I do a lot of running on the Cross-County Trail, which stretches some 40 miles in Northern Virginia, from Great Falls down to the Occoquan River. I hope to see it all sooner or later, but the part near my house is the bit I know well. The trail crosses a stream at various points, which means I have hopped across these many times:
After doing some digging, I've discovered that Fairfax County calls these fair-weather crossings. Such a charming term! I've come to call them my Sabbath stones, because they strike me as symbols of the spiritual practice that's become so important to me and my family.
Life is like that creek: at times it is lazy, as in the picture above. But there's another place where the creek flows down a small hill. At the bottom it rushes and pushes against those pillars. And they have to be strong enough, anchored enough, to bear the force of all that water.
That's what Sabbath is for me: the sturdy stones that allow me to navigate the deluge.
Perhaps you have other practices or disciplines that function in a similar way---that give you a reliable place to stand when the waters threaten to overwhelm you... I'd love to know what those are.