Sabbath, sabbath, sabbath,
An entire sermon preaching to me about a day I’ve been
to let
no one
hassle me
with questions over.

Sabbath, sabbath, sabbath.

There is a sabbath I haven’t been keeping
But it’s a Man,
not a day,
a man who spent the sabbath in the grave,
so I could spend eternity in Him,
who came into my
so I could have His

He is my Sabbath rest,
and He is the Sabbath I haven’t been keeping.
My every-day-is-holy
has not been kept holy.
My every-day-is-rest-in-the-One-who-IS-rest
has not been restful
because I have not been staying with the one who makes it so.

Give me Him,
and I will set aside a day if I believe it from Him,
no struggle.
Take Him away,
and even if I keep a day,
I will still be working on it.

Why oh why am I not keeping my Sabbath,
my beloved Sabbath?
Why oh why am I not resting in my rest,
my desperately-needed rest?

I do not know,
and I beg that He will change me.


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