It’s 4:00pm and sun slants over South Kensington, illuminating tall stone buildings and trees growing from squares of dirt in concrete sidewalks. Branches blush with tiny pink blossoms like clouds of cotton candy on the end of cardboard sticks.

From my window seat on the bus, I gaze through smudged fingerprints and watch people scurry through crowded London city streets. Unbuttoned coats flap in the breeze as young and old walk briskly down, across and up. Seats at sidewalk café tables fill around pots of tea, plates of pastries and conversation from a host of dialects.

Smiles from an American stranger seems like a curious intrusion to blank stares with earbuds singing mysteries into private thoughts.

It is the beginning of Easter break and freedom from routine brings a sense of relief.

How do you bring Jesus to people who long for the hope of resurrection but too busy to know it?

Stopping at Onslow Square, a cane pokes through the open door, preceding a man dressed in tie and trench coat. He is slow, balancing two grocery bags in his other hand while teetering in the gap. And the doors begin sliding closed, pushing into his shoulders.

The city doesn’t make time for a crown of white wisdom walking through the wrong door on a bus.

But a stranger in a ball cap and trendy glasses extends his hand, smiles and scans the man’s Oyster card for him.

When the old man is ready to exit, he stands slowly during a standstill in traffic, arches over his possessions and fiddles with the handles on the shopping bags.

And I hold my breath knowing a small jerk from the bus moving forward could injure him severely.

But the stranger stands up, walks behind him and places a hand gently on the shoulder of the trench coat to provide balance.

“Is this where you are getting off,” the old man turns around and asks him.

Shaking the bill of his cap, the stranger makes light conversation, politely saving the old man’s dignity. The doors slide open, the old man steps out and the clink of his cane on the sidewalk creates a rhythm among throngs of people.

Returning to his seat, the stranger sits in front of two children, listening to them talk with a smile on his face.

Can you hear it? Do you see it? Amid the busyness of life flows an undercurrent; a sweet rhythm of slow and steady wisdom breaking through the back door of your life when you least expect it.

Sabbath is a gentle hand on the shoulder to steady you when teetering on the brink of brokenness.

As we wait through darkness for Easter, light is breaking through all around us. Cascades of buds on branches, unbridled kindness and smiles of strangers are signs that the hope of resurrection is always with us. Sometimes it takes sitting still for a few minutes to notice.

Happy Easter Friends!

Want to make rest a routine, not just something you fill in between the cracks of your busyness? Join the Sabbath Society. Follow Sabbath-keepers in community with the hashtag #sabbathsociety on Twitter and Instagram and our Pinterest board, Surrendering to Sabbath.