Sunday, January 19, 2014

A Saturday Tale

"Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days you shall labor, and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God."   ... Exodus 20:8

Way back in Olden Times when Debra was 17, she decided she kinda hated Saturdays.

Strange, right? Shouldn't all kids love their day off from school?

Well, this teen dreaded Saturday afternoons, especially, because I'd spend the morning pursuing whatever I wished, but by 1:00, I ran of things to do. Hours until dinner loomed like a boring grey eternity, filled with struggle to keep my mind occupied and happy.
Actually, I missed the structure of the other six days (some personality types need that.) On my own 'ship', it felt like the sail dropped into the sea, leaving me to drift on boring waters.

Or something.

Even weirder? I can still struggle with Saturdays in my 50's. When I don't treat Saturdays as my personal day of rest, it's as though my mind and body whine,"Stop feeling guilty!  Just take the day off. Play or read or watch tv, but don't treat this day like all the rest." (Many choose Sundays, but Saturdays have always felt like my body's perfect rest-day fit.)

Of course, this would be easier if I wasn't a rather organized homemaker who loves what she does and takes many hours 'off' each day already and who totally believes Hebrews 4 in an hourly kind of way:

"There remains, then, a Sabbath-rest for the people of God;  for anyone who enters God's rest also rests from his own work, just as God did from his.  Let us, therefore, make every effort to enter that rest..."

 Those facts weave hugely into my weekend angst.

Now, when Tom's here, Saturdays aren't a problem. He's a pro at turning all Zombie-like on Saturdays and pulling me along with him. And because I usually do double the housework on Fridays, I can become a do-nothing slouch without guilt more easily.

But Tom wasn't here yesterday. So I had to silence the, "Get back to work!" voices and then lecture myself a bit. "Hey! It's Saturday, my day of rest. Cool it. Respect your body's request to take one full day off, guilt-free ...

... and respect God's request that you take a day off, too." (Remember those verses?)

Oh yeah. It's weird how I can forget He asks us to relax our bodies at least one day. Dream. Meditate. Count blessings. Do what calms and renews us.

So that's what I did. Gave myself permission to be a Saturday Slouch. Took a few pictures from around the house (which you're seeing here), fed the birds out in the snow, played around on the Internet and pretty much just did whatever.

And called that Saturday, Good. Rejuvenating. Refreshing. 

Because it was.


Hooray! Tom and I signed-up with Skype so now we're able to see each other when we chat each day. Love that.


Oh! I discovered that I'm able to view all my Kindle Cloud Reader ebooks here on Tom's computer, as well as mine. Did something change? Seems months ago I tried, but it didn't work, so I assumed that whatever computer you downloaded your Kindle Cloud, that was the only one you could read from.

Either my much repeated phrase, "Never assume anything," applies here or else changed things. But whatever, I'm thrilled since I spend most of my time downstairs (where Tom's computer is) because of the glorious natural light. I'm thinking a couple skylights are in order for Debra's World upstairs, well, someday hopefully.



Judy said...

I remember having that same Saturday afternoon problem when I was a child.

Up until the past couple of years both my husband and I worked on Saturday. Oh, how I longed for that feeling then.

Had it for a moment yesterday. It feels GOOD now!

Anonymous said...

Never feel badly for taking the day GOD commanded us to rest, to do just that!! My hubby and I have been doing that so well as we can, for a decade now and being so blessed for so doing!! Even animals need at least one day of rest out of seven days!!
Elizabeth in NC

Tracy said...

Skype is a blessing! Used it every day when my husband was deployed. Helped me feel like he was kinda home to be able to not only here from him but to see him, too. :)