Today’s poem comes with acknowledgement to Professor John Walton, whose teaching on Genesis 1 and the meaning of God resting on the seventh day completely turned my thinking on its head – in a wonderful way.
Creator’s Sabbath Do you suppose He rested because the six days’ labour had worn Him out, as though the arms that flung the stars into deep space had need of sleep, as though the hands that tuned the spheres were weary and were weak? No, When He rested He put up His feet upon His footstool, or to use another image, came into His house, turned on the lights and made Himself at home. You see, a house becomes Home when we’re at rest, and so He took the seventh day off to open up His bags and let the world begin, invited some guests, went walking in the garden and saw space there for a world of friends and set the home in motion. And sleepy hares underneath the tree worshipped Him with rest that day, neither tired from their exertion nor reigning like He reigned, but still at rest because they knew the king was home to stay and home to rule.