We (DH and I) both woke up at an ungodly hour this morning--spontaneously and with no hope of going back to sleep. So we did what any normal people would do on a Saturday morning. We bundled up and braved the 28 degree morning of our mountain town and went for a walk. It was beautiful and dark and starry-- a marvelous, holy mystery of a morning. We walked around our town--this new home of ours-- just watching the world wake up. We breathed deeply the brisk air, and took the time to notice things that we'd always been too busy to see: Flowers that, despite the cold, were standing tall and proud. A seemingly useless set of stairs that went to nowhere-- except perhaps a delightful cottage that we couldn't see. We talked and daydreamed and watched our dogs smell-- despite the hour, we were more awake than it seemed like we'd been in months. We even stumbled on a geocache, which reminded us how much we've missed doing that.
And I realized this is what I've been missing. We've settled in a new town, a new job and a new house, and we are marvelously in love with all of them, but something has been missing. It's been a madhouse of busyness as we've gotten settled and had company and, and, and... and I've missed having a chance to wander around with eyes open in holy wonder.
I've missed sabbath keeping-- not that I've ever done a stellar job of being a sabbath keeper. But it has always, always been a deep longing of my soul. And that's especially true as I'm now serving a much larger (ie much busier) church, and despite the need for extroverted tendencies, I'm still a solitude loving introvert. On a whim, I picked up MaryAnn McKibben Dana's Sabbath in the Suburbs, and have been savoring it one delicious bite at a time. Perhaps I love it so much because she struggles with creating a sabbath practice as much as any busy person, and unlike many of the other books on the subject seem to, her practice of sabbath does not take place in a vaccuum. She has three small children and serves as a pastor, and the world refuses to slow down for her. Yet, she creates a real sabbath practice, at turns by doing things "sabbathly" or by having sabbath moments when the world won't stop long enough to have a whole day of sabbath.
Today will be at least partly a work day for me-- a day of catching up from two days of sickness. But before any of that, there was a thin place of reawakening holy wonder. Before the world woke up, there was sabbath-- a chance to be fully presesnt with those I love in a place I love. As I sit working by the fire, my day is different. I am different.
Turns out there was nothing "ungodly" about the hour...
