Sabbath on the Page #3

These entries are a sporadic series of posts in response to a remarkable book that I read and journaled through in 2013–“God in the Yard”  by LL Barkat. It is about slowing and seeing and Sabbath.  You can order it here.

I am getting better at listening to that still, small Sunday voice that says, ‘Stop’, in the middle of all that calls to me to BE Done NOW. With a new teaching job and lesson plans and paperwork and computer entries….well, I could work all weekend.
But I did listen and went outside for 30 minutes to notice things. Here’s what Jesus gave me as I sat with my journal and my peach tea.

To a ‘T’
I have always eschewed tea cups as
bone china, fragile, gilt-edged
Smallish vessels, they hold no candle
to the authentic beverage container–
the mug.
Cylindrical, large-mouthed, sensibly-sized
receptacles for hot, liquid refreshment.
Or so I thought.

I choose this day instead,
in honor of a tea-drinking friend,
a long-distance homage to her presence–
the flower-bedecked, dainty handled,
Made in England model.
It is an “aha” moment.
The cup fits perfectly in my two open palms,
joined in holding the steaming, scented brew
to my lips.

The position does well
to warm my hands–
an added bonus, as I am
outside in the cold under cover
from the rain.
I feel a bit regal–and smart–
at my discovery.
Who knew?
Although those boorish mugs
have their place in a
cuppa jo kinda world–the
stronger the better–
there are times more perfectly suited
to the just right fit of a tea cup.
And here on a rain-soaked
Seattle Sunday in September
is one of those times, indeed.


My word for the year is ‘fit’.  I smiled when I finished this piece–how I fit in my Father’s hands….
Linking with sweet Jennifer and the Soli Deo gals.
Jennifer’s talking about drinking, too.  Another kind…