Reflecting on the deeper meaning of holidays, I would like to go with this idea: Holidays—these sacred pauses in the relentless rhythm of our daily toil—are far more than mere breaks in the calendar. They are rituals of remembrance, windows into restorations and mirrors for the soul.
Holidays tether us to the roots of culture and memory. The very first holiday in human history was not man-made—it was God-ordained. On the seventh day of creation, God rested, not from exhaustion, but to bless time itself (cf. Exodus 20:8–10). The Sabbath teaches us that rest is not laziness—it is holiness. It is not a reward for productivity, but a commandment rooted in love. Just as holidays pause the rush of the year, the Sabbath pauses the rush of the week—inviting us to live not by our doing, but by our being. They remind us of who we are, where we come from, and what we choose to honor. Whether through ancient rituals or modern gatherings, they offer a rhythm that connects generations across time.
Next, in a world that demands speed and efficiency, holidays are sacred interruptions. They grant us permission to pause, to breathe, to realign our inner compass. True rest is not idleness, but restoration of meaning and or the Self. In a world that idolizes busyness, the Sabbath is a form of spiritual protest. It says: You are not a machine. You are not your output. You are a soul, worthy of peace. The same message echoes in holidays today—when rightly understood. They are not just consumer breaks, but sacred acts of freedom from the tyranny of endless striving.
Furthermore, holidays are our chance to reconnect with Others. Beyond the gifts and feasts lies the invitation to presence. Holidays are a chance to see—not just look at—those we love. In shared meals and laughter, in quiet moments and long-forgotten stories, we find the invisible threads that bind us. Holidays and the Sabbath alike are meant to be shared, not hoarded. In Jewish tradition, the Sabbath is welcomed like a queen, a guest of honor. Families gather, candles are lit, songs are sung. It is a celebration of presence—of God’s, and of one another’s.
This is the essence of every true holiday: to be fully with—with God, with loved ones, with ourselves.
Dear friend,
When the noise of productivity ceases, gratitude has room to grow. A holiday, even if brief, is a sacred space where we can ask: What matters most? What have I gained, and what can I give? So, when you celebrate a holiday, you are not just taking time off. You are entering sacred time.
Let’s make our days of resting sacred and meaningful, not just exhausted or tired.
We will see how we can make it in part 2.
With love and prayers,
Little-pencil
Little-pencil 