Resting and caregiving go together like oil and water.
In 2006, my son cut his knee while playing soccer. A month later, he had arthroscopic surgery to correct a congenital defect the injury exposed. He spent the next two months learning to walk again.
For those twelve weeks, my primary job was to care for my ten-year-old, no matter what day of the week it was. I could not put his pain on a shelf. He needed me to serve him regardless of what the calendar said. For a period of what would be three months, my Sabbaths were severely interrupted. I fretted a lot, trying to figure out what was the “right” thing to do.
Finally, one Sunday, I decided to take a sick day with my son. We didn’t try to accomplish anything. We ate muffins and played board games. We even did a little Bible study together. At the end of the day, I was exhausted and happy.
Some Sabbaths are like that. That one wasn’t about me. It wasn’t even particularly about God. It was about his child.
Jesus frequently had his Sabbaths interrupted. He even broke religious laws to heal.
This Sabbath I will drive 75 miles one way to sit with my mom at chemo. I have no more power over her cancer than I had over my son’s knee. But I can offer TLC. I will come home exhaused, but happy.
