a sabbath rest

by Julie

I'm sitting in Books A Million in Gulf Shores, Alabama. We are on vacation with my parents, and having a wonderful time. My mother has a friend who owns a beach house here and offered to let us use it. What a blessing! It seems those are the only vacations we ever take--those that are free. A friend invites us somewhere, or we go to visit out-of-town family, or as in this case, extended family takes us with them on their vacation. The payscale of a pastor doesn't lend itself to frequent elaborate vacations at sandy beach resorts or tourist hotspots, does it? In fact, because I am a stay-at-home mom, the pastor's pay doesn't lend itself to ANY vacation! But we are blessed to be able to take advantage of the generosity of friends and family.

The unfortunate thing about utilizing such vacation opportunities is that it may not be a "true" vacation, in the sense of getting away. In our case, we are with my parents and my brother's family (who happens to be on the opposite extreme from us politically and doctrinally). But we are also with church members. You see, my parents belong to our local church. Now don't get me wrong--I love having my parents as church members. They help me with the boys during church service (because we PWs are in fact single mothers at church!), and I can always call on them to "volunteer" when no one else will step up to perform some ministry duty. However, for my PH, this kind of vacation is not really a true vacation. He attempts to set boundaries,such as not discussing church matters, doctrinal issues, etc. However, he just can't get away from it entirely. So his way of dealing with it is to play all day riding the waves on boogy boards with our boys.

This reminds me of our "Sabbath" day. As ministers, the day we worship is no day of rest. Our families are going usually from sun up to way past sun down the entire weekend. We are weekend warriors for our churches. So we have to take a "Sabbath rest" some other time during the week. For our family, that day is Thursday. My oldest son is actually the one who instituted it in our home. It is our family night. Each week one person decides what we will do for that night. It may be board games, playing the Wii, renting a movie, going to the park, making cookies, etc. We are not allowed to complain about what was chosen because it will be our turn to choose another week. The time we spend together is precious and uniterrupted by others. We have come to treasure and guard these family nights.

God instituted the Sabbath in the Garden of Eden, before the Fall. He spent six days creating a perfect paradise, and then He rested. He didn't need to rest from working. It wasn't like He worked so hard that He tired Himself out. Instead the Sabbath was a gift to Adam and Eve so that they could enjoy with Him what He had made for them. The Sabbath is a gift to us too. It is a time when we can stop working to enjoy with Him and with our families and friends what God has created and done for US. We all need to have a time to stop "working" and to "rest."

Now, I am by no means saying that as pastoral families we should make our Sabbath another day during the week than the day we worship with our church family. I am truly blessed by the "work" we do on our Sabbath day. However, we MUST take some time off during the week to just rest: to be free from church responsibilities, school and work. A time to just enjoy being together as a family without church members calling, or sermon prep looming. It is probably more important for pastoral families than anyone else. With out this rest, Satan will be able to use stress and exhaustion and burn out to tear our families, our ministries, and our lives apart. God wants us to take this time off. That's why He gave us the weekly Sabbath. It is up to us to make it happen!

© CLUTCH, 2010 unless otherwise sourced.
Use allowed by express written permission only.
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God Cares

It was the day before church, and I had way too much to do to get ready. As a typical pastor’s wife, I had placed too many things on my plate for the weekend. I had to finish cleaning and cooking for the company we were having after church, prepare for the children’s class I taught weekly, plan the children’s sermon I was supposed to give, review the books of Esther and Ruth with my boys for Bible Bowl that night, and get ready for the scout meeting I was in charge of as well as a training session I was giving. And of course, I had waited until the last minute to do most of it! As I passed by my middle son, Adam, on my way to vacuum the downstairs I did a double take. The poor child was brushing his hair out of his face so he could eat his lunch without eating his own hair. He desperately needed a haircut. All three boys did actually. The problem is, it costs $45, which we didn’t have, to take them to the barber, and we had another week until payday.

I sighed. I knew this day would come, and I had put it off far too long: the day when I would have to cut their hair rather than taking them to a professional. Prior to this time, my husband would take all three in together to an old fashioned barber shop. But we just couldn’t afford it anymore. I cringed at the thought. There is a reason barbers and beauticians go to school and get paid for what they do. Cutting hair is a messy, time consuming, stressful job. My boys are old enough to care how their hair looks, and old enough to blame me if it turns out bad. Plus, I tend to be a perfectionist, and I keep cutting until it looks right. Which usually means I cut way too much off, and the end result is something of a buzz cut.

So I gathered the supplies, my boys, and my courage. My husband set me up on the back porch with a stool, laid out the various sizes of clipper attachments, and wrapped an old sheet around Adam, the bravest, and most in need of a cut. I prayed, took a deep breath, and went to work. The sound of the vibrating machine in my hand put me in a zone, and I imagined myself as an artist, perfecting a work of art.

Three boys and a lot of hair later, I could finally let out the breath I had apparently been holding. We promised the boys they could play with the hose (while they washed the vehicles) in order to rinse off all the loose hairs from their necks, ears, shoulders and it seems every other part of their bodies. I proceeded to sweep up the porch floor. It was a windy day, so a lot of the hair had already blown away. I thought about all the birds that might use it to soften their nests. However, I still swept up four dustpans full!. It was a strange mixture of brown, blonde and red (each child has a different hair color), and it had to number in the gazillions!


I was suddenly struck with a Bible text: “Are not two sparrows sold for a copper coin? And not one of them falls to the ground apart from your Father's will. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.” Matthew 10:29-31

WHOA!!! As much hair as I just gathered, I was dumbfounded by the thought that God knew exactly how many there were, as well as how many remained on my children’s heads at that very moment. He cares for them that much. He cares for all of us that much. He knows us that well. Nothing happens to us outside of His will. Sure, we may make choices that go against Him, but He still uses those choices to make His glory known. As big as God is, and as much responsibility as he carries, He still is concerned enough for each little sparrow!

What a comforting thought that was for me on that day. Rather than stressing about how itchy I was, and how much I still had to do, I instead grabbed a Ziploc bag and dumped some hair into it. I called my boys to my side and explained the substance of my epiphany. The face on my 5 year old was especially precious as he tried to fathom it. He said, “When I get to heaven, I’m going to ask God how many hairs I have!” As I cuddled with my children, and shared God’s love with them, I felt a sweet peace flood over me. I thought of all the things I needed to do yet, and I gave them to God. He would help me accomplish what needed to be accomplished. Hey, I realized, at least I had my children’s story now!


© CLUTCH, 2010 unless otherwise sourced.
Use allowed by express written permission only.
Tweets, trackbacks, and link sharing encouraged.

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