How has this week been for you? Have you had a busy week? A slow week? A joyful week? A creative week? Are you happy it’s over, or do you wish you could live through it again? The week often flies by like a race—a constant vibration of notifications, chores, work, parenting, and the relentless pressure to always be "on". We’ve become a culture that measures worth by the length of a to-do list— forgetting that our spirits are often worn thin, like a thread pulled to its breaking point—until the Sabbath comes around, offering divine rest, a holy pause designed as a gift of freedom, and a reminder of our creator.
I recently came across a story that perfectly illustrates this quiet power of stopping. It’s about a small, independent bookstore tucked away in a bustling city that never seems to sleep. In a neighbourhood where every other storefront stays lit and open seven days a week just to survive the high rent, the owner of this shop decided to do something that her neighbours called a "financial risk". She announced that for twenty-four hours every single week, the doors would be locked, the lights would be dimmed, and her staff would be sent home to be with their families and friends. She didn’t call it a business strategy, she called it "honouring the rhythm".
Eventually, a local news outlet caught wind of her decision, curious how a small shop could possibly thrive while staying dark one day a week. The owner explained that the day of rest didn't just recharge her employees—it transformed the entire atmosphere of the shop. When they reopened each week, they didn't return with exhaustion, but with a contagious joy and a renewed sense of purpose. "We realized", she told the reporter, "that, if we spend every moment chasing the next sale, we lose the very soul of why we love stories in the first place. We had to stop to remember who we are".
When was the last time you allowed yourself to stop? It is the heartbeat of the Sabbath. When we look back at the dawn of time, we see our Creator resting with his creation on the seventh day—not because of exhaustion, but out of satisfaction. It is an invitation for us to step into that same rest where our value is not confused by our productivity, our academic achievements, or our bank balances. A day designed for us to remember our Creator and Saviour. We are simply children of God, invited to sit at a table where the work of our salvation is already finished.
The joy of the Sabbath is found in the deep, collective exhale after a long week. It is the laughter shared over a meal without the shadow of an upcoming deadline, and the refreshing realization that the world continues to spin even when we stop, because it is held together by hands far greater than our own.
As we lean into the rhythm of rest today, let the music and the fellowship wash away the grime of the week’s anxieties. May we look at our lives, our neighbours, and our God, and say with a rested and full heart, "It is very good".
God bless you and your family,
Malin Andersen
