Sabbath implies ceasing, putting an end to activity.
In simple terms, it means to turn the clock to the wall, shut off the computer, unplug, disconnect, and slip on our red dancing shoes –or soft, fluffy slippers!
It means to walk away from work and allow God to use this weekly pause to reshape our souls.
And if a sabbath is to do its work, only those things that refresh and refurbish should be allowed: sleeping, eating, loving, lounging, reading, strolling, listening to music, visiting, worshiping.
Sabbath rests are sumptuous and savory — deliriously splendid!
They are Mondays in dancing shoes, Tuesdays with a cherry on top, Wednesdays with a back rub, Thursdays with a son, Fridays with a feast, and Saturdays with fireworks! They are three-layered marmalade cakes instead of yesterday’s bagel.
Why, then, do so few of us choose to weave succulent sabbaths into our life? I suppose that, like other directives in Scripture, we can either obey God’s merciful mandate and open the gift– or hand it back and make our own ragged way through life.
How do you accept the gift of the Sabbath?