"I can't believe it's already Day 32 of 53!" I lamented to my niece during our visit with her and her husband on a balmy winter day. Panic set in as I looked at Google Calendar and realized that the planned two-month sabbatical from our ministry responsibilities was already more than half finished.
The healing and soul restoration that I had anticipated was not quite in place. One month had passed, and I could still feel heaviness and anxiety attached to me like barnacles on a ship. There was no particular problem or event on my mind, just a nondescript weariness that hung like a distant cloud over the beautiful time we shared with my niece and nephew.
With deep compassion, my precious niece said, "God is aware and was always aware, well before you went on sabbatical, of the time it would take to remove the barnacles and help you fully enter into rest." This simple but profound truth had eluded me. Although I was on "Sabbatical," I was letting the calendar control my thoughts and emotions. God is the author and controller of all my days, and His gift of rest was mine for the taking.
When my husband and I embarked on our sabbatical journey, we intended to rest, reflect, connect with family, and have an adventure of a lifetime. As I leaned into God's gift of rest, He provided all we had hoped for and much more. From the reflection time provided by a cool winter wind coming off the ocean as we walked along an empty boardwalk in Maryland to intentionally resting at a Villa amid a dormant vineyard in Tuscany, Italy, no moment was wasted. Our sabbatical was to be the template for how to live an ongoing life of Sabbath.
God always has and will be the provider of the strength I need to continue life's journey. Although I have resumed my regular schedule with all the responsibilities, joys, and difficulties, I am not returning to my usual tendency to respond to them with stress. I am returning to rest—rest in God with quietness and confidence that nothing misses his attention and care. Just as I didn't need to count down the days of my sabbatical, all the days I am walking out in my return to life, as usual, are in His hands. I pray that you, too, return again and again to rest—rest that is not found in a place but in His presence.