A Good Friday.

Today is Good Friday. I spent the majority of it in the company of a Dutch Theologian trying to grasp the depths of the Covenant of Grace. That was hard work. But as I was somewhat frantically studying, my sister calls. I answer, but tell her I can't really talk even though I haven't talked to either her or my parents for weeks now. When we get off the phone, I suddenly can no longer concentrate and just become overwhelmed with all I have to do and the short time in which I have to do it.

The overwhelmed-ness didn't just come from studying for this particular test, but from the reality of my life for the next few years: Where do I draw the line between what needs to be done for today, what needs to be done for tomorrow, and what needs to be done so I don't get to tomorrow and realize I've missed out not only on everyone else's lives, but my own life too?
So tonight at work, I decided something. I need Sabbath. I need to start taking it seriously. The test I'm currently studying for is Systematic Theology, where we've discussed the importance of Sabbath and the rhythm God laid forth in the very fabric of creation. Labor and then rest. Work and then worship. Our professor told us to try God, test him, believe him that if we give him this honour, he will provide and meet all our needs.

In light of this, I believe it is quite fitting that the holiest of Lord's Days, Easter Sunday, be given as a gift back to God. So off I go. Tomorrow, I shall work and labor and try to cram in as much as I can for this test, believing that God will honor that in my preparation.
Because I know I need rest. God knows I need rest. He offers it. I just have yet to figure out why I'm so loathe to surrender and receive it.

Today we remember the Christ who died because are hopeless law-breakers. Hopeless, except for one hope for which we wait until Sunday.