When you think about Sabbath as a cosmic rhythm—six days of work and activity, followed by one day of rest—it raises an interesting question:

What happens when you travel to a different geography or time zone, whether for vacation or work?

It can feel disorienting. Time and place shift. The natural rhythm of your life gets disrupted. And with that, your usual practice of Sabbath can feel off-balance.  This is exactly what I experienced this week sitting at rented lake house in Tacoma on Lake Washington.  Beautiful as it was, I felt out-of-sorts practicing Sabbath.

But maybe that’s the point. It takes intentionality to reorient your heart to Sabbath, especially outside the familiar context of home. Sabbath isn’t bound to a location or a clock—it’s a posture of trust and rest in God.

Wherever you are, Sabbath invites you to pause, even if the day or hour feels unfamiliar. It may take a little longer to settle in, but the rhythm remains:  Six days of activity. One day of surrender. Anywhere. Everywhere.

Sabbath:  Your Temple in Time, Wherever You Are.

Sabbath is your personal temple in time—a sacred space set apart to be with God.

Because God exists beyond time and space, whenever we intentionally make space for Him—regardless of our time zone or location—we align ourselves with His cosmic rhythm. In doing so, we honor Him wherever we are.

No matter the culture, context, or circumstances, we can worship Him.

Just like Daniel, who remained faithful in a foreign land, we can carry this sacred rhythm with us wherever life takes us.

Don’t Just Water the Grass – Enjoy It.

The house next to us at the lake house has one of those sprinklers that swings side to side—tick, tick—shooting streams of water across the lawn. When it reaches the end, it quickly resets and starts all over again—tick, tick, tick.

It made me think: isn’t that how modern life often feels? “Water the grass, water the grass”… tick-tick-tick… reset… and do it all over again.

There’s nothing wrong with being a good steward—taking care of our responsibilities. But how often do we stop to actually enjoy the grass? It’s God who makes it grow.

The sprinkler doesn’t pause to enjoy the sunshine, the cool breeze, the heron flying by, the family of ducks exploring the stream, the gift of peace and beauty.

Maybe we should.