Breaking Sabbath

I wondered what I had done to my Sabbath. 

Sundays are set apart for my family. We go to church for Coffee and Conversation and Worship. We stay for Coffee Hour, catching up with friends and family over veggies and dip and a multitude of sweets. We go home, rest, read, play games, hang out, have dinner, do our nightly devotions and slip into bed contented after a day of relative rest.

But not this Sunday. Or next. Or the following Sunday. Or the one after that. Instead we will be rushing from church to home almost immediately following worship. I'll drop off four kids, pick up lunch, and be off once again with a thirteen year old and, hopefully, some coffee. I'll bring Haley to one of our favorite places to be - Epoch Arts - so she can help build, decorate, script, and costume a "Childhood Nightmares: Video Games Gone Wrong" room for Epoch's annual haunted house. No relaxed Sabbath for me. 

The first day was this past Sunday. I successfully ushered children out the door of church, even amidst their pleading that we stay just a few more minutes. Lunch prepared the day before, we ran inside, picked up lunch and my computer, and bolted out the door in hopes we'd make it on time. Mostly there, with a little time to spare, I made a short detour for coffee. 

Upon arrival, we were greeted in a whirlwind of excited teens, questions about homeschool co-op, and hugs from people we hadn't seen in months. In short order, Haley was off to sit in the theater in a circle of forty or so teens and I found a comfy spot on a couch with my coffee and computer ... for two hours.

Two hours! Two hours of relative quiet. Two hours to myself. Two hours to read, to write, to pray, to contemplate; to have wonderful conversations with amazing people; to listen to teens planning crazy, scary, mind-bending rooms with equal amounts of passion and teamwork, and to just sit and breathe. 

It turns out I'm not breaking Sabbath, I'm getting a delightful break on the Sabbath.