Sabbath from Sickness

"And he said to them, “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath."

• Mark 2:27

A week of the flu burnt me- fried my motivation into a carbonated crisp, so much so I roared with rage and resentment that harderned my heart towards the most softening sweet part of me: my kids.  Fuelled by whining, fussing and just general exhaustion of sickness ignited by loneliness and isolation, I combusted under the pressure. The endless cleaning and laundry as well as medication and attempting to feed and hydrate dried up existence into a woods perfect for fury fodder. As soon as the flu forest fire begin to dwindle, I left so thirsty for seemingly impractical "wants" such as leaving the house to enjoy nature and explore as a family, worshiping in person, and talking face to face with friends. For the practical needs, food, clothing and home graciously given cannot water the deep wells which separate humanity from other animals. The interruption from doing the "musts" and embracing the "mays" especially on Sundays, means adhering to the command to rest on the seventh day, the Sabbath. Even those blessed and strong adults melt before the Lord as needy and weak children thirsting for the flow of living water.  So for those exiting the natural disaster zone of illnesss, extra douse yourself in water-giving activities. For me, venturing into a park, and enjoying coffee solo with a friend, and finally worshiping in person  broke through the damn walling my mind from flowing again. For others retreating to a dark quiet room unbothered for hours allow for the embers to cool to reset after heat-filled days provides relief.  Doing something completely beautiful and bougie to soothe the soul with Sabbath rhythm of rest, like enjoying the view after the mountain scaling of work to gain full prespective, embraces the flesh and bone of our humanity divinely created. For fighting fires in mothering most occur, but in order to survive water must flow again.

Stay thirsty my friends, and dare to drink.