Why Your Sabbath Feels Broken: A Recovering Perfectionist’s Guide to Real Rest
3. The “Church Olympics”
Confession: I used to judge other families’ Sabbaths. “They’re hiking instead of morning service? So worldly.” Then COVID hit. With church online, I spent Sundays painting with my trauma-survivor niece who hates crowds. One day she whispered, “Auntie, this feels like God’s house too.”
I remembered Jesus’ words: “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath” (Mark 2:27). Now, we alternate Sundays:
- 1st week: Traditional service + potluck
- 2nd week: “Backyard church” with neighbors—communion with sourdough, worship via Spotify
- 3rd week: Silent prayer walk at the cemetery (my teen’s request to process grief)
Freedom looks like: Letting go of “shoulds.” Some Sundays, we binge Marvel movies and call it “theology of heroism.” God’s not keeping score.
4. The “Mom Guilt Gremlin”
Moms—you know the drill. Sabbath morning you’re trying to meditate on Colossians 3:15 (“Let the peace of Christ rule”), but all you hear is:
- “Should I meal prep for the week?”
- “Did I schedule the dentist?”
- “Why am I so bad at resting?!”
Last month, I discovered a game-changer: Outsourcing holy moments. My Jewish friend’s family uses a crockpot timer for Sabbath meals. Inspired, I now:
- Set a Friday 4pm deadline for chores (anything left undone becomes “Monday Meghan’s problem”)
- Use paper plates guilt-free (Jesus ate from shared bowls—He gets it)
- Let my kids lead a 5-minute “gratitude jam session” (drumming on pots counts!)
Sacred permission slip: Write Exodus 16:29 on your fridge (“Stay where you are on the seventh day”). Translation: “Stop moving. You’re enough right here.”
