Friday, July 8, 2011


Today I read in Matthew where Jesus gets in trouble with the Pharisees for healing on the sabbath.

I love the idea of sabbath. I love the idea of rhythm to our week and rest in honor of the work done during the week and in acknowledging the supremacy of God.

But for a mother, the sabbath can easily look just like any other day.

Like Jesus, we are presented with pressing needs around us every day. We can't say no to scratched knees and teething babies.

I have read about observant Jews that prepare for the sabbath. They cook a day ahead, make sure laundry it all done before sunset and make it a point to create a home that needs as little care as possible. I so admire the dedication to making a space for sabbath in their week.

The closest I have come to sabbath is this time of the day. The boys are having rest time. The house is quiet and my mind is awake enough to read scripture and pray. Its short, not usually more than a half hour, but it gives structure and rhythm to my day. I can come down to land and catch my breath. I can listen for what God is saying and receive strength for the rest of the day.

It is so short a time, I hate to call it sabbath, but it is a resting, quiet space that helps me to be rooted in what is true.

As I leave this space I go to pay bills and make frustrating phone calls with insurance companies and the tightness in my chest indicates that I am leaving this safe place and being launched into the rough of the world.

May the peace I find here sustain me.

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