Otherwise known as “The Sabbath.”  From 10 Commandments fame.  I’ve always prided (prode?) myself on being a Sabbath-keeper.  Upon further reflection, I’m horrid at it.

Let’s be honest – the Sabbath is Saturday.  The whole don’t-travel-more-than-1/2-a-mile thing?  I traveled 11 this past Saturday.  And that was on my feet.  We won’t discuss how many miles I rode in a car.

We console ourselves with the idea of a Sunday Sabbath.  After all, it was good enough for the early church leaders, it can be good enough for us.  Only I drive 30 minutes to church, only to work the sound board for the entire service.  I drive 30 minutes home (sometimes stopping for groceries to avoid the tourist get-the-heck-out-of-dodge-i-mean-town traffic), put away groceries, fix lunch, {sometimes} take a nap, only to turn around and drive 30 minutes back to church to work the sound board again.

Doesn’t sound very restful, does it? Cause its not.

Sabbath isn’t one of those random rules that doesn’t make sense. (Anyone got that “don’t wear blended fibers one figured out yet?)  Rest is something our bodies need.  If we don’t rest as we ought, often times we get sick – forcing us to slow down.

What did I do on my sick day a few weeks ago?  Laundry.  My closet/dresser/under-the-bed-storage is overflowing, yet I think I can’t go a day without laundry?  I’ll survive.  Promise.

We’re gearing up for a big event at work (a month away) making my life even more hectic.  Add to that the half marathon I’m running at the end of October and both my work AND play dance cards are full.  I’m exhausted.  So I decided to take a day off work before work got to crazy to allow for it.  After all, thanks to my work-a-holic hubsand I have over 90 hours vacation time just sitting there.

Today is that day off.  A make-shift Sabbath.

Only I’ve already loaded the dishwasher, put a load of laundry in, prepared dinner in the crockpot, and I’m planning to hike later in the day.


What have I done right?  Went to bed late last night after 2 glasses of wine. I slept in (8:30 – a full 2 hours more than most work days).  I finished a book.  Contemplated several verse of the book of Acts.  And now I’m sitting here, computer in my lap, looking out the window at the beautiful neighborhood I have been blessed to call home (thanks work-a-holic hubby!) for the past 3 years.

Its a rainy day, so I’m snuggled under my thick B-Cubed (the Boyds Bear Blankie my mother-in-law no-sewed for me a couple of years ago) listening to the rain pinging off the house.  With my 2nd cup of blackberry cobbler coffee in hand, I’m about to heat the fried apple pie my mother got me at the apple orchard this weekend.

Maybe I’m not such a failure at this after all.