7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess

by Jen Hatmaker

  •KP Garden maintenance schedule

  •Restore Group Tuesdays

  •Meals delivered to sick/new baby/ grieving friends

  •Paint the Hays County Food Bank

  •Garlic Creek Game Night

  •Middle School Wyldlife meetings

  •Pee Wee football practice/pictures/games

  •7th-grade flag football league

  •Elm Grove Open House

  •Adoption dinner party

  •Grill-outs for the homeless

  •Marathon “training”

  •CSA pick up on Fridays

  •Birthday parties

  •Neighborhood National Night Out

  •ANC Girls’ Night In

  •Dinner parties

  •Carb-load spaghetti supper for the marathon team

  •Shabbot with friends

  •HALF MARATHON

  •College friends in for the weekend

  •Orthodontist appointments

  •Ninja Club (don’t ask)

  •Youth group

  •Pumpkin patch visitation

  •Ten thousand hours of correspondence

  I inspected my calendar for the last two months and compiled this list. I counted five blank squares in eight weeks. This doesn’t include the daily labor that keeps our children from flunking out, like Sydney’s character sketch of Mother Teresa with handmade costume and biography bag or Gavin’s report on the history of American coins (yawn). Also not listed is marriage maintenance to keep the hubs from turning into a roommate, because honestly? A little heat is mandatory so he is okay with making concessions for my impulsive, oops-I-forgot approach to life, and in exchange I’ll act graciously when our DVR is filled with seventy episodes of The Unit and River Monsters.

  Add leading a church.

  Add 7.

  Add Brandon’s first book due next Monday.

  Add this manuscript due in five weeks.

  Add a daughter whose love language is quality time.

  Add sons who need supervision so they don’t die.

  Add midnight bedtimes and 6:00 a.m. wake-up calls.

  We are the center attraction at the Freak Show Circus. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, step right up! Be amazed by the family juggling flaming batons while riding a unicycle on a tightrope with their heads stuck in a lion’s mouth! No net! Duh, duh, da-da-da-da, duh duh da-duh!

  For the love of Barnum and Bailey, we have too much going on. We are short fused, stressed out, overextended, and unrested. This pace is not sustainable. I don’t want it to be. This season of life is passing me by, accelerated by a lack of boundaries. Most days I just try to keep the wheels on, not living in the moment at all; I’m just getting it done while thinking about what’s left. My kids and husband get half answers, and eye contact is a crapshoot. Every day I could take a two-hour nap, so exhausted do I feel at 1:00 p.m. I have considered ending my life over the volume of e-mails.

  Such is the ridiculous American life. Every one of my friends has a similar story. None of us are happy about it, yet we keep filling the calendars. Yes, I’m in; we’ll sign up; I’ll do it. We race from one activity to another, teaching our children to max out and stress out. Nice legacy.

  This biblical concept of rest is whispering to me, “You’re ignoring me.” And I am. Not only do I not take God’s command for rest seriously, but I act like its not in the Bible. Ah, Sabbath. How cute and archaic. It’s adorable how the Hebrews obeyed that. Good for them. (Jen pats Hebrews on head.)

  Clearly I believe my labor is more encompassing than the ancients, what with their little cultivating the land and harvesting their own food and making their supplies and raising gobs of children and traveling to festivals and worshipping at the temple and dodging enemies and getting captured and released and whatnot. Oh, you Israelites don’t even know busy! I have thirty-one unanswered e-mails from yesterday! Perhaps you managed rest between the spring harvest and impending war, but I have to write three thousand words today and meet someone for lunch. I don’t mean to be condescending, but God expected more from you because of your lack of discipline and little idolatry problem.

  Ahem.

  There are six days when you may work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath of rest, a day of sacred assembly. You are not to do any work; wherever you live it is a Sabbath to the LORD. (Lev. 23:3)

  Well, that’s Old Testament. That law doesn’t apply to us. Or something. Ahem.

  There remains, then, a Sabbath-rest for the people of God; for anyone who enters God’s rest also rests from his own work, just as God did from his. Let us, therefore, make every effort to enter that rest, so that no one will fall by following their example of disobedience. (Heb. 4:9–11)

  Oh. But hey! Jesus was always breaking the Sabbath with healings and such!

  Jesus: The Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath. (Matt. 12:8)

  Jen: Um, so?

  Jesus: Are you Lord of the Sabbath, Jen?

  Jen: I’m not sure.

  Jesus: You’re not.

  Jen: Okay, then.

  Evidently, this thing still stands. And maybe for good reason. Maybe this isn’t just another spiritual task to wear us out. Perhaps God designed this as a gift, not an obligation. What if God understood our tendency to overwork and underrest, so He made it mandatory for believers to breathe . . . pause . . . pray . . . relax every week? Maybe Jesus meant it when He said, “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath” (Mark 2:27). God ordained the Sabbath for us, not as just another requirement from us.

  After six months of 7, I am ready to tackle resting and prayer. On the seventh day God rested, and in the seventh month we will too. The kids are thrilled, instinctively understanding that fasting from a fast life has “marvelous” written all over it. Plus, it won’t mess with their Gameboys or access to Double Dave’s Pizzaworks for the Wednesday buffet.

  We will follow the ancients, the monastics, the Benedictines, and the contemplatives into the practice of honoring the hours through prayer pauses every day: midnight, dawn, midmorning, noon, midafternoon, twilight, and night. Those humble enough to pause and touch the grace of the hour have hallowed these rhythms for centuries. Some of these come from traditions and even language outside the typical evangelical experience, but they are most definitely characterized by the practice of resting before God, which is rarely cultivated by the evangelical writers and speakers of our day. These hours, echoed in Scripture, have been revised and expanded in many ways, known by several names: the canonical hours, the Divine Office, the Prayer of the Hours, the Divine Hours, the Liturgy of the Hours.

  For Month Seven, our guide will be Seven Sacred Pauses, written by Macrina Wiederkehr, member of monastic community St. Scholastica, whose wisdom is so profound, I underlined nearly every sentence in the book. She describes the pauses as “breathing spells for the soul,” an oasis to remember the sacredness of life, who we are, how to offer God the incredible gift of our lives, and learning to be in the midst of so much doing.1 We will pause and pray seven times a day:

  The Night Watch (midnight)

  The Awakening Hour (dawn)

  The Blessing Hour (midmorning)

  The Hour of Illumination (noon)

  The Wisdom Hour (midafternoon)

  The Twilight Hour (early evening)

  The Great Silence (bedtime)

  Each pause has a focus, and like Wiederkehr explains, “Each day we are summoned to be creators of the present moment. Artists know the value of white space. Sometimes what isn’t there enables us to see what is. Perhaps you are being called to the spiritual practic
e of bringing a little of the white space—of nada—into your workday. There in that white space you will find your soul waiting for you. Allow the anointing rhythm of the hours to touch and teach you each day.”2

  Ladies and gentlemen, I ran a half-marathon in the final month of Seven as an adoption fundraiser. "Will you do another one, Jen?" YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH OR I WILL NEVER SPEAK TO YOU AGAIN. I mean, no I will not.

  In addition to these daily pauses, the Hatmakers will observe the Sabbath from sundown on Saturday to sundown on Sunday. Traditionally, Sabbath begins on Friday evening, but we are adhering to the spirit of the day, which calls for corporate worship and family rest, and for us that is Sunday (unless the country would like to move church services to Saturday and push all games, tournaments, birthday parties, and community events to Sunday). Additionally, Saturday is sometimes a work day in our family, as ministry requires. We have a weird life. For us the day of rest is Sunday when we gather with the saints, pack up the week’s work, and claim the treasure of the Sabbath.

  We’re shutting down the circus, people. For this month, rather than Barnum and Bailey, we’ll be the low-budget sideshow carnies without a big production and a fraction of the star power. We’ve been a sorry bunch of clowns, running around like idiots, cramming into cars, driving in circles and getting nowhere. We’re exhausted (and we suspect the elephants are plotting a coup). It’s time to breathe and pray and learn to be still and rest. Now that sounds like The Greatest Show on Earth.

  Day 1

  O Pilgrim of the Hours

  Each morning

  Night’s curtain

  Opens on a new day.

  You are invited

  To join the great opening.

  Open your ears.

  Open your heart.

  Open your eyes

  To the sacred path

  You travel every day,

  The path of the hours.

  Greet the hours

  With joyful awareness.

  Greet the hours

  With faithful presence.

  Greet the hours

  With a reverential bow.

  Greet the hours

  With a sacred pause.

  Reverence each hour

  As a small stepping stone

  On your pilgrimage

  Through the day.

  Receive the gift

  Of seven sacred pauses.

  Practice waking up

  Seven times a day.

  —Macrina Wiederkehr3

  I’m going to admit something to you: I’m not a good pray-er, okay? I never have been. I love the Word; I connect naturally to that medium. I like words on paper. I like a tangible passage. I like actual language to focus on. I process through writing. Scripture is how I know God and feel known by Him.

  Prayer is harder for me. Whether it’s a communication weakness or an undisciplined mind, I don’t know; but I have to work hard at consistent, focused prayer. My prayers include rogue parenthetical thoughts: (I’m so hungry.) (I forgot to order books for my event.) (Why do these pants feel so tight?) (When did I go to the dentist last?) I’m a concrete thinker, so ordering my thoughts without an anchor is a struggle. This final month of 7 is necessary for me.

  The structure of the Seven Sacred Pauses is perfect for a wandering mind like mine. Every prayer has a rhythm, a focus, and—three cheers!—written prayers and psalms and readings. The language will tutor me. Here are the basics of each prayer pause:

  The Night Watch

  My eyes are awake before each watch of the night, that I may meditate on your promise. (Ps. 119:148)

  Also called vigils, which I love, this pause is around midnight. “Like Jesus, keeping watch the night before he died, I keep vigil with those who wait alone.”4 This is a deep, even dark prayer of waiting and interceding, keeping vigil with Christ who never sleeps and guards us in our darkest hours (Isa. 40:28). The Night Watch advocates for others in a dark night of the soul: the suffering, abandoned, oppressed, lonely. “Perhaps some night when you get up to pray, something will turn over in someone’s heart and find its voice all because of your small prayer. Perhaps our very waiting in the darkness gives some struggling unknown pilgrim the hour’s hope.”5 Sometimes vigils are for waiting, when your struggle has been voiced and God’s hand hasn’t moved. The Night Watch is a time to say, “I will wait for you, Jesus.”

  Although there are beautiful prayers and psalms to use, this pause is also powerful silent—a simple, quiet connection with Jesus, staying awake together to shoulder the suffering that plagues this planet and our hearts. “For God alone my soul waits in silence” (Ps. 62:1 nrsv). It’s like sitting silently together in the waiting room while a loved one is hanging on by a thread in the ER—words aren’t necessary, but there is something powerful about your presence, your attention, the vigil you and Jesus are keeping.

  Readings

  Psalm 42

  Psalm 63

  Psalm 119:145–152

  The Awakening Hour

  “Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love; so that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.” (Ps. 90:14)

  At dawn it’s time to begin our day in glory, remembering God’s goodness. Even after the darkest night, the sun will rise. The Awakening Hour includes thankfulness for a new day, a fresh slate. It’s the moment to pray for resurrection: What needs to rise in us today? Do we need to awaken to joy? Forgiveness? Should we pray for the resurrection of love in our hearts for our spouse or children? Ask for a dawning in our own soul: “Even in darkness light dawns for the upright, for those who are gracious and compassionate and righteous” (Ps. 112:4).

  We enter a new day where our lives can become a living praise. Our desire to live this day well, for Jesus’ glory, is an offering. After the Night Watch this moment celebrates God’s intervention, His redemption. We never have to look far to see what He has repaired and whom He has transformed. Night vigils are for waiting and interceding; the Awakening Hour is for praising and celebrating. “This day is Yours, Jesus. Awaken Hour love in my heart so that I am a vessel of light today.”

  Readings

  Psalm 19

  Psalm 95

  Psalm 147

  The Blessing Hour

  Let your loveliness shine on us, and bless the work we do, bless the work of our hands. (Ps. 90:17)

  This mid-morning pause has two emphases: The first is mindfulness of the Spirit’s abiding presence. It was the middle of the morning when the Holy Spirit came upon the waiting disciples with gifts of courage for birthing a church (Acts 2:15). For this reason the early church commemorated the coming of the Spirit during the midmorning hour of terce, or “third hour,” a fixed time of prayer in almost all Christian liturgies.

  At this hour the opportunities are still endless, making it the perfect time to invite the Spirit to stir our souls. This pause can redirect our morning trajectory from “efficient” to “inspired.” We invite the Holy Spirit deeply in before the day gets away from us.

  Second, the Blessing Hour is about the sacredness of our hands and work. Whatever our work looks like—an office, raising children, working from home, a classroom, ministry—we ask the Spirit to bless us with creativity, composure, inspiration, love. Kahlil Gibran said, “Work is love made visible”; what if we approached our work as an opportunity to show love? To our coworkers, those we serve, our children, to our students . . . visible love is possible if we work mindfully, as carriers of the sweet Spirit of Christ.

  What a lovely moment to share over a fresh cup of coffee with a Christian coworker or a midmorning snack with our kids. Together, we ask Jesus to bless our hands and reveal the sacredness of our work, inviting the Spirit to breathe fresh wind into our tasks. We turn our affections to the Spirit, receiving the affection He feels for us.<
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  Readings

  Psalm 67

  Psalm 84

  Psalm 121

  The Hour of Illumination

  You are the salt of the earth . . . you are the light of the world. (Matt. 5:13–14)

  At midday, the brightest moment of the day, we honor the hour when Jesus embraced the cross (Matt. 27:45). Like Him we recommit to giving our lives away. We follow His leadership in servanthood, practicing peace in a world of violence and vowing to love this world like Jesus did. In the spirit of the hour, we pledge to shine brightly, becoming hope to the hopeless and light in the darkness.

  During the Hour of Illumination, we ask Jesus to send light into our hearts so intensely that they break wide open, so we can make the decisions that lead to peace—from death to life, deception to truth, despair to hope, hate to love. We self-inspect our hearts for violence we are choosing to harbor—toward ourselves, spouses or family members, coworkers, community, those who are different, toward any part of creation. We ask God’s love to illuminate the parts of our souls darkened with bitterness or anger or unforgiveness or apathy.

  By all means enjoy this pause outside with your face turned toward the sun. We pray to be sons and daughters of the light, bringing joy to a dark world. We pray against the darkness that consumes and steals and ruins. We offer our hands and words as agents of change and justice. Like Gandhi said, “Be the change you hope to see in the world.” This midday prayer is our pledge to pour out our lives, just like Jesus did at great cost.

  Readings

  Psalm 24

  Psalm 33

  Psalm 34

  The Wisdom Hour

  For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. (Phil. 1:21)

  At midafternoon the Wisdom Hour embraces the themes of surrender, forgiveness and wisdom, and the impermanence of this life—including aging, maturing, and death. It is the hour Jesus died and gave up His spirit (Mark 15:34). This prayer acknowledges all things are passing, not in a macabre way but in the spirit of wisdom which knows this life is temporary, and we should live like we believed that. Frankly, who would like this day to never end? This season to never pass? For greater things to never be realized?