Why I Keep a Sabbath

In a world that thrives on hustle culture and constant connectivity, the idea of Sabbath seems downright countercultural. Yet, as a pastor, a spiritual leader, and a human being created in the image of God, I’ve found that keeping a Sabbath is not just a suggestion or an option; it’s a lifeline. It’s a way of re-centering my soul, recharging my body, and reconnecting with the One who sustains me.

Here’s why I keep a Sabbath—and why I believe everyone can benefit from this ancient, sacred rhythm of rest.

When God rested on the seventh day after creating the world, it wasn’t because He was tired. God doesn’t get tired! It was because rest is woven into the very fabric of creation. In Genesis, we see that Sabbath was part of the divine order: “By the seventh day, God had finished the work God had been doing; so on the seventh day God rested from all God’s work” (Genesis 2:2).

Sabbath isn’t a task to check off my spiritual to-do list. It’s a gift. It’s a reminder that my worth isn’t tied to how much I accomplish. It’s about receiving the grace to simply be.

One of my favorite phrases for Sabbath is “a sacred pause.” In ministry, as in life, it’s easy to fill every hour with work, meetings, pastoral care, sermon preparation, and the thousand little tasks that make up a week. Even my personal time can become overbooked with good things: cycling, caring for my Dalmatians Goose and Sheffield, or working on a Lego project for my club.

Sabbath reminds me to stop. To breathe. To reconnect with my humanity and my God. It’s a day to step out of the fray and realize that the world will keep spinning even if I take my hands off the wheel.

Let’s be honest: rest can be scary. It can feel like giving up control, especially for someone like me, who thrives on creating, planning, and doing. Sabbath is an act of faith. It’s trusting that God is in charge and that the world doesn’t depend on me holding it together.

When I take a Sabbath, I’m declaring that I believe in God’s provision. The work will still be there when I return. And perhaps—just perhaps—it will be clearer, more joyful, and more life-giving after I’ve rested.

Replenishing the Soul and Body

Ministry—and life in general—can be exhausting. Over time, exhaustion becomes spiritual dryness. If I’m not careful, I’ll start pouring out from an empty vessel. Keeping a Sabbath fills that vessel back up.

On Sabbath, I turn down the noise of the world so I can hear God’s voice more clearly. This might mean praying, reading Scripture, or simply sitting in silence. I might listen to music, ride my bike, or watch a movie with Jenn. Sometimes I dig into a good book or find solace in nature. Whatever the activity, the intention is to nurture my soul and body, knowing they are interconnected.

When I slow down enough to pay attention, I notice God’s blessings more. I notice the vibrant orange of a Lego brick I’m stacking or the wagging tail of Goose and Sheffield when we walk. I notice the people around me, the gift of community, and the beauty of the world God has created.

Sabbath transforms my heart from one of striving to one of thanksgiving. It reminds me that everything I have—every breath, every gift, every moment—is from God.

Let’s not ignore the fact that our world doesn’t value rest. We’re told that productivity equals worth, that we’re only as valuable as our output, and that busyness is a badge of honor. Taking a Sabbath is a radical act of resistance against a culture that constantly whispers, Do more, buy more, achieve more.

On Sabbath, I deliberately step away from the screens, the schedules, and the noise of consumption. I rest in the truth that I am enough—just as I am—because God says so.

Sabbath isn’t just about me. It’s about creating space to be with others in meaningful ways. Sometimes that means worshiping with my community at SALT Inclusive Methodist Church. Other times, it’s enjoying quiet time with Jenn or sharing a meal with friends.

Sabbath fosters connection. In a world of surface-level interactions, it carves out time for deep, intentional relationships—with God and with the people I love.

I’ll admit that Sabbath hasn’t always been easy for me to practice, even more I have struggled to trust that I can take a sabbath – ego can do that to us, we feel so important we can’t step away. It’s taken intentional effort to carve out this time in my week, especially as someone who thrives on being busy. But the more I’ve leaned into Sabbath, the more I’ve rediscovered something profound: joy.

There’s a joy that comes from resting in God’s presence, from delighting in creation, and from letting go of the relentless need to “do.” It’s a childlike joy—the kind that feels a lot like playing with Lego blocks or marveling at a sunrise or sunset.

Over the years, I’ve learned some practical strategies for keeping a Sabbath:

1. Plan Ahead: I make sure my work is wrapped up before Sabbath begins so I can fully embrace rest without distractions.

2. Unplug: I limit technology use to quiet my mind and create space for real connection.

3. Set Boundaries: I let people know my Sabbath time (usually Friday) is sacred. It’s not a day for meetings, email, or pastoral crises (unless it’s truly an emergency).

4. Lean into Delight: Sabbath isn’t just about resting; it’s about delighting in God and His creation. I try to do things that bring me joy and point me back to God and Spirit.

5. Keep It Simple: There’s no one-size-fits-all approach to Sabbath. What matters is the intention behind it: setting aside time to rest, worship, and reconnect. I often read, enjoy the beach, or a bike ride, or my kayak. I also enjoy creating during this time – pottery, stain glass making, and woodworking are some of my favorites

Though I keep a Sabbath as a Pastor, I believe this rhythm of rest is for everyone. Whether you’re a teacher like Jenn, a parent, an entrepreneur, or someone in a busy season of life, Sabbath is a gift waiting to be unwrapped.

It’s not about following a rigid set of rules. It’s about discovering what it means to live in harmony with God’s design for us—to work, yes, but also to rest, rejoice, and trust.

If you’re feeling weary, overwhelmed, or disconnected, I invite you to try keeping a Sabbath. Start small. Set aside a few hours to unplug, rest, and simply be. Over time, you might find that this practice transforms not just your week, but your life.

Sabbath reminds me that I’m not defined by what I do. I’m defined by whose I am. And as a child of God, I am called not only to work, but to rest.

After all, even God took a break. If God saw it as “very good,” maybe we should, too.