Rest has meaning

After Exodus 20:8-11 and Matthew 12:1-14 

To rest is not doing

nothing; to rest is

to recognize we have

limits, that we cannot

do everything. To avoid

rest is destructive; it

will destroy you. To rest

is to acknowledge

dependence on one who

is greater. To rest is

to know we are not

the center of the universe.

To avoid rest is

to embrace slavery.

To worship busyness

is to worship self.

 

Photograph by Jessica Mangano via Unsplash. Used with permission.

 

Some Sunday Readings

 

The Bottle Collector – poem by Liz Snell at Rabbit Room Poetry.

 

Absent Fathers in Children’s Literature: A Problem? – Betsy Farquhar at Redeemed Reader.

 

For Richer, for Poorer: How to Steward Money in Marriage – Randy Alcorn at Desiring God.

A day of rest

After Exodus 20:8-11 and Matthew 12:1-14 

It is a day of rest,

a day set aside,

a day to set work

aside, and rest.

The example is

there from

the beginning,

to work hard

six days and rest

on the seventh.

 

Rest does not mean

idleness, or a day

to observe rigidly,

without exception.

It can be a day

to do good, to bless,

to show empathy,

to show care and

compassion. That is

not work; that is

loving the Lord

of the Sabbath.

 

Photograph by Sincerely Media via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Friday Readings

 

Autumn – poem by Rainer Marie Rilke at Kingdom Poets (D.S. Martin). 

 

Every person is a tree. Every tree tells stories – Pierce Taylor Hibbs at Moments That Make Us.

 

The Good Life – poem by Rusty Rabon at Society of Classical Poets.

Is timing everything?

After Luke 14:1-6 

Does it matter,

this art of healing,

on what day

it happens? It

seems a quaint 

concern, to be

worried whether

someone heals

on a Sabbath.

Does any form

of work, and

especially healing,

matter if it’s

on a Sabbath? But

I suppose it does

matter, for anyone

more concerned

with form, rather

than substance.

 

Photograph by Denise Jans via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Sunday Readings

 

Living with Dementia – Peter Milsom at Evangelical Magazine. 

 

Impossible Christianity by Kevin DeYoung – Redeemed Reader.

 

Here Shall Your Proud Waves Be Stayed – Kathryn Butler at Story Warren.

Drop-kicking dropsy

After Luke 14:1-11

He is the point, or the example:

the man with dropsy, standing

there as they sit for a meal,

a man proven unclean,

it must be some sin

for otherwise he’d be well,

and he stands there

in his suffering until

the question is asked:

it is right, it is lawful,

is it legal to heal this man,

to heal him on this day,

this sacred day. No one

answers because to answer

is to shatter a belief,

a system, a culture.

In the silence he heals

the man, who’s sent away

but the silence remains,

a silence profound,

a silence burning.

Photograph by Rob Curran via Unsplash. Used with permission.

The Writer at Rest

I’ve invented a word: “misculturalized.” It describes being born, raised and living in one culture when you’re probably better adapted to another culture. And the culture I should have been raised in? The one that celebrates naps. Spain. Mexico. Argentina.

How could I have been born in United States, the country that hates – hates – naps? Think of everything we miss when we succumb to temptation and take a nap: getting work done; staying busy, looking like we’re staying busy; and rest.

Rest.

To continue read, please see my post today at Christian Poets & Writers.

To plunge into the second part

After Isaiah 56:1, 2

To plunge into the second part

is a mystery, a bewilderment,

this justice bit, this doing

right, aimed at whim, aimed

by whom, aimed when

although the why is less

unknown, because of what

is at hand, suggesting or offering

a mercy and a grace, a blessing

for doing this consistently and

daily, a moment by moment

commitment to act and act

of commitment, and how is

justice bound up in rest

or the Sabbath, as if we

need rest from a hard work.

It’s a mystery, this drenching

of the world with the kingdom.

Photograph by David Marcu via Unsplash. Used with permission.