For some of us, Sundays are not a day of real rest. They are just the one day a week we have to catch up, clean, do laundry and re-arrange our homes, garages and briefcases for the onslaught of the coming weeks work. Of course, we make it to church, but our day is really crammed full before it even begins. And our minds and thoughts are often torn between worshiping God and checking off our to-do lists in an anxious exercise of keeping track of all the untrackables in our lives. Sunday has for many of us become a day to review, re-arrange and revisit the things we really can’t control anyway.
Before I continue, I am as guilty (or more) of this than anyone. God is stirring in me a desire to learn what it really means to “REST” in Him. To cease from striving, from solving, from working out a situation in my mind until its desired outcome is assured. To stop my relentless need to assess, analyze and understand my life and my problems and then to resolve them quickly and logically on my own. It’s only when I fail to find a solution, or see a potential relief from the pressure of the crisis I’m in, that I stop and ask for help.
Why? Simply put, I still am guilty of compartmentalized faith and my relationship with Jesus gets crammed into a box that fits pretty well on Sunday mornings, and I can pull that box out for use on those days of extra heavy stress or fatigue. But, the rest of the week, my go-to guy is still me. My internal understanding of how completely God wants to release me of my pressures, my planning and my control is still quite undeveloped.
So, I strive. I wrestle and creatively problem solve my way through my days and Sunday afternoons when God has commanded me to stop, rest and release my burdens and my need for closure to Him. It’s not a suggestion, it’s a commandment --not to the extent of making the Sabbath another legalistic ritual without meaning or purpose. But, to the extent that I can leave my guilt behind me when I simply stop working and enjoy my family and friendships for a day...to actually intentionally slow down long enough to really reflect on the goodness and provision of my God who has safely carried me, us, this far in life, without fail...to enjoy and expect the promise of divine protection and provision and renewed perspective for yet another week as it stretches out ahead.
That’s what Sundays were meant to be, if only I could slow myself down long enough to remember that. Oops, no…what I mean is, when I slow myself down long enough.
