Snowy Sabbath

I like church. Really, I do. Please hear that. I like joining together with my community of believers and worshipping with the choir, praise team, and wider congregation. As messed up as the church can be, I like doing more through the church than I can do alone. I like church. I believe in the church. But I declare that sometimes it’s nice to have a day off from church.

I accidently woke up early yesterday. I think my body thought it was a school day. I saw that it was snowing outside but I left my alarm set for church and went back to sleep. A little while later, I woke up to the sound of the phone ringing and then to pots and pans being put up. In a state of semi-consciousness, I listened to the sounds of the kitchen and mused about how productive my parents were being so early in the morning. Then I looked at the clock. It was 9:15. My parents should have been leaving for church. At that point I literally said aloud, “Something is weird here.”

On the next multiple of five (I only get up on multiples of 5), I popped out of bed and went downstairs. When I saw my dad in his pajamas, I knew: Church had been cancelled. I asked anyway: “Was church cancelled?!” When he said yes, I cheered. I literally cheered. I clapped. I jumped up and down. Then I ran into my parents’ bedroom where my mom was working at her computer and I hugged her. As I squeezed her and rejoiced, she said, “You’re not supposed to be this happy about missing church.” Then she smiled at my excitement. Then I ran back into the kitchen, arms fully extended for a hug, and threw my arms around my dad and said, “Thank you so much” (although I knew that the decision was not completely his). Then I jumped up and down and clapped some more. Then I cried.

I was so happy and relieved to have a day off that I couldn’t hold back the tears. Then I volunteered to cook breakfast so that mom and dad could prepare for their visit to see my grandmother.

Last week was extremely busy. Six days of early mornings and very late nights with no down time in between takes its toll on an almost-40-year-old. This week will be mostly the same, just without the stress of preparing for Harnett Off-Broadway. Yesterday was supposed to be another work day. But with the blessing of the snow, the day ended up being a day off. It was rest for the weary. It was true Sabbath. And it happened because I didn’t have to go to church.

Swirly, dancing white
Calm silence nourishing souls
Peaceful rest, Sabbath

I like church. Really, I do. Please hear that. But I declare that sometimes it’s nice to have a day off.

God, thanks for a day off yesterday. Amen.

No Paddle Day

I’ve never been canoeing--
Much less canoeing on a ten day river trip through two states.
But I have a friend who is doing just that--
With a group of teenage girls from the camp where she works.
They left on the Lumber River in NC last Wednesday and will be extracted at a beach in SC this Saturday.
By Friday, the group had arrived in SC and begun canoeing the Little Pee Dee River.
By Saturday night, the girls were ready to go to bed by 7pm.
Needless to say, they were exhausted.
Because of the exhaustion, but more so because of the theological significance of the day,
Yesterday was a no paddle day.
A day of staying put.
A day of discussing the power of life, death, and resurrection.
A day of exploring the beauty of creation.
A day of rest.

I don’t need to say that we live in a busy world.
Just waking up each day is to experience a fast-paced, motion- and noise-filled world.
I don’t need to say that there is always more to do.
Just making a to-do list on which you need to add a to-done category just to feel accomplished is to experience the never-ending list of tasks to do.
I don’t need to say that people are tired.
Just looking at the dark circles under eyes and the sleep aids the fill pharmacy aisles is to witness America’s need for sleep.

And yet…
I rarely hear of people taking a no paddle day.
A day of staying home.
A day of discussing the power of light, darkness, and redemption.
A day of taking in the beauty of creation.
A day of rest.

Being the orange-fish collector that I am, I have a Finding Nemo saying on my wall:
Just keep swimming.
And while I believe in this little phrase and know that ultimately,
no matter how weary we become from life’s demands,
especially the demands that we have absolutely no interest in but that we must do nonetheless,
We must keep going.
We must keep persevering until we make it to the other side.
This is what life requires.
Nemo knows this.

Yet, my friend and her girls know something, too,
Something that God Godself has known since the very beginning:
Sometimes we must take a day and designate it as a
No paddle day.
A day of being,
A day of discussing the power of joy, grief, and journey.
A day of meditating on the wisdom of creation.
A day of rest.