Six Days to Empty-"DTE 47"

Six Days to Empty-DTE 47 miles

The Warning

Roger's weathered hands gripped his coffee mug as he watched Dillon check his minivan before their weekly grocery run. Twenty-three years in humanitarian aid had taught Roger to notice details-the way Dillon's eyes automatically found the dashboard display glowing amber: DTE: 47 miles.

"Distance 'Til Empty," Dillon explained, catching Roger's curious glance. "Saved me from being stranded more times than I can count. Amazing how we ignore warning lights until it's too late."

Roger nodded, his mind drifting to the refugee camps in South Sudan, the earthquake zones in Haiti, the flood plains of across Cox’s Bazar in Bangladesh. He'd ignored plenty of warning lights in his own life-the tremor in his hands after too many eighteen-hour days, the sleepless nights that blurred into anxious mornings, the growing distance from everything that once brought him joy.

That evening at Auntie Ethel's Friday gathering, the small circle of neighbours settled into well-worn chairs as Dillon opened his worn-out Bible to Exodus. "Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy," he read aloud. "Six days you shall labour and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God."

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room. Roger shifted, thinking of his laptop upstairs, emails that never stopped coming from the relief organization he still consulted for.

"You know," Dillon continued, "I was thinking about that DTE warning in my van. God knew something about human nature when He gave this command. After six days, we're running on empty-emotionally, spiritually & physically. The Sabbath isn't punishment for being lazy. It's a gift. A divine warning light."

Mrs. Henderson, their elderly neighbour, smiled knowingly. "I learned that the hard way. Took a heart attack at sixty-two to slow me down enough to hear what God was trying to tell me."

As Roger walked home through the quiet suburban streets, maize fields rustling in the gentle evening breeze, he thought about warning lights he'd ignored. The ninth commandment against lying, the eighth against stealing-those seemed straightforward. But this fourth commandment felt different, more personal. More necessary than he'd ever imagined.

His phone buzzed. Another urgent email from Nairobi. His finger hovered over it, then slowly, deliberately, he powered it off.

Jesus had said, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. “[Matt 11:28] Roger was beginning to understand that rest wasn't the absence of purpose-it was the presence of trust. Trust that the world wouldn't collapse without his constant effort. Trust that God was bigger than any crisis requiring his immediate attention.

For the first time in decades, Roger chose to let someone else carry the weight until Monday.

The Wayfarer’ Reflection

I was just wondering, when did you and I last ignore our spiritual "DTE" warning? God's gift of Sabbath isn't about rules-it's about relationship. He knows we need regular reminders that His grace, not our endless striving, sustains the world. What would change if you and I trusted Him enough to truly rest? Something that keeps coming back to my mind as I take my morning walks, remembering my old friend, and colleague Roger Craig.