It’s such an awesome feeling to come up to the Sabbath and simply . . . stop. After working my tail off all week long, I almost don’t know how to quit achieving, but you’ve told me I must. What a beautiful discipline that is.
Thank you, Father, for the loving strength in your command. Like a wise coach who says to his swimming protégé, “Out of the pool, son. Right now.” On my own, I’m prideful enough and ambitious enough and insecure enough that without you giving me a divine order, I’d keep right on blindly rat-racing right through every weekend.
It’s wonderful how your day of rest simply comes to me in the form of a gentle sunset. I don’t have to travel anywhere to find it, or qualify to experience it. If I’m here at home in my own backyard, or touring the farthest corner of Asia, the Sabbath just twinkles its starry way toward where I am waiting. I wish the entire planet was watching for it – and maybe someday it will be that way in your eternal kingdom.
But for this current life marked by urgent fatigue, thank you, Lord, for Sabbath rest.
David B. Smith Books 