Sabbath 3

Well now, that Mexico trip sure is something

For eight long days, early mornings to late nights, we traveled and camped, worked and sang, ate rice and beans and lived communally. We shared a memorable and almost indescribable experience while fourteen teams composed mostly of teenagers built homes for families who had lost their homes to a fire last fall.

It was energizing and exhausting.

I came across a new-to-me word the day after we returned: quanked. It means, “to be overpowered by fatigue.” Oh, yes, I’ve been feeling quanked. A week later and I’m still not sure I’ve recovered.

I imagine I’ll continue to process what we lived and learned for some time to come, but life doesn’t stop just because we’ve been traveling. While it would have been nice to sleep for a week, we had to restock the fridge, unpack and do all the laundry, parent our kids and, of course, work.

So, yesterday was Sunday and I had so much still to do. Instead, I made an intentional decision to Sabbath. I taught my 4 year old Sunday school class (cute chaos). I read a book for fun, then napped. I read my Bible and wrote in my gratitude journal. I made a nourishing pot of soup to share with my family and we enjoyed some TV time together (Buddy vs. Duff, dueling cake makers on Food Network, and Game of Thrones; Guy and I are on Season 1, racing to watch the whole series now that the final season has begun).

To be honest, it felt both refreshing and a little boring. It might have been easier to keep going business as usual. But the world kept turning and didn’t miss me.

Sabbath: The Power of Rest
Matthew 12:1-14

Connect
Share about a good deed someone did for you recently.

Study
Read Matthew 12:1-14
Name all the examples, real and conjecture, of Sabbath law breaking that Jesus exonerates. What do they have in common?
Explain the connection between “mercy, not sacrifice” and the Sabbath.
How might the Pharisees, rather than the disciples, be the ones in danger of breaking Sabbath law?
What does Jesus say and demonstrate about what is and isn’t appropriate on the Sabbath?

Live
Did you take any steps toward implementing a Sabbath practice this week? If so, how did it go?
How do you decide what is and is not permissible for you on the Sabbath?
Why is it important to respect others’ interpretation of what Sabbath rest looks like?
What might it look like to spend Sabbath extending mercy and goodness to others?
How might a Sabbath practice itself be an opportunity for God to provide healing in your life?
What is God saying to you through this passage, and what will you do about it?

Pray
Ask God to fill you with mercy and goodness.

Family Share
Use these questions to reflect on Matthew 12:9-13 individually and with your family.
What are some good things you can do for others?
How can taking a Sabbath day of rest be a good thing God wants to do for you?
Ask God to help you do good things for others.

Sabbath 2

You find what you look for.

I’ve been thinking about Sabbath, so of course I’ve found it even when I haven’t been actively looking. Try these unintentional definitions:

Stop doing and just be here.

“This is the day that the Lord has made. You can rejoice and be glad in it. You can have fun and laugh and be peaceful about your to-do list because God is in control, and you can have total peace in Him.” Annie F. Downs, 100 Days to Brave p.162

Recently, while perusing a book about loving your neighbor, I came across this paradigm:

Put first things first.
Hack off the unnecessary.
Be interruptible.

Those three points have hung on to my imagination.

My first things first: God, family, friends, work, rest/play. So how can I not observe Sabbath if a) it’s God’s command, and He wants to spend time with me; and b) rest/play is already a priority, one that I don’t make enough time for regularly? Leaving my work email off, letting the house be less than pristine, long dog walks rather than our usual quick route, reading all the books, choosing activities that feel life-giving rather than draining–all good!

Hack off the unnecessary: The author wrote about Michelangelo carving the David and famously saying that he “simply” carved away everything that wasn’t his masterpiece. If my life is my masterpiece, my gift devoted to God, then what do I need to carve away to reveal its beauty? One example: I added a time-tracker to my iPhone. Last week it alerted me that my usage was significantly down, but still at over an hour/day. Yikes! What else might I have done with those wasted hours? Today it alerted me that my usage was down to a much more reasonable less than 15 minutes/day (still too high?).

Be interruptible: I shouldn’t be so busy that the task at hand takes precedent over something else–or someone else–God wants me to see. Sabbath is an interruption of sorts to my regularly-scheduled week, one which prioritizes God. I can choose to see human interruptions at any moment during the week as gifts from God.

Sabbath: The Power of Rest
Deuteronomy 5:12-15

Connect
What do you enjoy about your work?

Study
Read aloud Deuteronomy 5:12-15.
Why are we commanded to remember the Sabbath?
How would it help the Israelites to remember their deliverance from slavery? In other words, what is the connection between work, slavery and rest?
How are we to keep the Sabbath holy?
How does the Israelites’ Sabbath benefit others?

Live
Did you take any steps toward implementing a Sabbath practice this week? If so, how did it go?
How do you define “work”?
Is it possible for you to get all your work done in six days? If not, why should you still observe Sabbath?
How does society define “rest” and how might that be different from “a Sabbath to the Lord”?
How might Sabbath benefit your relationships with others?
What mighty acts of God would it help you to remember?
What is God saying to you through this passage, and what will you do about it?

Pray
Remember the ways in which God has delivered you, then ask your mighty God to help you keep Sabbath.

Family Share Questions
Use these questions to reflect on Deuteronomy 5:12-15 individually and with your family.
What does “work” look like in your life?
What can you do to get your work done in six days?
Ask God to help you experience true rest for one day each week.

Sabbath 1

As we enter Lent, the season in the Church calendar in which we focus on Jesus Christ’s sacrifice for love of us, we begin a wild and wandering conversation about Sabbath.

What does Sabbath mean to you?

Sabbath, #4 of the 10 Commandments, seems to be the one the Church feels free to omit. To our detriment. We have bought in to our non-stop culture and left God and our all-around health (spiritual, emotional, and physical) as sad and shrinking images in the rear-view mirror. In love, God takes us where we’re at, and our lives make do, but to be sure it’s not God’s best for our lives.

In the Bible, God says both to “remember” and “observe” the Sabbath. Lauren Winner (in her oh-so-helpful book, Mudhouse Sabbath) explains that for a few days we remember the last Sabbath, and for a few days we prepare for the next Sabbath. Sabbath becomes the guiding light in our conception of time.

It’s also about trust. Do I trust that the world depends on God, or do I act as if I believe the universe requires every ounce of my energy every minute of every day to keep spinning? Oh my, do I ever want to believe that the universe rests in God’s hands and not mine! But do I live into that truth?

I believe that Sabbath-keeping is good, as God ended each day of His creation of the world by declaring it “good.” When God was done with six days of creation, He rested. He modeled for us that, even though God–the all-powerful spiritual Being that He is–could not possibly have needed physical rest, He still took a restorative day-long break.

Obvious fact, and one I’ve missed for way too long: God created humans on Day #6. On Day #7, both God and His people rested.

What could it have meant to those first humans, that their first day on this pristine planet involved rest?

I think of my babies. Birthing, post-Eden, is laborious. Mama and Baby (and Dad, because he was all in) needed post-partum rest. For more than just a day, our world was reduced to basic survival: sleep, eat, snuggle…eat, sleep and snuggle some more.

Adam and Eve didn’t experience that birthing trauma, and they still got to rest. And enjoy companionship with God right off the bat. Hmm, jealous!

I don’t know what Sabbath looks like for you. I don’t even know what it looks like for me! Currently, my husband works way too many hours as a pastor. I work two part-time jobs for a wonky schedule. And we parent two teen/young adults. Not for the first time, Guy and I have begun conversations about what Sabbath could look like, for us as individuals, a couple, and a family. We believe God has good things in store as we ask the questions and begin taking steps toward a Sabbath practice.

Sabbath: The Power of Rest
Genesis 2:1-3 & Exodus 20:8-11

Connect
Reflect on one of your favorite leisure activities.

Study
Read Genesis 2:1-3
Why did God rest?
What did God do on the seventh day?
What does this passage tell us about God?
Read aloud Exodus 20:8-11
How are we to keep the Sabbath holy?
Why are we commanded to remember the Sabbath?
How does God’s work differ from ours, and what does that tell us about work and rest?

Live
God created humans on Day 6, then rested on Day 7. What do you think it meant to Adam and Eve that their very first day was one of rest?
What has been your experience with Sabbath-keeping?
Why does Sabbath seem to be the one of the 10 Commandments that the Church forgets?
What makes Sabbath-keeping difficult?
What might Sabbath look like in your life?
What would it take to implement a Sabbath practice?
What is God saying to you through this study, and what will you do about it?

Pray
Ask God to help you take steps toward implementing a Sabbath practice.

Family Share
Use these questions to reflect on Exodus 20:8-10 with your family.
If you had a whole day to do anything, what would you do and why?
What could you do to help your family get work done in six days so you could enjoy a day off together?
Ask God to help your family take a day off work.

Power Down & Play

“Wow, you really need to get away!” said Co-worker as she realized I had missed something squarely in my easy-peasy realm of responsibility.

I worked frenetically up until fifteen minutes before our car drove away. While I did pull out my phone a few times on the drive, I also made a concerted effort not to talk work with Guy–not to plan, discuss, vent. I put work on a back shelf with fun straight ahead.

About fifteen minutes before we arrived, we lost cell reception. On a different carrier, the friends we were with had reception and those who might need to knew how to reach them. I tucked my phone in my purse and didn’t reach for it again until we headed home. It took the whole homeward drive and then some to power back up.

I’d forgotten how blissful it feels to be completely untethered. 48 hours without calls, texts, email, or media.

Without distraction we talked and talked until the clock announced a new day. We relished the beauty of a frozen lake, of snow flakes melting on our cheeks, of a bald eagle flying overhead. We threw snowballs to a dog happy to catch them in her mouth. We drank thick, sweet hot chocolate and nibbled our way from one snack to another. We read and shared stories. We laughed through old movies. We lit candles and donned headlamps when the power went out. We played games, we learned new games, and we discovered who’s good at what kind of thinking. We slipped into satisfying naps and slept deeply through the night.pinecrest-grp

We woke late. We hiked, and sank, in deep snow. We squeaked in laughter each time a foot broke through ice and we landed on our knees (at least I did!). We enjoyed time together, and we enjoyed every minute.

Before we left home I didn’t know, couldn’t recognize, how much I needed this get-away. In the humdrum of everyday life, we forget that our bodies and souls need to play. We need rest daily–sleep, and a little something fun, like exercise or reading or creativity of whatever sort refuels us. We also need rest seasonally–a quick get-away, like the one we enjoyed this weekend, or something longer, a true vacation.

If we can’t get away, then we at least need to unplug. And when we do get away, we definitely ought to unplug. Funny, isn’t it?, that machines need to plug in for power while human beings find restoration by unplugging from the very devices we expect to make our lives easier.pinecrest

Thankful Thursday – Kickin’ the Door Shut & a Happy Dance!

school's_out_for-53737

By 12:20pm tomorrow, both our boys will be done with this school year.

Hallelujah!

This has been a particularly rough year for a variety of reasons. Junior year for Teen, filled to the brim with cultural stress even when our immediate little family wasn’t topped to our own stress limit. Unfortunately for all of us, his school counselor didn’t take time to look up at the student sitting before her when she advised he take certain classes (he shouldn’t have taken) and absolutely wouldn’t allow others (completely in his wheelhouse). All year long we have been paying for the mistake of not standing up to a school administrator while there was time. What a painful lesson we have learned…

Sixth grade for Tween, which means we now have one year of middle school under our belts. You’d think “experienced parents” might have this down but different kids transition differently, which makes for a different experience all ’round. We used to say that Teen leaped through 6th grade like a series of belly flops–fun in the air, painful on impact, everyone gets splashed. Tween has been way less adventurous and more consistently bewildered by the new demands on his life. A’s for effort, though, as this kid has been diligent in his hard work, sometimes doing two to six hours of homework per night (yes, WAY too much, and darn that slow processing!)…and then forgetting to turn it all in, or losing it (in his backpack) for weeks. Sigh.

But tonight I am truly grateful. Grateful we are done, mostly. I have been ready to kick the door shut on this year for, oh honestly, months. At least weeks. And yet I am also grateful for the free and fantastic education in our competitive small town. Grateful for the collateral lessons of organization, communication, self-advocacy, assertiveness, creativity, persistence, and more.

I am grateful for my children, these beautiful, amazing, creative gifts from God, each their very own unique human being. And I am grateful that for the next ten weeks we will not argue about homework. I will not have to wake them earlier than their bodies want to rush them out the door. I will not have to hurry them off to bed to get enough rest for the big day, big test/project, the next day’s measurement of their (supposed) worth.

I am grateful for summer and its lazy days slower pace. I am grateful for the adventures that await us individually and as a family–trips to San Diego and Mexico, Oregon and Monterey/Carmel as a family; Boy Scout camp for both boys; high adventure risk-taking for the Eagle Scout-Teen.

I am grateful for summer’s organic learning. Books to read just for fun. Scout badges that will precipitate new experiences and open their minds to new discoveries. Time to hike and climb and explore…just because.

I am grateful for a season of rest. I am grateful for friends we enjoy all year long, friends who have done this year with us, and who will now stretch out into this rest with us. For field trips and day trips ahead. For bowling and roller coasters and movies and beach days and swimming. For glasses of wine and laughter. For concerts and picnics in the park. For worship with our church family.

I am grateful, and so I have been doing my own crazy happy dance all day. Psalm 149:3 says, “Praise his name with dancing…” God has held us close during this chaotic year. He has gotten us through, and He has provided rest just ahead. Want to happy dance this joy with me?

Checking In

Do you know what it is to feel the light of love inside you?
And all the darkness falls away
If you feel the way I feel then I believe we have the answer
I’ve been searching for tonight
–Dave Matthews, “Shake Me Like a Monkey”

Mendo

He took me to the coast, this Guy who knows and loves me well.

Teen and Tween are at Scout camp this week. Both kids, same camp, all week long – miss them but, woo hoo!

Guy didn’t need to book a Mendocino ocean-front B&B. We could have enjoyed our very own quiet house. We could’ve made happy progress on cleaning out the garage or finally sprucing up the backyard (seriously, we’re stoked on these projects). We could have made dinner together and rented a DVD, or gone out to dinner and a movie sans kid-consideration.

But he knows that the sun-streaked blue-and-tan view of ocean-meets-sand, the salty-musky beach smell, the crash-and-slick of waves, the salt-sticky whip of my hair in sea-breeze and crunch of sand between my toes, they heal my little cracks and fill me up with peace, with joy.

As we dashed out the door I grabbed a new-to-me book: John Gottman’s The Seven Principles for Making Marriage Work. Recommended to me by friends, I’ll say this: if you are married, go right now and order this book! I’d read the first four chapters on my own, but each of the seven principles chapters includes exercises to do/discuss. As Guy drove I peppered him with questions – some we answered about each other (“I think the current stressors in your life are…”) and others we answered for ourselves (“I am most proud of xyz accomplishments in my life”). We talked about childhood and adulthood, life before and after marriage and kids, our worries and joys and hopes. We laughed and reminisced and got serious on things that matter. Talk about checking in with each other, whew, this was Marriage Intensive 101 and, thank-God-hallelujah, 20+ years of marriage and we still pass with beautiful flying colors.

About an hour into the almost four-hour drive, we stopped at Russian River Brewing Co, my brother’s favorite and a place we’d never been. The gal seated next to me at the bar instantly struck up conversation and I’m so glad she did! While we sipped and waited for food, this East Coast darling confessed that she and her husband travel to California at least once a year for their favorite beer. The chatter wound leisurely this way and that, surprising in its ease, and we happily exchanged contact info before we departed.

At last we checked in at the Sandpiper House Inn in Elk, California. Our host Craig pointed us to our room and back out to the beach, where we delightedly drenched ourselves in late afternoon sun. As we walked north to beach end, and then south again, stepping over and around the bull kelp curlicuing the beach, we thought we heard music, maybe horns. Until we spotted a trio of young adults, two men and a woman, who had industriously turned the bull kelp into musical instruments, like shofars calling us to our beach-side Sabbath rest. Later we saw them kelp-jump-roping – Sabbath is also laughter and fun.

seaweed

Dinner: we talked with Craig, scanned the local paper, drove through heritage-town Mendo, and finally landed at The Ravens, a vegan restaurant at The Stanford Inn (no kidding, spooky-populated with a conspiracy of ravens as we drove in). If you like veggie/vegan food, this restaurant is for you. If you think you don’t, won’t, never will like veggie/vegan food, this restaurant is a MUST! Oh. My. Word! The ceviche might be the most surprising bite we’ve ever eaten – so tangy-tequila tasty, crafted from cauliflower and mushrooms instead of seafood. And the warm bread served with cauliflower-basil-cilantro “butter” – mouth watering. This will go down in our history as a milestone meal.

I awoke early to glorious light, sun-on-water on the Most Amazing View reflecting on pale-blue-turned-bright-white wallpaper. Guy slept in. He never sleeps in, a testament to restorative sea air, a comfortable bed, and his need to unwind. I soaked in the view. Gradually the fog crawled its way across the water, dampened the light, and I got up.

Early coffee service and, wouldn’t you know it?, the Inn had one of our very own 20+-years-of-marriage china tea cups which I filled chock-to-the-brim with hot, black coffee. We walked down to the cliffs, pausing to pet the twin Tabby rescue cats (one of which was hell-bent on guarding a gopher hole), admiring hummingbirds buzzing amidst garden along the path. Craig made a crazy-good breakfast of French toast with blueberries, accompanied by classic 70’s rock. We chatted with another Bay Area couple as we watched Turkey Vultures soaring over the cliffs. Did you know that, unlike most birds, Turkey Vultures have a keen sense of smell and can smell fresh carrion up to a mile away? Google over breakfast – sometimes a good thing.

As for me, I put away my phone. I didn’t check email or social media for two days; I even resisted the temptation to review iPhone pictures lest I feel “the need” to post immediately. I’ve realized that, half-over, I’m not as relaxed as I’d hoped to be this summer. I’ve cut back my at-work schedule but frittered away too much in-between time on social media and nonsense instead of intention. I want to be Present, capital P on Purpose. Last summer in Costa Rica, new culture + shock, we had little choice but to live purposefully hour-to-hour, day-to-day. This summer, at-home-“usual,” it’s easy to let moments slip, let days slide into nothing-done, nothing-gained.

Sometimes a surprise is the *shock* one needs to reflect, remember, restore.

We hiked along foggy Point Arena, so mist-covered we couldn’t see the newly-named National Monument lighthouse and closest California point to Hawaii. Lanky golden grass shivered in the sea breeze, as did we. We drove north to Fort Bragg and dug deep in a festival of sea glass. We grabbed a quick sandwich lunch and headed home, our only regret that our getaway ended too soon.

seaglassWe could have stayed home. Instead we created memories. Guy made the better choice, and we are better for it. Thank you, my love!

Slow Down

An ordinary afternoon dog-walk around the neighborhood turned gruesome. A car passed just as I noticed a squirrel hunkered in the middle of the lane. Car 1 slowed down, paused until two cars were directly opposite in the other lane, and then blared its horn. Horn terrified Squirrel who leaped sideways under the tire of Car 2, followed by the wheels of Car 3. No kidding, I squeaked in horror.

All three cars drove on, while Dog and I had to continue our walk past twitching, then dead-still, squirrel. Because God loves all His creatures, I prayed for this little one.

I felt dirty, complicit for having witnessed this scene. It happened so quickly but it seemed Car 1 deliberately honked at exactly the wrong moment, that it could have honked earlier or later, or simply stopped for a moment. That the rush of life was just too much.

Last summer I read a book that referenced “the Gronk,” the driver behind you who honks incessantly the very second the red light turns green. Like the extra five seconds he might rush you to the gas pedal mean that much? Seriously, dude, chill!

A few days later Guy and I took Dog for another stroll. Same neighborhood, different street, equally gruesome: the smallest fawn I’ve ever seen lay in the roadside grass. At first we didn’t notice it as it was so out of place; someone driving too fast must have hit it hard to launch it out of the road and over the sidewalk; and then we saw it twitch. Morning commute had it out for this beauty.

All this during the first week of summer, and meanwhile my kids’ friends were too busy or too tired to play and their moms already seemed harried. Don’t get me wrong, we have a few things going on, too, but balanced with a big dose of summertime do-nothing. Because “Boredom = Opportunity.”

Summer is not a sprint. Honestly, it’s a gift, much like the Sabbath we so dutifully ignore. Long, hot days make our bodies and brains want to move slower, to float in the pool, to sip cool drinks over laughter-filled chats with friends, to play and rest – and work as necessary – in a different rhythm.

We slowed down with a week of family vacation. Leisurely strolls along the beach, hunting for beach glass, reading good books, eating and sleeping as much as needed and then a little more.

“Regular” life necessarily isn’t vacation, but we can bring elements of vacation, of rest, into “regular” life:
Turn off social media
Do something that stretches you beyond your comfort zone
Move your body playfully
Learn something new
Make dinner a family carpet picnic of kid-friendly finger foods
Schedule outings with friends
Create something; if that intimidates you, color in a coloring book
Turn off the TV and read a book
Play a board game
Pamper yourself
Do something you haven’t done since childhood and laugh yourself silly along the way

Yesterday I worked, and then I met a friend and her sweet daughter for a mani/pedi. I usually do my own nails, but after a week of beach walking my feet were a wreck. It felt terrific, and the time with these dear ones filled me up. During a brief conversational lull I glanced up at the large screen TV – mercifully playing without sound – to catch a glimpse of a road sign that read:

LIFE IS PRECIOUS
SLOW DOWN

Yes, that’s it! Perhaps we don’t even see the carnage we create as we race from Point A to B to Z, the lost life or lost opportunities or the children for whom we’ve scheduled too many activities when they truly only want more time with us, their parents.

What would it take for you to slow down? What can you do today, tomorrow, this week, this month, to intentionally stop the madness? Life is precious, and I don’t want to miss the beauty.

slowing-down-gift