It’s spring break here. We’re walking out the last days of throwing our schedules to the wind. Picking up hints of what Easter brought in the basket strewn about the living room floor. Preparing to welcome guests and laugh at the decay of winter.

Earlier this week, we wandered around Savannah for our first college visit, the rhythmic plink of the automated “wait” at the crosswalks forcing us to slow down.  Our bodies held taut by the incessant roar of engine noise and public transportation; smoke blown from the careless lips of passersby.

And I wonder, when did we become so small?

I rattled around the rooms of my mind so long I assumed they were Gospel until I opened the door to change spinning in my peripheral view. Slinging her art on the empty canvas, giving hints to the portrait of future.

There is a tendency to avoid Sabbath for all the busyness, the legalism we foolishly assume.

It’s funny how a change of place and circumstance can turn the clock forward on your soul. And reveal the anchor that holds you steady. It rests in the clear waters of quiet.

May you throw caution to the wind and paint Sabbath outside the lines.  Stand back and enjoy the way the colors of Spring run together.

Happy Sabbath Friends!

Some weekend reading from the Sabbath Society:

But in Humility by Terri Lynne Underwood, a new series over the next few Mondays.

The Bounce Back by Brenna D’Ambrosio on the redemption of Spring.

Stuff Happens by Dea Moore on Sabbath in the country.

Tortellini Soup {and an awesome i-Tunes playlist} by Kristin Schell (I’m making this for Sabbath.)