In Genesis, creation didn’t end with doing.
It ended with seeing.
“And God saw all that He had made, and it was very good.”
There’s something holy about observation.
About stepping back just far enough to name what was, and what it meant.
When we don’t pause, we carry everything forward—blindly.
But when we step back, we begin to discern:
What needs to be kept.
What needs to be changed.
What needs to be released.
Shemita is a sacred interruption.
Not to undo what was, but to see it clearly—
So the next thing we build is not on top of the old,
But from the truth of what it taught us.
Redemption isn’t about starting over. It’s about remembering where you came from.
Yovel—the Jubilee year—is not just a reset.
It’s a return.
To land. To identity. To the One who never left.
It reminds us that we don’t own as much as we think.
That the land, the story, even our breath—it’s all borrowed.
And every so often, we’re called to give it back.
To loosen our grip. To return what was never fully ours.
Including the narratives that no longer serve who we’re becoming.
This kind of freedom doesn’t come from release alone.
It comes from remembering:
You were never meant to stay enslaved.
Not to people.
Not to systems.
Not to the voice in your head that says, “You have to earn your way back.”
You already belong.
Yovel just helps you remember.
Add comment
Comments