It’s days like these that remind me why I retired from church work in the first place. It is an absolutely glorious October Sunday, with a cool bite to the air. The sun casts long rays heightening contrasts and color. I’m tempted to grab my camera, but laziness and a third cup of coffee hold me back.
A recent visitor to this site is a Presbyterian Minister who has his own blog, and on it he had some interesting observations about the Sabbath – Ahhh– Sunday. The Sabbath. Day of Rest. What a Crock!
A Sabbath is a stillness. "Be still, and know that I am God."
A Sabbath is a quietness. "Let all the earth keep silent before him."
A Sabbath is a rest from work. "You have six days to do all your work, but the seventh is a Sabbath to the Lord."
There are some sins that do not tempt me. I don’t struggle with them at all.
I’ve never killed. Not literally. A little hate in my heart, which Jesus counted as being as good as murder, but give me credit for never appearing on Court TV.
I’ve never stolen — well, not since that fountain pen I stole from the drug store in high school. You know teenagers and their dares and double dare ya’s.
But Sabbath rest? I’ve never actually obeyed that one.
So, after a long day of travel from the Northwest yesterday, I’ll let my substitute handle the choir this morning. At 11:15, I realized I could have made it to church, but why upset well-made plans?