My husband’s phone beeps and my body tenses with dread. I look at Brian’s reddened eyes as they strain to focus on the screen. It’s his day off, and he hasn’t had any semblance of Sabbath in a while, so I worry about how long he can keep this up.
“It’s a couple I met at the hotel,” he explains. “The trailer park won’t take them. They’re homeless again, so I need to see what we can do.”
“OK,” I say. I wonder if I should stop him and remind him of boundaries and self-care. But then I recall that the Sabbath is when Jesus healed a withered hand, the disciples picked grain, and a worker led his donkey out of the ditch. This couple surely deserves as much attention.
