I remember receiving a note from my daughter’s school informing me that though the school year was nearly over, Luci’s milk account still had more than forty-five dollars. Further investigation revealed the not-too-surprising news that my daughter had not been drinking her milk. So I sat her down for yet another lecture, trying to convey the importance of establishing enough bone mass when she’s young so that when she reaches my age and beyond, she won’t suffer from fractures that could have been avoided. As you might imagine, my lecture didn’t convince.
Luci’s aversion to milk reminds me of a point Mark Buchanan makes in his book The Rest of God.
“God,” he says, “gave us the gift of Sabbath—not just as a day, but as an orientation, a way of seeing and knowing. Sabbath-keeping is a form of mending. It’s mortar in the joints. Keep Sabbath, or else break too easily and oversoon.”
Mark goes on to say that “Sabbath imparts the rest of God—actual physical, mental, spiritual rest, but also the rest of God—the things of God’s nature and presence we miss in our busyness.”
I remember working for a man who was a workaholic. Joe would spend hours at work every night. Though he was devoted to his work, he never seemed to stay on top of things. The more time he put in at work, the less productive he was. Or to say it more colloquially, the harder he worked, the behinder he got. At least that’s how his employees saw it.
Just because we devote boatloads of time and energy to something doesn’t guarantee a good return. Because time is such a precious commodity, let’s give some of it to God, who is able to transform the time we spend with him into mortar for our joints, ensuring that we will break neither too easily nor oversoon.
