If we do not allow for a rhythm of rest in our overly busy lives, illness becomes our Sabbath—our pneumonia, our cancer, our heart attack, our accidents create Sabbath for us. Wayne Muller, Sabbath I am as certain of some things as I am about the lines on my face. But on most days, I have more questions than answers. Crouching down in the opening underneath the bathroom sink, I scour through hair spray, brushes, and cosmetics, looking for a curling iron, when a still, small voice wisps through my