in God; my hope comes from him.” – Psalm 62.5