Take a Rest

When I imagined what it would be like to observe and embrace a year of spiritual rhythms, I pictured it being like floating lazily down a river on an inner tube.

What I did not expect was that, less than two weeks into the experiment, I would slam full force into the brick wall of my own stubbornness.

It seems appropriate that, between MY new year and THE new year, I would visit the idea of Sabbath. This weekly pattern of work and rest copies the rhythm God used when he created the everything. It sounds so peaceful.

Or it sounded peaceful until I started reading what's involved. Keeping in mind that Sabbath is not about rules and laws, but about honoring God, here are some of the guidelines and the reasons behind them.

Principle: God rested from creating on the 7th day. We, too, should rest from creating.

Action: No creating anything. No writing, knitting, sculpting, composing, building. Let your creative side rest.

Resistance: I can't remember a day when I created nothing. Without that outlet, I am restless, fidgety, unproductive. (Ah, there's the rub. By definition, God was unproductive on the 7th day. So why does the very idea of it make me feel guilty?)

Principle: Don't light a fire on the Sabbath. Don't use heat to change something in any way.

Action: No cooking. No boiling water. And no driving since the car uses a spark to start the engine. Oh, and don't turn on any lights.

Resistance: The act of turning on a stove or turning the key in a car seem much less like work than making all the arrangements ahead of time to make sure I don't need to cook anything (apparently a crockpot dinner is okay if I turn it on before sunset on Friday) or drive anywhere.

There are many, many other rules for the Sabbath: No tearing paper towels or toilet paper (pre-tear to avoid this law), no using electricity, no using money, no telephones, no harvesting. All of these are supposed to bring us into closer relationship with God.

I'm not as interested in keeping every minutia and the Mishkan (the set of 39 principles to follow) as I am to explore and experience the sensation of rest. Jesus defined what that meant when he healed on the Sabbath, when he and his disciples picked and ate grain on the Sabbath, when he challenged the purpose of the Sabbath.

Don't expect to hear from me on Saturday this week. I'll let you know how it goes.

Photo via Visualhunt

More Questions Than Answers

As I gaze ahead into the next weeks and months, I find I have more questions than answers. How will a year in the Torah affect me? What will I see that I've never seen before?

I can't possibly learn everything there is to learn, do everything there is to do, or read everything there is to read. That's the power of a yearly rhythm, that each year is a reminder of the years before, and a chance to discover something new. Almost everything this year will be new.

I'm looking forward to being part of a shared consciousness that takes place around the world as millions participate in the largest, longest group Bible study on the planet. For centuries, the Torah has been divided up into segments so that a reading of the scripture happens every week to cover Genesis through Deuteronomy in a year. All around the world, synagogues and certain churches read the text aloud. Jesus was part of this tradition when he stood to read in his home synagogue. (If you're wondering why he read from Isaiah, that came from a second set of texts from other books of the Old Testament which is read after the Torah each week).

Here are a few of the questions I am mulling.

Why does Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year, fall on September 14, but Simchat Torah (the rolling back of the scrolls to the beginning of Genesis) doesn't happen Genesis until October 10?

Which holidays do we know Jesus observed? What did he do on those days? Did he stick to tradition or buck the system?

If God and the son are one, what will I discover about Jesus and I walk through the Torah this year? How will the vengeful God of the Old Testament and the Loving Savior of the New Testament meld into the One they have always been?

Will I find a Friday evening to Friday evening rhythm that feels natural or will I still function Monday to Monday?

Will I discover enough about God, his people, and myself through the year to keep my attention or will I be distracted by new ideas, new projects, and whatever happens to pop up in my path?

I am fully aware that I am stepping into a river of history. Whether I float or drown or get washed back on shore, the river will continue to flow without me.

Photo credit: Marco Bellucci via Visual Hunt / CC BY

Blowing the Shofar

A herald blast ushers in a holy day.

It opens the year of Jubilee.

It awakens the slumbering soul.

Listen carefully.

Hear the shofar trumpet the news of the Lord's victory.

Wait and see what the Lord will do.

Today is my birthday. It may not mean much to anyone else, but it's one of those days in my year when I look back over the past year and look forward to the next. Like a personal New Year's Day, it pauses me long enough to say, "What do I want to do next?"

In a word, plenty.

I am constantly setting goals, marking things off to do lists, and scribbling in new notes of new things to do. I have an ever-growing bucket list, an ever-expanding list of places I want to visit, languages I wish I could learn, books I want to read and write.

This year, one of my "goals" is to listen to the spiritual rhythms of the year as God designed it. From the contemplative beginnings of cleansing and forgiveness to the spring celebrations of deliverance and new life back to another new beginning in the fall, the cycle repeats itself year after year.

The new year starts in the western world on January 1. For the Jews, it begins in the fall.

For me, it starts today.

Photo credit: Government Press Office (GPO) via VisualHunt / CC BY-NC-SA

One Word

140 characters on Twitter.

A random thought on Facebook.

A photo caption on Instagram.

An abbreviated text.

I've learned to communicate in half thoughts. My attention span has shrunk to that of an antsy child. I can binge watch a season of Master Chef, but forget to plan dinner for the night.

I write a novel, or three, or ten, but have I really said anything at all?

There are over 803,000 words in the Bible. But really, there's only one. One Word.

Jesus.

If I miss that one, I miss it all. Clanging cymbals, flapping jaws.

It's time to read that Word over and over. The Word of God. The Word made flesh. Out of the shadows and into a reality bigger than I can conceive.

In the beginning was the Word. And in the garden. And in the rainbow, and in the fire, and in a straw-lined feed trough. And in the end will be the Word.

Anchor of the Soul

Since God hung the sun and the planets in the sky, since he set them spinning with the gentle whisper of his breath, the seasons have ebbed and flowed. Time rolls on, each new year bringing its promise. Winter gives way to summer which turns to winter again.

And in the turning of the calendar, in the clatter and clang of celebrating the end of one year and the beginning of another, a single word resonates, repeating itself in low, steady tones.

Hope.

It speaks of anticipation, of excitement, of calm assurance of better days to come. It tells of nature's praise when God broke into the world as a tiny baby. Its chorus echoes from the mountains as the promise of all history was fulfilled...and is fulfilled again in each of us who hears it.

I expect I will revisit this word again and again in the coming year. I am already looking forward to breaking bread with dear loved ones around the Seder table in April as we remember deliverance. I anticipate the Day of Atonement, the Resurrection, the stories that are written in the Book of Life, but also written on my soul.

My soul has been adrift these past two years, so the image of hope as an anchor for my soul holds me safe, but also puts wings to my faith.

Hope with me in 2014. Anticipate. Expect. Be surprised.

Photo credit: Texas Photo Wrangler via Visualhunt / CC BY-NC-ND

A Season of Thanks, Day 24

Tonight it's all I can do to thank God his mercies are new every morning.

Some days I'm not the person I ought to be.

Some days I see my impatience, my weakness, my shortfalls clearer than anything.

Some days I want to crawl in a hole.

But in the morning I get the chance to start again.

Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning. Great is your faithfulness.

Lamentations 3:22-23

A Season of Thanks, Day 23

I didn't venture far from home today, but my daughter made a 900 mile trek across Arkansas, Oklahoma, Texas and New Mexico in the snow and freezing rain.

Tonight she was safely in her Nana's kitchen making cookies.

Letting your kids grow up is not for cowards.

Tonight I am thankful for traveling mercies for my girl.

Do your best to get here before winter...

2 Timothy 4:21

A Season of Thanks, Day 22

1 container chocolate milk mix

1 jar cremora non-dairy creamer

1 pound bag of powdered sugar

8 quarts of powdered milk

That was Mom's hot chocolate recipe. Only the first time she made it, she bought 8 quarts of powdered milk (what the recipe said) instead of enough powdered milk to make 8 quarts (what the recipe intended). We had very milky hot chocolate mix in ever tupperware, every bowl, every pot in the house.

The weather has turned cold and we're making hot chocolate a la Mom's secret recipe. Only not so much powdered milk.

I thank my God every time I remember you.

Philippians 1:3

A Season of Thanks, Day 21

There's an article in the Huffington Post this week about boring men and the women who live with them. I am lucky enough to be married to a boring man.

I don't have an uber romantic story of how he proposed to me or a chunky diamond ring to remind me.

He didn't hire the paparazzi to snap pictures of the proposal. He didn't scour my pinterest account to throw together the wedding of my dreams as a surprise. He didn't fly in a hundred guests to share in a surprise wedding or arrange for the whole wedding party to sing Lachaim! at our reception.

But here's what he did do.

He sold his camera so I could fly to his hometown to meet his family.

He listened for the growl of our diesel truck in Africa so he could rush out and open the gate for me. Every time.

He rubs my shoulders every time I set myself in front of him.

He played with the kids every evening while I made dinner, bathed them while I did dishes, and read aloud to them before bed.

In 26 years of marriage, I can think of only one time when he said, "It'd be okay if you don't cook that again."

He dug my garden, planted my fig tree, ordered the wood for my new floor. He goes along with most of my crazy ideas. Or if he can't go along, he lets me go without him. He works hard every day. When work was scarce, he's even dug ditches in the freezing rain. He never complains.

He thinks deeply, stays calm, and brings a different perspective to problems that stump me.

And when I see him in a crowd, he still makes my heart flutter.

My beloved is mine and I am his...

Song of Songs 2:16

A Season of Thanks, Day 20

The sun is out!

Whatever seemed difficult or impossible a couple of days ago is easy today.

The sun streaming through the front window was actually to bright to work in this morning, but I didn't care. When it's the sun that blinds me, I am happy to work blind.

Now no one can look at the sun, bright as it is in the skies after the wind has swept them clean.

Job 37:21

A Season of Thanks, Day 19

Fleece-lined slippers.
A flannel shirt.
A fuzzy robe.
Fluffy socks.
A small dog.
A wall heater.
A warm shower.
A cup of tea.
A down comforter.
A cozy hubby.

As the weatherman predicts freezing nights, I am thankful for options for keeping warm.

If two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone?

Ecclesiastes 4:11

A Season of Thanks, Day 18

My critique group

My prayer ladies

My children

My husband

My dad

My brothers

My colleagues

My elders

My neighbors

My imaginary friends

So many people weave in and out of my life. A smile, a nod, a word of encouragement or rebuke. No relationship leaves me unchanged. I search for deeper truth in the eyes of the people around me and they do not disappoint.

As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.

Proverbs 27:17

A Season of Thanks, Day 17

Today I am thankful for Skype.

When we moved overseas, email was a new idea in the states. Direct dial phone service hadn't even come to our town yet. When we finally got telephones, the wires had to be rolled from the post office to our house by the workers. We used the phones Mayberry style for years, calling the operator on duty to patch us through to whoever we needed to call. We got to know the operators' work schedules and would make our calls to the States when Maglo was working since we knew he would actually try to place the call.

Now, with our kids far away at college, we can turn on Skype and have them in the room with us.  We can share conversation and see their faces and it doesn't cost a dime.True, we can't share our brownies, but that's not all bad!

I have much to write to you, but I do not want to use paper and ink. Instead, I hope to visit you and talk with you face to face, so that our joy may be complete.

2 John 2:12

A Season of Thanks, Day 16

A cup of tea and conversation with friends.

A business meeting.
An hour of praying together.
A walk with a friend.
A telephone conversation, a skype talk, a chat via IM.

Words, words, words. Blessed times sharing hearts. I love them all.

And then, beautiful silence. Yesterday I enjoyed 6 hours of silence.

No telephones.
No emails.
No skyping, IM-ing, or even talking to myself (much).

Just silence. It was just a taste, really, of what I'm craving. I yearn for a day, a week, a month of quiet, a chance to be still and let God breathe new life into me.

The Lord will fight for you. You need only to be still.

Exodus 14:14

A Season of Thanks, Day 15

I fan myself as I wait for Tom Robinson's verdict in the balcony of the Maycomb County courthouse.

I stand on the balsa deck of the Kon Tiki and drink in the sight of the first land I have seen in a hundred days.

I stroll through the gardens of Hollingford, dig in the dirt of Misselwaithe Manor, step through the wardrobe into the snow. I share a lifeboat with a tiger. I carry the ring to Mount Doom. I hike the Appalachian Trail, the Pacific Crest Trail, walk across Africa, and climb Mount Everest. I fly to the moon and beyond. I sail to the land of the Wild Things in my bed and go on adventures with my purple crayon. I look out the dormer windows of my room in Avonlea.

I step into worlds like Alice steps into the looking glass. I rediscover adventure whenever I open the pages of one of my favorite books. I lose myself in the story, only to find myself again.

I thank God for words that paint a thousand pictures.

Let the redeemed of the Lord tell their story...

Psalm 107:2

A Season of Thanks, Day 14

After a full week of work and a full day of catching up, all I can say is I am thankful for the possibility of rest, for flannel sheets and feather pillows, and for my comfy warm blanket.

Nighty night.

A Season of Thanks, Day 13

Today I am going to be thankful for home. My own people, my own bed, my own pillow, and all the familiar sights, sounds and smells of home. I have been away for nearly a week and I'm ready to be back in the fold of family.

I am thankful that my 6th grader still loves to come home and tell me everything about her day. I've missed 4 days of school, so I'm sure to get an ear full.

I am thankful that my husband has kept the house running while I've been gone. I'm thankful that he'll be happy I am home.

I am thankful the little dog will remember me and forgive me for leaving her here as soon as she sees me.

I am thankful to be coming back in to cell phone range. The quiet is nice, but it's always good to catch up with what's been going on.

But you, mountains of Israel, will produce branches and fruit for my people Israel, for they will soon come home.

Ezekiel 36:8

A Season of Thanks, Day 12

Here's one that wouldn't have been on my list a few years ago...

I am thankful for social media.

There. I said it. Being able to be in at least casual contact with hundreds of people from all eras of my life is such a blessing.

I can have a chat with a friend from Africa. I can stay in touch with my Japanese high school friend who married a Norwiegian and now lives in Sweden. Instantly. I can look at the pictures my brother took this morning. I can see the smiling faces of my nephews. I can play a game with a friend or ask advice from someone who's got more experience that I do. All in one place.

Who woulda thunk it?

A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity.

Proverbs 17:17

A Season of Thanks, Day 11

Today I am thankful for the wounded warriors. This time I am talking about the men and women who stand up for our freedoms so we can enjoy them. I'm thinking of those who are apart from their families today because they are stationed far away. I'm thinking of those who fought for our freedom in the Revolutionary War, the Civil War, the "War to End All Wars," and the dozen wars after that one.

Today I am thankful for my uncle who stand with his Patriot Rider brothers to protect the families of fallen soldiers in their time of grief. I am thankful for my brother-in-law who has given 18 years of his life so far to serve our country. I am thankful for the officers and firemen and search and rescue workers who risk their own lives for the sake of others...all in a day's work.

God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.

Psalm 46:1

A Season of Thanks, Day 10

I've got itchy feet. Not the kind that anti-fungal powder can fix, but the kind that only a stamp in the passport can remedy. And even that is only temporary. In my dream life, I think I would be traveling about 90% of the time. I would come home for a bit of quiet, a cup of tea and to do some laundry, and then I'd be off again.

As much as I wish I could travel more, today I am thankful for the places I've been, for how the world has stretched me beyond who I would be if I just stayed home. Today I am thankful for the memories I have made in...
Alaska, Washington, Oregon, California, New Mexico, Arkansas, Missouri, and all the other states I have been to...
Canada...
the Caribbean...
France (oh, especially France)...
Togo...
South Africa, Kenya, Uganda, Benin, Burkina Faso, Rwanda, and Ghana...
Venezuela and Brazil...
and all those other places I've passed through.

Where to next? Japan? New Zealand?

Let's go!

Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up in the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.

Psalm 139:7-10