Shabbat Shalom


Shabbat Shalom … Sabbath of Peace






I’ve already missed it! It is Friday evening and the Jewish Shabbat began at five. All work should have been done. Meals for tomorrow’s Sabbath should have already been prepared.

One of our elevators in Israel was a Shabbat elevator. It opened and closed on every floor going up and down; the intent was to keep devout Jews from having to push the button, thus work, on the Sabbath.




Growing up, Sunday for my family, and many other Protestant families, was a day of rest. We got up and went to Sunday School and church. Now, our poor Mothers somehow got us, the three girls, dressed, fed, and scooted out the door Sunday mornings, and also had pot roast and potatoes and other side dishes ready for us after church. I have no earthly idea how my Mother did all that. I would never have been capable of such a feat. I am sure she would have rather had the Sunday meal prepared the day before, Saturday.


1950s Church clothes (2)


I lived in a time, the mid-fifties through the sixties, where all stores and gas stations were closed on Sunday. We would never have dreamed the world today never stops, never closes, never rests, never honors the Lord’s Day.




I miss those days of rest from the work week. With Saturday chores done, cartoons watched, and homework finished, Sunday was a glorious day for doing whatever we wanted … or doing nothing at all.





Dear Lord, I was so glad to experience Shabbat in Israel. I thank You for reminding me that there are those that still honor and respect the day You set aside for reflection, worship, and thanksgiving. I regret that I missed Shabbat, however, the Sabbath for Protestants is Sunday. Saturday is the preparation day before Sunday’s Sabbath. So I am not really late. Please help me to honor You, Lord, through rest, reflection, and rejoicing that You are my Lord and Saviour, my Way Maker, my Provider, my Protector, my friend.  Amen





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