The gift of Sabbath

I'm deeply thankful for Sabbath. I see it is a gift, especially of perspective. It challenges our understanding of time, seeing "time not as an enemy to subdue, but as a friend to savor.” (Mary Ann McKibben Dana, Sabbath in the Suburbs). Furthermore, it challenges how we think about ourselves. We are not as important or as invincible as we sometimes think: the world will continue quite fine without our efforts. As much as God can use us to do good, God is certainly able to do good without us. It also challenges whatever guilt we might have picked up in terms of how undeserving we might be of rest:

“Even if you don’t observe Sabbath, a shift in perception is helpful. It doesn’t ever all get done. We need to train our vision. We see failure when we should see alternatives. Better to focus on the good and important things we did do instead of berating ourselves for falling short of an ideal.” McKibben Dana, Sabbath in the Suburbs, 105.

I originally received the gift of Sabbath from my parents and then grew to love it even more as I moved out of the house and continued to be refreshed by a weekly day of Sabbath. While I was Seminary - and even my first years in Amsterdam - it remained a gift but got more complicated, as Sabbath could often be lonely when most everyone I knew was busy with other things. And now, Sabbath has become complicated in a different way - as sometimes I need to work on Sunday and taking care of a little is not always restful (although it does often involve delight when I give myself over simply to being with her - and can share the responsibility with Matthijs). Yet, the gift of Sabbath has not changed, nor has my appreciation for it.

I continue to delight in the gift of Sabbath, yet it also requires discernment to know how best to receive this gift in different places and at different phases in my life. I am currently learning the good in practicing practice Sabbath not only on Sunday, but also in small doses throughout the week. So I've been trying to take time to journal or read a good book or by commuting regularly by bike and using that time to think and pray. Even re-instituting a date night with Matthijs is part of trying to practice Sabbath, as I want to be more intentional in delighting in spending time with him. So is learning to wait patiently for the little, so that I might better delight in her presence in our life.

Some helpful quotes and books to keep pondering Sabbath:

• “What happens when we stop working and controlling nature? When we don’t operate machines or pick flowers? . . . When we cease interfering in the world we are acknowledging that it is God’s world.” Lauren F. Winner, Mudhouse Sabbath, 6-7.
• “Sabbath puts the focus on God and God’s gracious invitation to rest from one’s work.” Mary Ann McKibben Dana, Sabbath in the Suburbs, 22.
• A quote from Sabbath in the Suburbs (89): “It’s not so much how busy you are, but why you are busy. The bee is praised. The mosquito is swatted.” Mary O’Connor.
• A helpful book to read: Dorothy C. Bass, Receiving the Day: Christian Practices for Opening the Gift of Time (2001)

A variation of this is crossposted at the Campus Edge blog (where I blog for work).

Patience and Presence

As I expect is true of most toddlers, our little seems to be inherently good at dawdling. It often feels like one either has to wait a significant amount of time or push and prod before she'll get things done. I find my 'pushing and prodding' self not always the most pleasant person to be around, so I lean towards waiting patiently. After all, it's not like a two-year-old really has that much that she needs to be on time for, so why can't we do things slowly? The challenge, though, is that I find it hard to wait patiently. I find it easy to waste time on my own but find it hard to be patient when it feels like someone else - even if she's being cute about it - is wasting my time.

MaryAnn McKibben Dana in her book, Sabbath in the Suburbs, has challenged me to continue to practice waiting. While there may be days and reasons for me to hurry the little one along, there is something good in saying yes to going at the little's tempo. It helps me see time differently: less as something to be conquered and more as something to be savored. McKibben Dana specifically talks about her own experience of saying yes to her children as part of practicing Sabbath:

"The experience is simultaneously tiring and gratifying. . . But the kids’ joy at being heard and responded to is contagious, and rather than take advantage of our agreeableness, they are more agreeable in return. Once a week we can ‘yes-and’ our children. Rather than be confused by this seeming lack of consistency, they get that Sabbath is a different kind of day with different rules and rhythms. Saying yes on Sabbath means that they accept our no’s on other days more easily. Sabbath also becomes a laboratory for the rest of the week, as we realize that we could probably say yes more than we do.” McKibben-Dana, Sabbath in the Suburbs, 95.

Most of all, I want to learn to wait patiently for the little as a practice of being present with her. Perhaps sometimes this means waiting with a book in hand or writing in my journal, or even tidying up, as a way of taking into account my own inherent desire to be productive, while still being present with her. Other times, it will involve paying more attention to her, delighting in who she is and being more fully available to her. Perhaps ordinary time will involve more of the former and Sabbath will hopefully be more of the latter, but, most of all, I want to practice "showing up and making myself available. . . I seek to be present with my kids, not because every moment will feel holy and blessed but because holy and blessed moments don’t happen unless I am present.” McKibben-Dane, Sabbath in the Suburbs, 39.