Sharing the power cord and observing the sabbath, mom-style

We have one working computer power cord in our house right now; the others have fallen victim to the teething piranhas that we refer to as our beloved sons.  And so these days we trade off whose computer gets a hit, and whose takes a hit, metaphorically speaking.  Unless the younger toddler is awake, in which case, we'd be speaking very literally.  It's not ideal, but it works for now... [Relevant? We'll see - but I'm charging right now, so it's where we're starting...]

This morning at church, the sermon was about keeping the Sabbath, about resting not because we're done with all the work but because of what God has accomplished and because we follow his lead.  That we are called to set a Sabbath aside as "holy" - not common or ordinary - and to the Lord, laying aside our work, remembering that He is Lord, not our work.   That rest is a command, not a suggestion, and that it actually is a foretaste of the fullness and goodness of God that we will experience in full in heaven - so take a Sabbath, rest, relax, play - stat, okay?  It's a gift.  And, aside from about 14 different rabbit trails that I or the pastor took, not really sure which, I was all "amen," "hallelujah" and "praise the Lord" [in my head, of course; it's New England congregational, y'all].

And then I had a realization:

I'm a full-time stay-at-home mommy (and part-time, work-from-home gal, but that's the easy part).

And mommies don't get Sabbaths.

Maybe you don't struggle with this - but if I can be totally blunt, I think for most of us moms, our Sundays look pretty much like the rest of our days, except that we might add in the stress of getting our kids clean enough to go to church and rush out the door to arrive 10 minutes late and only mildly more frustrated that an ordinary day.  Not that this is solely a mom problem - our culture isn't great with Sabbath taking, period.  But at least for the working world, we at least usually have the distinction of not having to go into the office.

But for moms, our work doesn't end - and it's not really a matter of willingness to set it aside, or even about faith enough to set it aside.  My children do not operate on 9-5 schedules - and at 27 months and 10 months, their needs are still fairly intensely mom/dad-centric:

Sorry kids, mom is not going to be changing your diapers today - potty is in the bathroom if you need it, ten-month-old.  Discipline?  We're going to be having "BYOD" day on Sundays.  Please try not to gouge each others eyes out.  And S, if you could cook dinner for your brother, that would be great.  Sorry that the toddler-proof locks keep you from accessing the real stove, but I've heard that the toy stove you made in the VCR works great. 

And yet.

And yet, keeping the Sabbath is still a command - and by the reading of Deuteronomy 5:12-15, not a specific command to specific sub-set of God's people.  More than that, it's given as a gift - as a reminder of God's goodness, and a foretaste of his eternal rest.  So there must be something there for me too, right?

So how do I do that?  And still, you know, feed and change my kids - my job for the time being.

[I'm processing as I'm writing, so forgive me if this is jumbled]

Maybe part of it is partnership - acts of mercy from Jon, in shouldering some more of the parenting/cooking/diapering responsibility on weekends, as it's different from his work - as a way of loving me and our kids well, and giving me space to rest.  Sharing the power cable, if you will. [Told you it'd be relevant!]

Maybe part of it is just not doing laundry [like oh say the two loads currently running] or going grocery shopping [where Jon is presently] or keeping Sundays from turning into "catch-up" time for all the tasks which inevitably pile up [what I'm multitasking on, while writing this].

All of those are good ideas, and I think valid parts of healthy mom-Sabbath time.  But I think it's got to be more than that.  Because while power-cord sharing and limiting certain tasks to weekdays and Saturdays help create a space that is separate and set-apart from the ordinary, ultimately, rest and trust are postures, attitudes and not simply actions.  And as such, they transcend circumstances.

They are decisions to say, Jesus, this time is yours, not mine.  Regardless of the work at hand - the diapers that need to be changed, the meals that need to be prepared, the mess that needs to be cleaned up - I will choose to rest in you, and remember what you have accomplished already.  I will choose to play, to rejoice, to rest, with you, and remember that you are Lord, not my work [or my children].

So moms, what if Sabbath time for us looked more like opening our hands, and letting Jesus fill our day, rather than holding tightly to what needs to be done.  What if for one day, we leave the to-do lists in the other room, let go of the guilt, the pressure, and the urgency of the now, and live in the moment with our kids and our spouses.

[You live every day like this? No sarcasm intended, I'd love to learn from you - and I'd love to hear what "setting apart" a day as holy looks like for you instead.  Please teach me.]

What if Sabbath keeping looked like intentionally doing one thing that was soul-filling, apart from our kiddos? [like writing, drawing, running, or creating for me]  And, if the kids want to, inviting them to join us in that - there is nothing more powerful to a child, than seeing his/her mother full of life and joy, participating in something that it is truly fulfilling and delightful.  Please moms, let's take those moments of refueling intentionally.

What if Sabbath time for us looked like letting ourselves play - not for our kids, but with our kids, with our spouse, and for ourselves?  What if it looked like laughing more and letting the details go for the day?  What if it meant choosing to let the stress and busyness go - caring for the essentials, but opening our hands a bit more around the non-essentials.  Reading one more book, engaging in one more tickle-fest, cuddling for one more moment, running through the sprinkler even though its only 50 degrees, and laughing at the absurdity of it all. [or whatever feels lighthearted and "irresponsible" to you].

What if it meant inviting dear friends and their kids into our messy house, without the pressure of cleaning it, letting the kids run wild with one another, and unapologetically ordering take-out so that we can enjoy the depths of friendship and true laughter without worrying about burning the roast or keeping up appearances.

And then out of this posture of "resting," "trusting Jesus" with this one day - what if we lived the other six out of that mold? With a better perspective of what actually matters, a deeper sense of joy in the mundane, and souls that are fuller.

Maybe this is something that you do every day - in which case, I applaud you.  We all struggle with different things.  But this is my invitation for now.  And if it is yours, I invite you to join me in this journey as well.

Now if you'll excuse me, my husband needs the power cord and my children have just woken up and are demanding the essentials of food, diapers, and snuggles.