The Man and I drink coffee the color of caramel in the middle of the morning. He swings and I rock and our kids run in and out, the front door groaning with each open and shut.
We talk church and parenting and community and we run our fingers around the gaping holes that run straight through us.
We’ve been sidestepping the holes like the landmines they are, throwing dirt by the fistful over our shoulders always trying to cover them or fill them or disarm them.
I mean, who knows what to do with a field of holes through one’s soul when the entirety of one’s life is spent helping others fill theirs?
There is no white space, no margin, no sliver of compassion, no space for deep soul care, no shaking of the head when need knocks hard and heavy on the front door.
And yet, there is no life in the living apart from abiding in the Life.
After lunch, when my people are doing what they do, I steal the strip of grass running along our sidewalk and stretch out on my favorite quilt.
It’s a field of clover, really. There is no grass, but its green, and so I let myself imagine the clover into grass.
I lay on my tummy, my feet reaching into the green, and I breathe.
Ava slips down next to me on the quilt, her head finding my arm and she sleeps.
I watch her, practicing the still and quiet in my own space,
Making a sanctuary for my soul to find its way home.
And I let the Spirit groan for me while I inhale the gift of Sabbath.
Joining in the the #GiveMeGrace community with Lisha Epperson. May you spend a few minutes over in this beautiful community and let yourself breathe a little deeper this weekend. Happy Sabbath, y’all.
And if you’re interested in learning more about Sabbath, you may want to consider joining Shelly Miller’s Sabbath Society. I’m a part of that community and every Friday, Shelly slips an email into my box, encouraging me to honor the Sabbath. It reminds me to breathe.