Sabbath Morning

Sabbath Morning

A steady, silent drizzle had left its glistening mark upon the landscape, as the morning rays of the sun peaked over the horizon.  Moss and lichen bloomed thickly on gnarled limbs that lay on saturated ground.  Exotic fungi burst patterns and colors from soggy bark, which had lain bare just a few hours earlier.  Herons perched in regal splendor on disintegrating stumps that rose from ripples.

In deep solitude, the breath of God brushed across and smiled upon the misty Sabbath morning.   Remembrance of sacred text rose up to meet new light.  Ancient words recounted times, when Jesus took retreat from the masses –into deep Stillness.

Jesus.  God in human form, who raised people from the dead.  Who spoke peace over the wild seas and walked on water.  Surely, He could have zapped restoration into the frailty of his human form.  Surely, He could have supernaturally pushed through, in the face of such great need.  Surely.

Instead, He quietly slipped into solitude –into Stillness– leaving a holy example of the way by which humans find restoration and sacred clarity.  Over and over again, He demonstrated to us the importance of heeding the call.

Stepping away from the noise, into the realm of the Still, Small Voice

In the Stillness, crystal Truth can be found for minds that analyze and rationalize, often drawing wrong conclusions.  Weary bodies, which succumb to human frailty, find restoration.  And spirits, which yearn for peace that defies the odds, are beaconed by a divine whisper-soft promise.      

Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy

Words, in stone.  Chiseled by Love.

Grateful streams rose from the depths of my heart on that quiet Sabbath morning.

Thankfulness rose.  For ancient words, mostly lost on modernity, who often rebel, missing the point, confusing the intention of Love with a skewed perception of stone-cold law.

Gratitude welled.  For divine compassion, which steers us away from chaos, drawing us deeply into grace.  Into renewal.  Into rest.

I stood on the shores of sacred ground, on that Sabbath morning, marveling at the perfect design, acutely aware of the purity of worship that springs from full realization of such a precious gift.

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If you enjoyed this contemplative piece, you might also enjoy reading The Pathway to Peace.

Or visit the Archives for additional story selections.

 

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