This week has been a bit of a voyage of spiritual discovery as I have begin observing what seems to be the most logical understanding of the Sabbath. My first Sabbath day was Thursday. Perhaps I need to provide some context here. It’s not that I never take days off. Sometimes, on Saturdays, after I’ve been to the Market, prepared food for the week (where possible), prepared for Sunday School and Discipleship for the week ahead, cleaned the house and done the homeschool prep, I only check emails. Mostly I do a bit of work, but not every Saturday. The rest of the week seems to be round-the-clock work, and it’s fine because it’s the life I’ve chosen. I don’t mind or resent it a bit, I’m just tired.
The idea of a whole day where no work is allowed to be done is so very beguiling that I decided to investigate it even if it was just to see how it felt not to work at all for a twenty four hour period. And what did I discover?
Simple: I’m a workaholic.
For years I’ve been telling myself that I work so hard because I have to. I don’t have a choice, and if I did I certainly wouldn’t spend the day behind my computer screen. I may have to revise my thesis. I was actually jittery. It was a bit like the way one feels when the internet is down and a deadline is looming. Panic. Nail-biting, jaw-clenching, armpit-wetting distraction. What should I do all day? We had a bit of school: Bible time and reading some great stories. I had a challenging quiet time, and then I fairly paced the room like a caged animal.
In the end, I actually did do a bit of work, operating under the vain hope that if I don’t charge for it, it doesn’t count. Genius? Hmm …
It turns out I may well have an addiction problem. And I may well have a problem with idol worship. My idol seems to be my work, and I need to process what exactly I’m going to do about that.