Poor Cub has been throwing up, Lydia, who just had an epic diaper change, is climbing all over my lap, and Naomi is running around the house singing a song she made up about unicorns who go to work with Dadda.
Coincidentally, this post is about rest. Ha! And I preface it with that information only to warn you that it will most likely consist of haphazard stream-of-consciousness bursts (what's new?) rather than one long cohesive thought. It's how we roll these days!
I've mentioned before that it is difficult for me to rest at home. I love my home and find it to be a comforting, familiar place. But, it is also where I spend the vast majority of my days, and I have a hard time resting in it if I know that there are things that need to be done.
Which is always.
There is always a room to be vacuumed, a load of laundry waiting, dishes to be done, bills to be addressed, closets to be cleaned, etc., not to mention our little birds three who require their fair share of attention. But I found that I was beginning to feel restless (pun intended). It's as though my soul longed for a pause, a moment of reflection, but my body and mind just kept plowing ahead. While my checklist was continually accomplished, my heart was longing for reprieve. After absorbing the input of friends (and readers!) from my previous post regarding Sabbath rest, I decided it was time to put rest in action.
Taking a cue from Jen Hatmaker's book, Seven, I decided the time-frame for my Sabbath rest would be from sundown on Saturday to sundown on Sunday. That way, I would still have time on Sunday night to get ready for Monday, and I would also more easily enjoy my Saturday nights, too.
So far, y'all, so good.
My original plan included me rushing around on Saturdays, getting things done that I was afraid I would worry about on Sunday, to keep ... me ... from ... worrying. However, all it takes is one busy Saturday to put the kibosh on that plan, so I've had to throw my hands in the air and say that whatever state the house is in on Saturday at sundown, it will stay until Sunday at sundown. I mean, we pick up toys here and there, but, truthfully, that's about it. Dishes hang out in the sink and laundry stays put in the hamper.
And by golly, do you know what? Despite 24 hours of pause, it all gets done. Sunday evening, after the kids are in bed, I clean up from the day and I'm always surprised that it's never as big of a mess as I anticipate.
Lesson: It's okay to take a day of rest. It's like God knew what He was talking about when He ordained it. Crazy!
The result is a rested Mom, and, thusly, a rested household.
This past weekend, I made a point to actually usher in the Sabbath. I hope to find some good readings on how to do this (suggestions welcome), but even without textbook formality, the moment was sweet. We gathered at the table before bedtime, before sunset. The kids said what they were thankful for and I explained how God tells us to work hard, but to rest well, too, and that both are equally important. We talked about Creation and God taking a day of rest from His work. If the Creator of the Universe can take a day to rest, so can we.
We lit two candles, and broke bread together. We didn't take communion--I want the kids to understand their sinfulness and subsequent need for salvation before they partake in that--but we did break bread (naan) together. It was relaxed and sweet. The kids loved the candles.
When the bread was eaten and the sun was set, we blew out the candles and sang the Doxology.
Complete with the "almond" at the end.
I know my kids are little. I know we are only standing on the brink of what will inevitably be the busiest season of our lives, as the kids grow and join sports/dance/etc. But in my heart I want to keep this day as sacred as possible, to honor the rest God intends for us. And to keep it as a family.
If you made it to the end of this post, blessings to you. Happy Monday.
Have a lovely day, friends!