Some men are great mechanics. They know vehicles and what needs to be done for them to function at their best. These men are like magicians; overalls are their robes, and wrenches are their magic wands.
I am not one of those men.
I am getting better at caring for my vehicles, but I sure didn’t start that way.
Earlier in my life, I had a Chevy Celebrity Eurosport. I drove it a lot.
One time, I was driving on a long trip and suddenly, the car just gave up; it would barely drive.
I managed to get it towed to the nearest service station and found out, to my chagrin, that the camshaft had been worn smooth. The guy asked me when I had last changed the oil on that machine.
I had never changed the oil on that machine.
Man, that was like a dentist asking me when the last time was that I flossed!
I had not been taking care of that vehicle at all, and it showed.
Sometimes, men can run their lives like I ran that car. They never really stop to care for the engine. They drive their lives hard and continuously, and then wonder why it isn’t operating at its full potential. Or, like with my car, their “engine” shuts down completely, and there’s no forward movement at all.
I remember the first time my personal “engine” shut down.
I was forty-one. I had been working hard for twenty years of my career. I took pride in sixty-hour workweeks and always being able to “get ‘er done” whenever the need arose. I never experienced problems with that pace. I had lots of energy and seemingly unlimited personal resources.
I made a lot of people happy with how much I worked, though not everybody felt that same happiness. I’m certain that my wife wasn’t always happy with the amount of time I worked. I’m certain my children didn’t always like it.
And I discovered, a bit too late, that my own body didn’t like it.
It was 2007, and my body simply shut down. I had to go off work for seven months. I couldn’t function. I couldn’t handle being with people, working, or caring for anything.
I had always glorified the idea of “burning out for the cause,” of giving it my all, of not holding back. But then, when the burnout actually happened, it wasn’t pretty for anyone. It made life very difficult for me, for my wife, for the family, and for my work.
It would have been much better had I taken care of things by purposefully, regularly, and carefully stopping and resting instead of going so hard that I was forced to completely stop for longer than I, or anyone else, wanted.
I had no one to blame but myself. I had a lot to learn about God’s plan for a successful, healthy way to live.
I tried to blame God, but quickly saw that He had already built a safety feature into the design of my life that would have made a significant difference for me. A safety feature that I had, regretfully, disabled.
That safety feature was Sabbath.
Sabbath is rooted in the Creation account (Genesis 1-2). The first chapters of Scripture tell us that God created the world in six days and that, on the seventh day, He rested (Genesis 2:1-3).
He could have created a lot more—He wasn’t tapped out on His creativity— but He chose to rest for a day.
In His infinite wisdom, He wanted to create a pattern for all men to follow. It was a cycle of work and rest.
There is a time to work, a time to create, a time to accomplish—and then there is a time to stop; to not work, to not create, to not accomplish.
And then God declared this as a cycle of blessing. He blessed the seventh day and made it holy.
There are three things that I needed to understand and keep in balance.
There is a time to work, a time to create, a time to accomplish—and then there is a time to stop; to not work, to not create, to not accomplish.
First, I needed to understand that work is great! Men were made to work!
Work was built into the Creation story:
“The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it.” (Genesis 2:15 NIV)
When everything was still perfect, men were made to work. It is wonderful to work.
Despite the fact that men were made to work and often love to work, the second thing I needed to understand was:
Sabbath is necessary.
When we stop and rest, it gives our minds and bodies a break. Just like my poor Chevy needed a break and some TLC, so do we.
When we stop, we also learn dependence. We learn that all of our work is in the hands of God. The ability to work and to earn money comes from God. If our work comes from God’s hands and if He tells us to rest from our work, then, in doing so, we are showing Him that we trust Him for everything.
We trust that, in our stopping, He will still be in control.
When we stop, we leave room for God to do miracles.
“Be still and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10 NIV)
We trust that, in our stopping, He will still be in control.
Third, I needed to understand:
Blessing is promised.
God chose to bless the seventh day, and He will bring blessing into our lives as we observe the Sabbath as well.
This is not legalism; this is life.
Men, for some of you, this conversation about the Sabbath will be a great reinforcement of what you are already doing. Keep it up.
For other men, this is going to feel like something way out of left field.
Don’t freak out. Maybe you can’t start by taking a whole day. Start by setting aside half a day where you stop and rest. Stop doing the things that normally fill up your busy life, and fill your day with things that bring you joy. Work your way up to a full day from there.
Receive and rejoice in the gift of Sabbath. And may God meet you in that place as you do.
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