Jubilee Year

January dawns and I’ve been waiting for the Jubilee Year.  Turning 49 in August but am using the calendar year for my project of exploration of how I could move from good intentions to real sabbath, in terms of giving a rest to many things that are me and not God, striving and not resting, sowing without reaping.  Sometimes my life is a chasing after the wind, as Ecclesiastes says.  And I am ready to lie fallow, to have the ultimate sabbath.  But as the calendar page flips over, I don’t really know what my Jubilee will include.  

I’d wanted to sort it out and I’d even made a little notebook with twelve tidy tabs for twelve different emphases of the Jubilee year.  Only I don’t know what they should be.  Or even where to start.  But it seems like a good sign that I have a houseguest who plays the trumpet, the symbol of Jubilee.  My only trumpet-playing friend shows up on January 1 of the Jubilee Year. I’m delirious.

Prayer… that’s it.  More prayer.  Prayer with greater expectation.


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