I wrote this back in November 2014 but never posted it or did anything with it. I just needed to write that day. But, oh, how relevant this topic is once again. So looking forward to a restful day tomorrow. My anxiety has come in like a bulldozer over the past month so today I am so full of hope that Jesus will take me over once again as I reflect on who He is and who He tells me I truly am. With head bowed and empty hands wide open, it was certainly not the first time God had convicted me about how desperately I needed rest. I was at the end of my sufficiency, again. I was overwhelmed, again. Student teaching, graduate school, a part-time job, applying to new jobs, trying to still have a social life; I couldn’t and didn’t want to do it all anymore and I started to doubt that God would ever lead me out of this time where the light at the end of the tunnel barely managed a faint glow. If there’s one thing I thought I believed without fail it’s that God is good and God is faithful, but I started to doubt that He would not delay in lavishing his goodness and faithfulness upon me. Child, you’ve forgotten who you are. It crept in as easily as a passing thought but got stuck, replaying over and over like that nagging song that never truly leaves you. Without paying mind to this interruption, I focused my prayers back to the topic of rest, telling God that I knew I needed a consistent Sabbath day but I needed his help to figure out when I was supposed to be taking it. I certainly could not have a true Sabbath day Monday through Friday. I work on Saturday mornings, so that day was out. The obvious Sunday option was also not preferable because that’s lesson planning and paper writing day. So when, God. This is all just too much.
My necessary time spent with my Heavenly Father ended with me choosing Sunday as my Sabbath day. I told myself that it would have to work. I needed rest. I could not ignore it anymore. Somehow the work I usually do on Sunday would get done on other days. God would honor my choice to have an intentional day of rest and He would lead me in putting all of the other scattered pieces together. The Sabbath is holy. Rest is a holy act. He has shown me His faithfulness in this area of my life before, of course He would show it again. I was still overwhelmed but somehow, a little braver. On my first true Sabbath Sunday, I woke up with a surprisingly peaceful heart. The only thing on my imaginary to-do list was “Enjoy the day!”. After church, I spent the rest of the day with one of my best friends. We ate, talked, and attempted to knit. We shared laughter and frustration (don’t ever trust a video that deceives you into believing that you can arm knit a scarf on your first attempt without it looking like it got stuck in a nine year old’s soccer cleats as she was running across the field). We made new memories and reminisced about old ones. We talked about our hopes and futures. We talked about the new sermon series at our church. I was content. I had my joy back. I felt refreshed. I was confident in and happy with myself again. I was at peace with who I was and where I was in all areas of my life. Child, you’ve forgotten who you are. Of course, I thought. The Sabbath is not only for rest, but for reflection as well. The Sabbath reminds us of who we are and whose we are. How could I have missed it? The Sabbath is a refuge that reorients my heart. I can remember that responsibilities and anxieties that sometimes overwhelm do not change who I am or define who I am. When I start to believe the lies, the Sabbath is a refuge where the Spirit reminds me that I have the power and privilege of rejecting those false labels, in no other name but the name of Jesus.
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Author4th grade teacher. Writer. Justice-seeker. Encourager. CrossFitter. John 11:40. Archives
July 2017
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