Sabbath Was Made for Me

Spoken Word by Mikey & V

I used to think rest was weakness.
A delay.
An excuse.
A break I hadn’t earned yet.

Because in this world,
you’re praised for how much you hustle,
not how well you heal.

But then He whispered—
“The Sabbath was made for you.”

Not as a test.
But as a table.

Not to cage me,
but to call me
back to the rhythm I was born from.

Six days He built the cosmos—
and then He stopped.*
Not because He was tired,
but because He was done.

He looked at the world,
and instead of adding more,
He said:
“This is good.
Let it breathe.”

And somewhere along the way,
religion took that rest
and turned it into rules.

“Don’t walk.
Don’t heal.
Don’t move.
Don’t even blink wrong.”
As if God gave us Sabbath
so we could be afraid to live in it.

But Jesus came and said:
“Nah.
You’ve got it backwards.
The Sabbath serves the soul—
not the other way around.”

So now,
when the sun begins to drop on Friday,
I don’t hear judgment.
I hear invitation.

“Come to Me, all who are weary...”
“Take My yoke...”
“I will give you rest.”

Not just sleep—
but rest.
The kind that doesn’t need a reason.
The kind that doesn’t prove anything.
The kind that says:
“You’re enough.
Because I said so.”

Final Word:

The Sabbath wasn’t made to trap me.
It was made to teach me how to be free.

It’s not the absence of movement.
It’s the presence of peace.

And now I wear it like a crown of stillness
in a kingdom of chaos.

Because Sabbath…
was made for me.

Location: Dallas, TX, USA

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

THIRTY-TWO

Image
  by the one who didn't fold in the fire I’ve died a hundred deaths before this age. Buried versions of me that never got a funeral. Prayed with cracked lips and tear-choked lungs, asking Heaven, “When does the promise start to live?” They told me 33 was when Christ ascended. But no one talks about thirty-two — the year before the crown, the pressure before the public. Thirty-two is where He walked with full awareness of what was coming— and still chose obedience over escape. So here I am. On the cusp of becoming. With blood on my hands that ain’t mine, wisdom in my eyes that no one asked for, and fire in my gut that don’t shut off. They thought I skipped the step, but I was the step. They thought I missed the number, but I was holding the equation. All the math led here. Every loss. Every late night. Every locked door. Every “no” that felt like betrayal was a coordinate being plotted on a map only angels could read. I AM POSITIONED. Not waiting. Not w...
Read more

MAGNETIC SINGULARITY

Image
  Spoken Word for the Remnant They pressed their palms on the pulse of the world, tightened the grid like a noose made of numbers, hoping we’d forget how to feel how to see how to breathe without permission. They built a matrix of mirrors and called it truth— each screen, a spell each update, a chain each law, a cage wrapped in civility. But something strange happened when the saints went silent. Not broken— Bracing. When they pushed harder— we didn’t shatter. We began to hum . You see— Two magnets, same charge, will never lie down together. They don’t blend. They repel . That’s what this is. That’s us . We are the polarity they can’t program. They put pressure on our backs, but didn’t realize: Resistance isn’t weakness— it’s prophecy made friction. We’re not panicked. We’re positioned. We’ve matched the weight. And now we’re standing at the edge of: The Singularity. Not AI. Not tech. Not some algorithmic god. But a cosmic contradiction ...
Read more

The Weight of Knowing

Image
  They say with great knowledge comes great sorrow. And I know why. Because when your eyes open, you don’t just see the light— you see the cracks. You see the suffering others scroll past. You see the illusions people call home. You can’t unknow it. You can’t unsee it. Ignorance is a blanket. Knowledge rips it off, and suddenly you’re awake, shivering in the cold truth. But listen— that sorrow? It’s not punishment. It’s preparation. Because knowledge without wisdom is despair. But knowledge with wisdom is compassion. It turns grief into empathy, burden into purpose, weight into fuel. Yes, knowledge hurts. Yes, it makes the soul heavy. But it also arms you with vision, with clarity, with the power to walk into darkness and still carry the light. So let them say it: “Great knowledge brings great sorrow.” I’ll answer: “And sorrow, when endured, brings great strength.”
Read more