Katha von Dessien

[Five Minute Friday] Arrival

Advent.
NOUN /ˈædvent/
the time when something begins or comes into existence
the process of bringing something into existence or use for the first time

It’s 5.15 and my alarm goes off. Time to get up and go to work. I ride the train through the pitch black landscape and during the first lesson it is still completely dark. It feels surreal living and working when you can’t see anything outside.

The winter months are the dark ones that force us to go home early.
To stumble through the darkness.
To accept that we are often blind and have no clue about life whatsoever.

These dark months sharpen our endurance.
They refine our dreams.
They train our senses to wait and to hope.

Right in the middle of this waiting period Advent happens.
The arrival of the One who calls himself light of the world.
He enters our dark and confusing world with his perfect light that makes any kind of lightbulb look dim.
His light outshines our every darkness, our doubts, our hopelessness.
His light drives out any of our fears and accuations.
Flee oh darkness, for the light is here.

His breath revives our weary hearts and tense muscles.
His glow sheds light onto our faults and pulls our broken souls out of the shadows. He illuminates the dark spots we so often try to hide.
His healing hand mends our broken bones and broken hearts.

His light challenges us to pass it on.
To not keep it to ourselves, but share it with those who still stumble through the darkness.
To create a space where both of us are free to live in the light and share our bruises.

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light;
those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone.
For to us a child is born, to us a son is given;
and the government shall be upon his shoulder,
and his name shall be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end,
on the throne of David and over his kingdom, to establish it and to uphold it with justice and with righteousness
from this time forth and forevermore.
Isaiah 9:2;6&7

Writing for Five Minute Friday today. The last one for this year!

[Five Minute Friday] Season

Yesterday I went for a walk with a friend. The sun was already down and we were enclosed in darkness. People brushed by us with their faces tucked away in thick winter coats. We wore hats, coats and gloves, but it was still cold.

As we walked the busy streets of our town I realized how much I detest the cold.
I don’t like my whole body shuddering in these low temperatures.
I don’t like tense muscles because I’m shivering so much.
I don’t like wet feet because the beautiful white snow has become some brown disgusting slump.
I don’t like people running past each other, everyone in a hurry to get out of the cold. We’re generally in a bad mood because, well, it’s just too cold.
I don’t like that it’s Advent, but I am way too busy to even slow down, reflect and let Christmas joy settle in my worry-haunted heart.

Since I spent a few years in warmer realms I am naturally inclined towards the sun.
Wouldn’t it be nice to have summer all year round, I would suggest in my dreams.
Recently I’ve come to answer this question with no.

Despite the cold and the moody people, winter has its beauty.
There are lights and the smell of freshly cut branches in the house.
There’s baking Christmas cookies and gathering for tea times with friends.
There are slower songs that bring back memories from all those winters when we were small.

There’s a moment of slowing down, letting go, death.
Creating space for unseen things to grow and unfold.
Practicing patience while waiting for spring to bring back new life and new dreams.

Winter is a moment for the soul to pause and cleanse itself. When the first rays of sun and blossoms break through in spring it is ready to rejoice and take in new life.

Just as nature blossoms and dies we need these seasons to learn, to wait, to grow.

Writing for Five Minute Friday today.

[Five Minute Friday] Table

It’s quite unusual for a TCK to think about settling down and owning a home, but sometimes these thoughts pop into my head.
Dreams of a house, a big old house with plenty of rooms to have guests over who don’t have to sleep on the floor.
A large kitchen to cook and experiment.

And a table.

A large table to seat many people.

The people who come to my parents’ house probably remember one thing: being stuck at the table. In a good way.
We have lunch or dinner together and we start talking. And somehow we share and engage and discuss so much that we don’t realize how fast time flies.
Many good memories and thoughts were created at that table.

I want people who come to my house to remember similar things.
For now it’s no big house or large kitchen, but rather a small student apartment (it’s old, though) and a small table with shaky legs.

Nevertheless, I want to make memories.

My table should be a place for good conversations to take place.

A place where people are brave enough to open up and don’t have to keep up a painful façade.
A place where we connect over the simple activity of cooking and eating and experience the Lord’s presence right in the middle of it.

A place where we worship and pray with our songs and stories and realize that the church is right where people gather to break bread and enjoy fellowship with the Lord and each other.

Fellowship is so precious and essential for our spiritual well-being.
We often try to foster it through bigger words or louder songs.
But often it can be as simple as sharing a meal with someone and hearing their story.
You’d be surprised how much you’ll see the Lord in that other person if you decide to listen and break bread with them.

Who can you invite to your table this week?

Writing for Five Minute Friday today.

[Five Minute Friday] Dwell

dwell (dwɛl).

Verb.
1. To live somewhere
2. To look at something for a long time

It’s always refreshing to spend time with P, my godson.
He’s not even a year old and can’t say a word. And yet we ‘talk’. It’s a joy to spend time with him and watch him move.
The way he touches objects for the first time.
The way he moves around and slowly expands the little radius he calls his world.
The way he looks at things. Really looks at things.

The other day I wore earrings and he spent about thirty minutes just looking at it again and again. Running his small fingers across the surface, turning it back and forth to take in every detail.
He’s got all the time in the world.
No meeting to attend, no emails to reply to, no friend meeting somewhere.
No inner voice telling him to move on.
He can just dwell.

I don’t know when it happens that life takes on this incredible speed we all seem to run at.
During breakfast we already plan the day ahead of us.
At night we reflect on all the challenges we had to face during the day.
Goodness, I even detected myself drifting off in conversations. While my friend was talking I was already planning next day’s lessons. My incoherent answers to her questions made me realize how off I really was.
We always need to move forward.
Towards the next weekend, the next vacation, the next promotion, the next partner.
We’re not allowed to dwell.
To stay in one place for a longer time.
To look at things and people – really look at them.
Run our hands across the surface and take in all the details.
Invest the time to dig deeper until we reach some deeper level of intimacy.
Enjoy and rest in this moment until that inner voice is silenced by a deep, deep peace.

Writing for Five Minute Friday today.

[Five Minute Friday] Weary

I had it coming for a while now.
Too many weeks of running around, stressing out about all the things I had to do.
Too many days of not enough sleep, quick lunches or no food at all.
Too many hours of sitting at the computer, planning and worrying.
Too often the feeling of being overwhelmed, wondering how I could manage it all.
It started with a soft itching in my throat. Then a running nose. Then a feeling of heaviness in my legs. Now I am writing this from my bed, lying down with the flu.

I am weary. And sick.

I guess we all know this feeling of everything being simply too much.
We work too many hours because something just has to be done.
We don’t take time to relax, to really enjoy a meal.
We take chances and keep on working even though our bed’s calling for us. Sure we can survive on little sleep, but we shouldn’t have to.
We push everyone away because we’re so buried in work and worry.
We are weary, but we won’t admit it.

A few weeks ago I complained to my roommate how everything was just too much and I didn’t know where to start anymore.
She said, “You do know you’re allowed to say NO?”
My head knows, but my heart needs to know it, too.
My hands needs to release the task I hold on to so firmly and relax.
My mind needs to let go of the thought it keeps mulling over and shut down for a while. My spirit needs to stop worrying and come to rest.
My lips need to muster up the courage and say the redemptive words:
Stop.
No.
I am weary.
I need help.

If you’re weary this week, pause for a moment.
Allow yourself to rest a bit.
Your self does not depend on what you do.
Reach out for rest.
Reach out for help.

Writing for Five Minute Friday today.

A Piece of Home

I just spent a few days with my grandmother.
She lives in a small village, and when I say small I really mean small. About one hundred people live there, only ten of them are below fifty years old.
We used to live there for a year, a very challenging year I have to say. After two years in the African jungle we ended up in this small village with not much to do. The bus runs twice a day – to school in the morning and back in the afternoon. People go to church on Sundays and to the pub on weeknights, that’s it.
I have to be honest, I was quite happy when we moved to a bigger town after a year.

Once in a while, though, I return to visit my grandma and most of the time it’s rather dull. Still the same nothingness. You have to plan your trip carefully if you come by train because the bus doesn’t run very often.
It sometimes feels like traveling into the middle of nowhere.

Entering my grandma’s house is like stepping out of your normal busy life into a quiet zone. It’s like life’s busyness stops all at once, it can’t get through that old wooden door.
I had never been able to define what awaits you inside until now.
There’s a calmness and peace which seems boring on the surface; yet, only when you enter you realize how desperately your soul needs exactly that.

A kitchen with an old oven. The smell of freshly cut wood. A warmth that creates a homely atmosphere immediately.
A table in a sunlit corner of the room, surrounded by an old wooden bench and chairs. Lots of chairs to accommodate the many visitors coming by.
The constant smell of coffee and some cake, which Gran can pull out of the most unexpected corners.

An old wooden staircase whose boards creek unless you know where to step. It leads you to two rooms, both older than everyone in the family. It’s hard to find electric sockets, they just didn’t exist when these rooms were built.
The floor made of old beams shimmering so brightly from decades of cleaning, waxing and trodding on them.
A huge bed made of dark wood with thick down feathers and a large cupboard attached to it. Give me one person who wouldn’t want to jump from the cupboard right into the soft covers. It’s just too tempting and we’ve been scolded way too many times for giving in.

Another small steep staircase takes you to the attic, the best part of the entire house. For years and years it has been the storeroom for whoever doesn’t have any space in their own house.
The perfect treasure hideout for kids. Old cupboards, chairs, clothes, lamps. Each of them once belonged to uncles and aunts, great cousins and grandfathers. Each of them has a story to tell. Even though I’m all grown up now I still enjoy going up there, taking a trip down memory lane. Looking at the different pieces of furniture or clothing and imagining the story behind them. These dust-covered objects are way more than objects – they are a conduit into sweet memories of the past.

And then there’s grandma, of course.
A small roundish lady with a bun and a colorful apron. Her long black hair is spotted with gray and white streaks; her hands and face are lined with wrinkles.
She looks beautiful.
Beautifully, gracefully old. Immensely alive.
Her eyes are still full of fire and energy, and when she laughs you can see the joy in them.

She used to be a wild girl.
As the second youngest of four children she explored life and rebelled against boundaries to discover more about the world. She married a boy from the next village, she says it was love at first sight. She worked hard, running a farm, cooking for fifteen people every day, and raising seven children. She became a widow far too early at age fifty-four.
Her hands testify to the many hours of work and worry she has gone through.

She has been the good soul of the house ever since.

Despite a lot of hardships she persevered. “I simply had no other choice”, is what she often says when you ask her how she managed all the challenges life threw at her.
“And we survived.”

The kitchen is where most of her life takes place.
You can find her there early in the morning when she has her first cup of coffee before she heads out to feed her cats and chicken.
You always know when she’s busy because you can hear her soft humming – always the same three notes – in the whole house.
You will always find her working in the house or in her beautiful garden, except for an hour in the afternoon when she takes a nap in the giant armchair in the living room.

Life here is quiet. Life here is slow.

There’s a crazy loud world out there – but here there’s peace and quiet.
There are busy agendas and schedules out there – but here there’s only the right now. The work in front of you.
Like cracking walnuts for two hours and peeling the best parts out of the hard shell.
Like baking cake and learning the secrets from the best.
Like sitting down over a delicious meal and sharing what life has been like since we last saw each other.
Like listening to stories of the past and marveling at God’s grace and protection.

Life is good because I finally slow down enough to discover its little blessings in the mundane.

Grandma’s house is always open. There is a bell, but no one ever rings it. You just turn the key and enter.
This house has already seen people from all kinds of countries, continents, and lifestyles. Visitors from overseas and next door. Gran doesn’t speak any English and we have had quite a few interesting ‘lost in translation’ encounters.
Gran has never traveled much except Norway and Israel, but through the many visitors she has seen the world.

Grandma’s house is quite special.
It’s a place where you’ll always find a spare bed to rest your heavy legs.
A place where there’s always food on the table. “And if there’s not we’ll make some”, as my uncle says.
A place where someone will wait with open arms and an open ear to listen.
A place where you’ll meet a messy bunch of people I call my family.

A place you’ll never leave empty-handed, I promise.
You’ll literally have your bags packed with goods Grandma has for you. Instead of money she gives you eggs from her chicken, homemade ham and bread, even entire meals.
“It’s nothing”, she says.

But it is something.

You take a lot more away than a bag of goods. Wherever you go from here, you’ll carry stories with you.
Stories of the past that shape the present and inspire the future.
The big picture that binds us all together.
You treasure the memories for times to come.
Memories of quiet afternoons and walks around the lake in the sun.
The taste of home-cooked meals and sweet fellowship around the table.
The experience that despite all differences and distances family bonds are there to connect us all.

Grandma’s house, tucked away in this small village in the middle of nowhere, is a lot more than an old farmhouse.

It’s a piece of home.

And it will stay home as long as we decide to return and make it home.

[Five Minute Friday] Dance

A few years ago I finally took my first ballroom dance lessons.
My roommate had nagged me about it for years, “You have to go, it’ll make you happy.” But I always found some excuse. Sure, I wanted to learn to dance, but I just never found the time or inspiration.

I came home after the first lesson and something was different.
My feet hurt and my hips weren’t used to the steps yet, but I was elated.
My spirits soared and I couldn’t stop smiling.
I felt like being high.
This feeling hasn’t changed ever since, dancing is such a wonderful experience.
It releases a joy and freedom inside of you that you never knew you had in you.

Unfortunately, I don’t have a dance partner at the moment and way too little time to dance often. But I often dream about it.
I wish there was more dance in my life.
Not just the steps and movements, but the elatedness that comes from it.
The easiness with which your feet touch the ground and move around.
It makes you feel light, as if you could anything.
The high spirits and deep joy that make something inside of you come alive.
Some hidden freedom that needed to be released.
The freedom to just be, to just do – because you feel like it.
The freedom to not care about how you look or what others would say about you.
The courage you get to try out new steps and create new beauty.
The little twitchings in your feet that make you want to dance everywhere.

I wish there was more dance in all our lives.
More of that freedom to be and do.
More of that releasing power.
More of that joy and hope.
More of that life.

Writing for Five Minute Friday today.

[#write31days] Day 31 Two Years Later

Welcome to Day 31 of #write31days! You have made it to the end, congratulations! And thank you for reading along.
For more information check out the series’ page.
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A day in my life October 2015.
It’s been about two years since I started looking at boundaries and practicing them in my life. Many things have changed since then.
I have graduated from university and started my first real job. It’s been a crazy time of transition, saying goodbye to old lifestyles, habits – but also welcoming new tasks and challenges.
I am still busy and I didn’t just stop everything I was doing.

And yet I feel more balanced.

When I started my new job I didn’t know how exhausted I would be, so I canceled all my usual obligations. It was a bit risky stepping back from so many positions, but instead of accusations and neglect I received encouragement and help.
This was really good because starting a job (well, the first one ever) is a major transition, like being uprooted from your natural habitat and replanted into completely unknown ground. These were some tough first months.
After a few months into the job I felt like I had more of a grip on everything and I could slowly add other things to my life. Step by step I rediscovered life.
Coffee with a friend.
An afternoon in the gym.
Dinner with a bunch of people.
Staying up longer than 9 pm (if you get up at 5 every morning this is a big deal!).
A weekend away.
Setting boundaries is not about stopping life all together. It is letting go of the many nuisances and energy drainers to make space and time for life, real life.

I have become more vulnerable.
These last two years saw a few goodbyes to friends and idealized memories of the past. This was definitely a challenge accompanied by tears, loneliness and despair; and I’m not saying I’m all over it yet.
But it was also a process of refinement and immense blessing.
People have come through in unexpected ways. I received free meals, a place to stay, a space to cry, a silent hug.
People prayed when I couldn’t, they encouraged me when I had run out of words, they told me to stop when my mind was stuck in worries.
I have learned to speak my mind more and not fight every battle on my own. At first it felt like ripping out part of my soul and pouring it onto paper; now it’s more like processing out loud and inviting others into my mess. And I am incredibly blessed by people who are willing to stay and listen.

I have become more selective.
It’s not about how many meetings I attend or how much work I do.
I still get lots of emails from people asking to me help out, join this or that committee. I check every one of them. Think about them, discuss it with others. Listen into myself for my real motivation to do it. Often I hear a NO and lately, I’ve become better at actually saying NO.

It’s not about how many friends I have.
It’s not about the many.
I rather want to find the few that are really worth investing in. These rare friendships that will last longer than a move or a change of lifestyle or opinion. These beautiful connections that go deeper than accomplishments and gifts.
There are not that many out there and it might take a long time to build and refine these friendships. But the journey I have started has been good so far.

I have become more courageous.
Building deep connections is always a two-way street and sometimes you have to make the first step. I have learned to share more of myself. Not with everyone, but with the right people. Giving away a bit of myself has helped them to open up as well.
I have made interesting and often surprising connections when I shared. Some of my thoughts end up on this blog and I’ve gotten really great responses, often from people I don’t even know personally. Life is journeying together and it’s great to travel together.

I have become more intentional.
Do less, but dig deeper.
I don’t cram as much work into a day as I used to; instead I learned to appreciate an hour of doing nothing or a full day of rest.
I value community and actively seek it, even though it sometimes means stepping out of my comfortzone.

Sunday has become my favorite day of the week.
It is no longer a day of work and worry, it is Sabbath. A day to do nothing or something restorative.
A day when I sleep in and enjoy breakfast.

A day when I read a book, not for work, just for pleasure.

A day when I spend time with my coloring book, letting my
creative side take me to some new place.

A day when I listen to a sermon while walking through the woods, allowing the Lord to speak to me in some new way.
A day when I go on culinary adventures with my roommate and we enjoy new recipes or unusual ingredients.

A day when I celebrate life together with others.

Setting boundaries is a journey and I am not even close to finishing. I guess we’ll never be. But I keep on going and growing and thriving.
And I hope you will, too.

What have you learned in the course of this month? Have you made any changes? Have you experienced new blessings!
I would love to hear from you and your experiences during this challenge in the comments below!

[#write31days] Day 30 Bacon

Welcome to Day 30 of #write31days!
For more information check out the series’ page.
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Well, it’s the last Friday in October and once more we gather at Kate Motaung‘s place to write on a prompt. For this month all the prompts were voted by the bloggers themselves. If you’ve never read anyone else’s writing in this challenge, you’ve missed out on funny, inspiring, and encouraging people!
So it is no surprise that for this challenge they would vote the prompt BACON.

In the light of the latest findings that meat consumption causes cancer I don’t really feel comfortable writing about my ‘affinity’ for bacon.
I don’t eat it often, but sometimes I have this craving.

Smelling freshly cooked bacon takes me right back to sweet memories.
Like the many birthdays when we would cook bacon as a treat. My mom would put the bacon in the pan, turn up the heat. And leave. A few minutes later you would find all of us at the breakfast table eating crumpled, slightly burned pieces of meat and Mom going, “I don’t really know what happened here, guys.”
Like that one time when I spent a weekend with friends in Raleigh, NC and they wanted to introduce the German to the art of bacon cooking. It took a while, but now I know and actually enjoy cooking it. Whenever I smell bacon in my kitchen I immediately remember this fun weekend.
Like that one time about two years later with the same people in the same place. We hadn’t seen each other in two years, but cooking bacon together, stuffing our sandwiches, and pouring some coffee felt as if we hadn’t been apart at all.

I have always been fascinated how memory works.
It often doesn’t take much to trigger a film in our mind.
Smells, objects, sounds are the conduit to our memory and I am glad that they interrupt me in my busyness once in a while.
Then I sit back, let the images flash by before my inner eye, and smile.

What are some of the smells or sounds that trigger your memory?

[#write31days] Day 29 Make Rest a Habit

Welcome to Day 29 of #write31days!
For more information check out the series’ page.
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The last two years I had a really hard time setting boundaries. I worked too much and was involved in xyz projects. When I wasn’t working I was thinking about what to do next. When I wasn’t thinking I worried about all the things I hadn’t done yet and how everything would work out. Before I opened my eyes in the morning my mind was already wide awake and spinning at a hundred kilometers an hour.
It made no difference what day of the week it was, each day I was equally busy, working, worried. Restless. Never at ease or fully relaxed. I just couldn’t.

The constant state of restlessness – physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually – is detrimental to our entire being. If we want to avoid total collapse we need to set boundaries for ourselves. The next step is equally as important: we need to practice rest, make it a habit.

Sleep Because He Will Take Care
I am so glad for the invention of sleep, it is a physically forced form of rest. Yet, we are not automatically at peace when we close our eyes at night.
Our minds don’t easily go to sleep, they keep us busy with thoughts of the just passed by or the one ahead of us.
We just keep on worrying because we don’t trust.
We don’t trust that we’ll have enough time to finish the work in the morning.
We don’t trust that things will work out even though we don’t worry about it all night.
We don’t trust that the work we do is enough.
We don’t trust that tasks will be completed or perfect unless we slave for it at unusual hours.
We don’t trust the world will continue spinning if we don’t push it forward.

Trust me, these thoughts are real. I’ve entertained them all in my many sleepless nights.

Not only are these thoughts presumptuous in regard to your own status and abilities; they’re also a spit in the face of the One who says of Himself:
I will never sleep.
There’s nothing that happens (or doesn’t happen) that I don’t see.
My thoughts are higher than your thoughts.
I have good intentions for you.
You may rest and I’ll take care of you.

Mark Buchanan writes:

Sleep is a necessity. But it is also a relinquishment. It is self-abandonment: of control, of power, of consciousness, of identity. We direct nothing in our sleep. We master nothing. We lose ourselves and are carried like children. […]
Sleep is also an act of faith. […] We give ourselves, regardless of our unfinished business, into God’s care. We sleep simply because we believe God will look after us. […] If God can take any mess, any mishap, any wastage, any wreckage, any anything, and choreograph beauty and meaning from it, then you can take a day off.
Mark Buchanan. The Rest of God.

Lying down and allowing our minds to really rest is an act of trust. Committing our spinning thoughts to the One who holds the universe is like saying, ‘Okay Dad. Here’s my mess, take care of it please. I’ll take a nap in the meantime.’ And you know what? God will gladly do that. No, he won’t solve all our problems all at once. But if we force ourselves to keep quiet for a while we’ll actually hear Him whisper, ‘Don’t you worry, child, I got this’ as we drift off into sleep.

Honor Sabbath
Even though I was so incredibly busy my life got a little better immediately when I returned to a seemingly normal, and yet often neglected, tradition: honor Sabbath.

At the very beginning of the bible we can read about the invention of Sabbath:

Thus the heavens and the earth were finished, and all the host of them. And on the seventh day God finished his work that he had done, and he rested on the seventh day from all his work that he had done. So God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it God rested from all his work that he had done in creation. Genesis 2:1-3

God himself rested and he made us this great gift of a full day off. Why don’t we take it more often?

I know it’s very tempting to just keep going with life even though it’s Sunday. Luckily in Germany stores are closed on Sundays, so you can’t just go shopping or working. But there’s still so much else you can do at home. Long awaited laundry or cleaning or paperwork or writing emails. It takes way more courage saying no to the work at home and turning your eyes from the piles in front of you and rather towards rest.

The excuse ‘I’ll rest later when everything’s done’ doesn’t make any sense because guess what? Work will never stop, you’ll always find something to do.
Shelley Miller writes:

I have learned that preparation is the key for successful rest. I have conquered organizing my week TOWARDS Sabbath instead of away from it.

If we buy into the lie of resting later, we actually cheat ourselves of a lot of strength. Saying YES to rest does not mean to neglect any important duties. It actually means saying NO to annoying nuisances. It means saying YES to gathering our energy for the really important things.
Living and honoring Sabbath well will make an incredible difference in the rest of your week, this I have learned in the last year!

Explore
So how can we make Sabbath more about God and rest?
Often when we’re tired of life we can also grow tired of God and making an effort in our faith life. So why not explore new ways to find and worship God?
Listen to an audio bible if you’re tired of reading it.
Meet with other Christians when you can’t seem to pray alone.
Write things down when you feel your words are shallow.
Speak plain language instead of ‘Christianese’ for once when you pray.
Leave the church and find God in nature or other people instead. Take a walk and rediscover the physical energy inside of you.
Read fiction and relax your mind while doing it.
Listen to some music and take in the melodies, power of instruments or unsual words.

Often it doesn’t take much to shift your perspective or sharpen your receptive canals. Wherever you are, whatever you do – God is already there and ready to meet you. Right. Where. You. Are.

Active Rest
We often think that Sabbath is about doing nothing. And yes, sometimes it’s time to stop completely and just sleep.
But rest is far more than just closing our eyes. It’s about finding true peace for our entire being and this can’t be found in one single day once in a while.
Sabbath is an attitude and lifestyle we need to cultivate and nurture carefully throughout the week.
It’s about getting to know ourselves and what we really need.
It’s about being fully aware of our purpose.
It’s about doing things intentionally and finding joy in it.

Sabbath as a day is a good start to practice these habits which will then hopefully overflow into the rest of the week.
Take time to cook. Make things yourself and enjoy experimenting with different spices, ingredients, produce.
Take even more time to eat. Don’t just stuff yourself, maybe invite people over and enjoy different tastes and the blessing of community.
Find out what restores you inside, no matter how mundane or strange it may be. And then do it.
Create something. Speak life into something seemingly dead, bring new beauty into this world. Discover the power inside of you, in your mind, your soul, your hands.
Make your life beautiful. Take time to decorate, to take care of your house. Bring in colors or flowers, a bit of life into the workspace.
Give yourself room to breathe. Whatever hinders you from that has to leave.
Turn down the decibles of your problems. While it is often really difficult shutting off our thoughts, we can still quieten them for Sabbath. Write them down so you’ll deal with them tomorrow, but they’re not allowed to bother you today.
Shut off your computer or phone that keep distracting you from quality time with God and friends.

How do you spend Sabbath? Do you live towards it, do you find time to rest during the week? What do you want to change about the way you rest?