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Good morning. There’s often something about my Saturday mornings that sets them apart from the rest of the week – even if I’ve a full working day ahead.

Perhaps it’s the quietness in the streets around, which provokes this sense of difference. It suggests a calmness my other days lack. It feels as if there’s more room to breathe, even as I launch myself into another busy day.

This spaciousness speaks to me of the true heart of the Sabbath – that seventh day of creation, on which God looked back on his previous days of labour, saw that it was good, and rested. This Sabbath promise of a regular rhythm of relaxation and refreshment can restore us before the cycle of work begins again.

But these days, far fewer of us have what we might think of as a traditional working week: Monday to Friday, nine to five, then a two-day weekend. 

Today’s living and working patterns are increasingly varied, and we may have family obligations as well. We can also feel under pressure to fill our leisure time with worthwhile activity.  When there is so much to be done, it can be hard to carve out space.  It can feel like a luxury we can’t afford.

Yet resting is necessary. Sometimes we need that special joy of doing nothing at all: recharging our batteries as we let the seething busyness of life settle, and relish God’s gift of the present moment.

Even Jesus took time out alone.

And where we cannot find whole days for resting, perhaps we can learn instead to grab onto the freedom of a few minutes, a restorative half hour or so, when the opportunity comes our way.

Loving God, whatever the pattern of our lives, help us to take hold of your Sabbath moments wherever we can find them, so we may know the gift of your deep refreshing rest. Amen.