When He had finished His world, complete and whole, each thing in its place, the earth below and the heavens beyond,
. . . it was then that the Artist signed His holy name, a stillness within the busy painting, a vacuum in time, a pocket of silence within the polyphony, so that the Infinite Light could kiss the finite world, enter within and grant it life.
And He called that silence Shabbat.
Within each thing there is a Shabbat, a sense of wonder, of knowing that there is something greater, something it will never truly know, and a yearning to receive from there.
With that yearning, it receives life. Without it, nothing can survive.
For it is that emptiness that allows the Infinite to enter.