This week I felt out of my normal rhythm on Sabbath. However, what I first labeled as resistance feels more like a stirring—a divine nudge rather than an obstacle. It’s as if God is trying to get my attention, inviting me to notice something new He’s doing. I sense a shift taking place—not born out of restlessness or fear—but guided gently by His hand.
There’s a quiet awareness that this stirring is connected to surrender. When Jesus said, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me” (Matthew 16:24, NIV), He was describing this very feeling. True surrender always carries a cost—leaving behind a familiar rhythm or paradigm to step into a new one designed by God.
This week’s “resistance” isn’t opposition—it’s invitation. It’s a deliberate, Spirit-led reorientation of my rhythm, my thinking, and my posture toward God. Change in His hands is holy. And so, I receive it with open hands, trusting that even this stirring is part of the ongoing work of formation—His way of shaping me to become more like Jesus.
Rest for Your Soul
During my Sabbath reading, I found myself drawn to the word “rest” in Hebrews 4. It lingered in my heart long after I closed my Bible. Our world is filled with wandering souls—people searching tirelessly for meaning and purpose, often carrying deep spiritual fatigue along the journey. Jesus understood this ache when He said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” (Matthew 11:28–30, NLT)
What a powerful invitation—come to Me. Not come to church. Not come to a retreat or vacation. Not even come to a place of peace. Jesus points us to a person—Himself. True rest is not found in a location or a schedule; it is found in relationship.
This is why we take seriously what Jesus said and did, seeking to integrate His way into every part of our lives. To be with Jesus, to become like Jesus, and to do what Jesus did—for the sake of others. Because the kind of rest our souls crave doesn’t come from escape or achievement—it comes from nearness to Him.
A Call to Live in Divine Time (kairos)
Last Sunday, I shared a reflection from my Sabbath journal—that integrating the Practices into our daily rhythm reveals the difference between Divine Time (kairos) and Mechanical Time (chronos). Orienting our lives to kairos is central to the way of Jesus. But what does it actually look like to live according to Divine Time?
This Sabbath, I began looking at how Jesus Himself lived in kairos. The Gospel of John alone is filled with moments where Jesus speaks of the importance of timing—Divine timing. “My time has not yet come,” He says in John 2:4. Later, “The right time for me has not yet come,” (John 7:6, 8, 30), “His time had not yet come,” (John 8:20), and then finally, “The hour has come,” (John 12:23; 13:1; 17:1). Jesus was intentional and attuned to the Father’s rhythm—not rushing ahead, not lagging behind. His entire life unfolded according to kairos—the sacred rhythm of God’s will.
So how do we live this way? The answer, I believe, is found in the Shema: “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.” (Deuteronomy 6:4–5, NIV). The word shema means far more than to simply hear—it means to listen, pay attention, understand, internalize, respond, and obey. (I picked this up from reading Trevor Hudson’s Renovare Book Club book “In Search of God’s Will”). Listening, then, is the pathway to loving God and loving Others.
When we become a people who listen—to Jesus, to the Holy Spirit, to our Heavenly Father—our hearts begin to align with His. Transformation happens from the inside out. Our lives begin to move in rhythm with kairos—God’s divine flow—rather than the ticking pace of chronos, the mechanical time that so easily enslaves us.
To live in Divine Time is to listen deeply and love fully. It is to be formed by God’s eternal rhythm, not driven by the clock of the world.