Coming Home

Coming back from study leave is always a bit wrenching. From the quiet to the bus station that is our home and my work. There I made choices between reading, writing, walking, napping, or staring and wandering into spaces beyond here and now. Here I choose between priorities established by calendar and issues and needs, few of which are of my choosing. As I said, it’s a bit wrenching.



The past week was a gift, undeniably. And as all gifts it must be treasured, appreciated for its value, if it is to be used well. I learned some things, the most significant of which has to do with limitations, my own. The chief purpose of Sabbath, a time of rest, is not to allow us to refuel our engines that we can keep on grinding through our lives. If that is all they do for us, then they are not holy, consecrated, set aside. They are part of our unrelenting toil. Their purpose is to allow transformation to creep into our existence. Transformation allows what is to become something new, allows it to evolve beyond the limited structures we have claimed as our turf, our lives.



Our choices are obviously less than full of the grace that would take us to peace and healing and hope. Without these we become prisoners existing in cages built of demands and necessities and fears. I considered the bars of my cage. I considered Sabbath rest. I considered some options and I realized however I looked at the situation, there were real limits to the speed I could move. There were real limits to what I could accomplish. There were real limits to the significance of the judgments that I fear. And there were no limits to the grace of God. Funny thing.



I think I learned something. Welcome home