Don’t flay the sheep.

Forced Sabbath

Friday is my day off, but when Thursday heated up to a fever pitch (sermon not done; crisis with the wreath forms for the Advent wreath brunch; a list of ten other things that had to get done), I was prepared to break the rules and head into work.

And then it snowed. But I was still going to bundle up the baby and go to work for a few hours. I had to–my sermon was at church, I needed to talk to the other associate pastor, there were people to call and plans to make…

This morning, I cleaned. At 2:30, Erik dug out our car and Zora and I headed to church. But no one else was there. And the snow was piled high on the sidewalks.

So I drove home, curled up to read a few books to Zora, and then she went to sleep.

I crawled into bed with a bowl of popcorn (with extra butter and a little chili powder) and a glass of chocolate milk and a good novel. Zora slept and slept. And I forgot about the sermon and the advent wreaths and the leaks in our roof and the confirmation class lesson plan for Sunday.

I’ve been beating myself up because I’m not Sabbathing well. If only I could put in more effort, work more efficiently during the week, and get myself into a better spiritual mindset, if only I could do those things…

And what I really needed was a reminder that the God who sends snowstorms also sends Sabbath.

Amen.

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