Why is it so hard to stop? Hard on the heels of stillness, at least eleven to-dos begin to crowd my mind and heart.
“I should do this.”
“Oh, we need to do that.”
“I hope we can go there.”
It is Sabbath morning and the branches out front have learned to sway almost imperceptibly. The only reason I notice the slight movement of a long tree limb is because I take slow-time to look. I reflect, “The branch moves that way only because of the wind. Without the breeze, that branch would be perfectly still.”
To move only by being moved upon—that is Sabbath.
Spirit, today—at least for one day—I wish only to move if you move me. Otherwise, let me be content to simply remain rooted in creation and her Father, who created rest.