7 Years of Sabbath?

Last weekend at a retreat my friend Aminta told her own story about a season of life that felt overwhelming. Family, work, ministry—burning the proverbial candle to a nub. My friend admitted to overwhelming fatigue, and a loss of joy. Desperate for a break, she found herself fantasizing about rest and vacation. In the midst of this, she heard Jesus say, “Aminta, take up your cross, and follow me.” 

Then Jesus said to his disciples, “If anyone wants to follow after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. (Matthew 16:24) 

Aminta demonstrated Jesus’ heavy invitation by dragging a cross-beamed replica across the stage. While catching her breath, she extended the challenge to the rest of us: 

Jesus calls us to deny ourselves and to pick up our cross. 

Listening to Aminta’s story I remembered my own season, not a decade ago, when life felt overwhelming. Work and family, ministry and seminary and adoption. A heavy load to be sure. 

But it struck me, too, that I am currently in a different season. A season of rest and restoration. The years we’ve spent at the lake, at our Red Oak Retreat, have been lighter. And didn’t Jesus say this, too? 

“My yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:30) 

Of course, theologically I suppose Jesus was talking about his requirements as a rabbi. But I wonder if he might also have been thinking of Sabbath—an offer of rest. 

While listening to my friend’s story, I heard in my spirit, an unexpected prompt: 

Do the math. 

What math? 

July 2019—the month we moved from our house in Andover

June 2026—the month we anticipate moving back 

I nearly laughed out loud as I realized—it will be 7 years exactly. 

Has God given us a 7 year Sabbath?!

I think back to those days when we labored so hard, pouring ourselves out for Jesus and family. 

But even if I am poured out as a drink offering on the sacrificial service of your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you. (Philippians 2:17) 

Yes, we identify with the sacrificial, dying life of Jesus. Taking up the cross. Laying lives on the altar. But even as we are metaphorically dying, we are also being raised to life. In Jesus’ upside-down kingdom, death is the pathway to life. We are always resurrected.

Kyle recently talked about our move back to family as our days of harvest. The farmer plants his seed. He waits. And then he gathers. 

Truly I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains by itself. But if it dies, it produces much fruit. (John 12:24)

Where once we sowed, perhaps we will reap!

Our years away have felt like a wonderful vacation. A true Sabbath. A growing season. And now we are rested and eager for another season of doing the work—whatever that means. 

We’re ready to go home for the harvest.