Fighting For The Sabbath
Before the boys, our sabbath looked like lazy drawn out mornings unfolding in coffee refills and hour long quiet times. The hours seeped into each other, morning to afternoon to evening, like waves lapping the shore. If we wanted to ride bikes or spend the afternoon at Trader Joe’s or take a two hour nap after lunch, we were fully liberated to make those decisions and we did so unapologetically.
The sabbath looks a lot different these days. Juggling multiple jobs and two little boys who have no concept or interest in the meaning of rest forces us to be both more intentional and more flexible. We have to fight for this time and space to be life-giving. Otherwise, it could all too easily just become a day where we don’t get any work done but we are no more rested.
For us, fighting for our sabbath means starting with a clean slate. On Fridays, I pick up our weekly grocery order, do laundry, and tidy the house in preparation. Before our boys were born we broke challah bread and drank red wine to commemorate the beginning of Shabbat with communion. This is something I would love to pick up again as the boys get a little older. The beauty of the Sabbath is the freedom that comes with it. Jesus tells us that we were not made for the Sabbath but the Sabbath was made for us. We don’t partake out of guilt or obligation but because we trust that the One who wove us together knows the things we need in order to flourish.
We are cyclical creatures, constantly in need of returning to the things that matter most.
Before Matt began teaching high schoolers, we would sabbath on Mondays because the weekends were filled with gigs and Sunday morning worship. I always loved the idea of Mondays being our day of rest because it served as a reminder that we should not give God our leftovers but our first fruits. Now that it is summer and our schedules have opened back up, we’ve continued our Monday tradition—a day I genuinely look forward to each week.
Because the boys are early risers, our sabbath begins the same time as most mornings. Matt is the first one up so he can have his quiet time and drink his coffee in peace. I’ll sleep in a little later than usual and Matt will make the boys a couple of waffles to tide them over. We like to do something special for breakfast to kick off the day. Sometimes that means homemade pumpkin muffins or Mickey Mouse waffles and other times that means walking to the square for donuts.
Worship is arguably the most important part of our Sabbath. But I would be lying if I told you this time is equally anticipated by all the members of the family. While River is quick to join in by running to grab his tiny guitar so he can copy daddy, Cyrus likes to talk through worship, causing my focus to be split. My prayer is that the boys would grow to love this time of communion but it’s never something we want to force on them. On a whim one Monday morning, Matt adjusted the lyrics to Peace Like A River in effort to make worship more engaging for the boys. It goes something like this—
I’ve got peace like a River (repeat x3) in my soul
I’ve got joy like a Cyrus (repeat x3) in my soul
I’ve got love like a mommy
I’ve got faith like a daddy
The rest of the day unfolds naturally. We don’t have any rules, so long as we can all agree. Maybe we will throw a movie on the projector or go out for smoothies. We have to get creative sometimes in finding things that are approved by the entire family. The day rarely ever goes completely as planned, and that’s okay. The most important thing is that we set aside that time to recenter our focus. We are not workhorses designed to go full speed until we burn out. We are cyclical creatures, constantly in need of returning to the things that matter most.
We fight for our Sabbath not out of some legalistic bondage to old covenant laws, but because rest and worship and gratitude don’t always come easy, but they are always always always worth fighting for.
