A letter from my Sabbath Maker
My Sabbath Liturgy
Rest easy, little child,
Even when it’s so very hard.
Let me meet you and mend you,
Because I am the Maker of you.
I know you feel vulnerable, exposed, on a day like today.
I know you bring fears of failing, of flailing — of wasting it away.
But lamb — thats why I gave you today.
To let go of performing and making sense of it all.
Today is for freedom — it isn’t a freefall.
Freedom from more.
Freedom to do or not do.
To be seen and feel entirely free.
This whole week you’ve felt out of breath.
Body trying to keep up with mind, and
Mind trying to keep up with body, and
Your soul tugged between the two.
Oh, little lamb.
I see you.
Let me meet you today.
In your weariness,
In your longings,
In your uncertainties.
It’s not on you to engineer.
Now come, sit with me for a moment.
Close your eyes.
Breathe deeply.
Feel my breath enter your lungs.
Feel me inside of you.
Put your palm to your chest, tap your fingers on your flesh, and know
I am here.
I am here every day, it’s nothing new.
But live today knowing I’m in all, and I’m in you.
When you laugh, I smile.
When the leaves blow in the breeze,
When the wind plays with your hair
I’m dancing on my throne.
And when you still,
I cradle you in my arms.
Why, you might ask, do I draw so near?
Why do I show myself, my face to you?
Daughter — for your delight.
For your heart abandoned,
Your unadulterated worship.
For joy itself.
For you to see me as your Provider.
To soften your grip,
Your vise on your own heart.
And dear child,
I get to work.
Yes, I meet you and mend you but I also remake you.
I replace the heart of stone with a heart of flesh.
I piece back together your fragmented soul,
Your disoriented being.
I cut away the dead and
plant seeds of life.
I created this day not just for you
But for us.
You and me,
Me and you.
King and daughter, together.
So child, little lamb, jar of clay — daughter:
Breathe deeply.
Delight in everything, for I am in everything.
Sit still long enough to feel again.
Feast and fellowship.
Worship with all your being.
Open your hands.
And rest.
