Today, I practiced Sabbath.

• I slept in.
• I left my phone plugged in on the nightstand when I got up.
• I drank coffee on the back porch, wrapped in a blanket.
• I listened to the birds.
• I journaled.
• I ran slowly through my neighborhood, no earbuds.
• I stopped to look at someone’s garbage they were setting out—just a few boxes of books—and thought, Hey, I’m not in a hurry.
• I went to church—arrived early enough to talk to people, to linger, to be a family.
• I stayed late for a leadership training. We talked about this concept: “You can’t lead what you don’t own, and you can’t own what you don’t know.”
• I’ve been thinking about what that means.
• I made plans to have a new friend over for coffee this week.
• I took a nap.
• I ate leftovers.
• I played a game with my family.

I also did a few non-Sabbathy things…

• I made my bed.
• I did the dishes.
• I made a grocery list and went grocery shopping.

But I noticed something—I’m happy to see that my Sabbath-full list is much longer than my Sabbath-less one

Progress over perfection.

I’m reminded of Jesus’ words when the Pharisees tried to turn Sabbath into a set of rules:

“The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.”
Mark 2:27

As a disciple of Jesus, I’m intentionally slowing down this year—learning to notice the ordinary moments and reflect on the ways I see God moving through my day. Sabbath feels like a natural extension of that practice: a full day devoted to stopping, resting, delighting, and worshiping.

What a gift we’ve been given in Sabbath.