creating sabbath.

I love working at the bookstore. 

It's a dream come true, and some days -- days when I walk to work in the crisp fall air, days when little girls curl up on pillows and read aloud to themselves -- I really do feel like Kathleen Kelly, really do feel like I'm doing just what I was meant to do. 

Retail, though, is hard, brain-bending, muscle-using work, and I am working perhaps harder and more than I have ever before. My head is constantly swimming with random marketing ploys and event details, with book titles and story time crafts. It's never ending, this cycle of ideas and plans, and although I anticipated some of that labor, I'm not sure I ever could have been adequately prepared for just how much my brain would be in overdrive. 

When I took this job in August, one of my biggest concerns was the new schedule I'd be undertaking. I now work Tuesdays through Saturdays, 10 a.m.. to 6 p.m. Those two extra hours I get every morning? They're amazing. I rarely have to rush off to work; when I've adeqautely prepared for my week, I'm able to eat breakfast in the morning, able to watch an episode of Hart of Dixie (my newest guilty pleasure), able to walk, able to be a little quiet and ease into my days. 

And Mondays off? I'm cleaning my house, grocery shopping with the stay-at-home moms, and actually cooking our family a decent dinner. It's delightful, and I actually love having a day off while the rest of the world heads to work.

BUT. 

Jordan still works Mondays through Fridays, which means his day off? It's not my day off. An entire day we used to spend together -- running errands, going on lunch dates, hanging out, watching football -- is gone. Sure, we both get lots more done on our days apart -- Jordan cleans and washes the dog and preps for his Bible class; I grocery shop and do laundry and read -- but it comes at a price. 

We've begun even more dedicated in our Friday night date night tradition, but we've also tried really hard to establish a true Sabbath. 

Our Sundays used to be filled to the brim, often in the best kinds of ways. We'd go to church, attend Bible classes, head to lunch with friends or family, then Jordan would spend hours prepping for our small group studies while I cleaned up and got dinner ready. We'd meet with our small group until late into the night, praying and laughing and fellowshipping together until we realized it was 11:00 and we all had to get up early for work the next morning. 

In August, I told Jordan that couldn't be our reality anymore. Our time together and times of rest are too important to me, are too vital for my well-being, to pack Sundays will one function after another. 

This fall, we've hit our stride. 

We still head to church each Sunday morning. Jordan teaches a Bible class (about Myers-Briggs, which has been fascinating!), and every so often, we still go out with family and friends. But at least once or twice a month, we go out for brunch, just the two of us, leaving us with long extensions of time ready to be filled with walks in the park and naps in our front lawn. We've created an unspoken Sunday night movie night, and our afternoons are much slower paced than before.

Sundays are something I treasure, now for a different reason than before. 

They are my Sabbath, my truest day of rest, and a time of peace and joy and quiet with my family.

There is something powerful about creating Sabbath when the rest of the world embraces chaos, something life-giving about rest and relaxation, about laying your head in the grass and reading in the Adirondacks that sit on your front yard. 

My week may be busy, but my Sundays are beautifully open wide, and I could not be happier about it.