This has been my view today...4 dead composers, staring me down with an invitation to rest...
It’s been a full month, a busy month, a fun month, a draining month. I’ve welcomed new students to campus, I’ve married off incredible friends, I’ve encouraged and challenged student leaders, I’ve preached, I’ve made more mistakes in my role as team leader than I’ve made in my entire life. I’ve felt a mixture of tired and excited, inadequate and fulfilled, stressed and energized, and I’ve cried both from sadness and joy. I’ve been stretched and challenged and excited in so many ways that my brain and soul feel like they are about ready to go into hibernation.
And so today, I decided that I needed to actually rest.
But here’s the thing: when I woke up in the morning, I was real tired. Consequently, the ideal “resting” day sounded like one where I didn’t move from my bed except to eat any food in the world that sounded appealing (read *unhealthy everything*)… a day where I watched the next 7 episodes of Grey’s Anatomy to find out if Meredith survives her near-drowning incident…a day where my laundry laid around undone and I skipped church and my room stayed messy and I didn't talk to anyone and I didn’t even really shower.
And if my day wasn't going to be about all those things, I figured I might as well just shove down my feelings of tiredness and get to work on work...on emails, talk-writing, and meeting preparation for my week. Maybe if I work hard today I’ll forget that I’m tired, I wondered.
Obviously, both potential decisions were magnificently brilliant!
(Or not.)
And so, in that moment while I laid in bed, contemplating this compelling list of utterly terrible ideas, I remembered wise words from a good friend: “We have to do the hard work of resting well.”
All of those other things that I contemplated doing today? The TV-drowning and the lots-of-eating and the complete lounging? I might kid myself that those are "restful," but in reality, they're simply numbing. They don't heal and refresh my soul, they just numb it. As for working even more? In a way, that's numbing, too...it shuts off the part of my mind, heart, and body that are calling out to be tended to. And so even in that, I numb myself instead of restoring myself.
The hard work of resting well? Isn't that oxymoronic?
You see, crawling out of bed and eating a healthy breakfast was hard work this morning.
Choosing to spend time in prayer and Scripture and journaling was hard work this morning.
Resisting checking my email was hard work this morning.
Sucking it up and going on a run was hard work this morning.
Taking a shower and throwing clothes in the laundry was hard work.
And writing this blog post? Yeah…as I’m writing it, I’m partially wishing I was just drowning
myself in Grey’s Anatomy (but Meredith is already drowning, so we probably shouldn’t both
be in the ocean…).
God has called us, even commanded us, to rest. The Sabbath is a commandment, and even God rested after creating the entire universe. So who am I to think that the universe can't possibility function without MY presence? But, more on a theology of Sabbath another day...for today, here is my question:
Why is it so hard to rest well? Why is it so hard to stop working and actually rest? Why it is so hard to not choose “numbing” rest and instead choose life-giving rest?
Shockingly, Sir Isaac Newton's Laws of Motion come to mind. (Cue rejoicing from the Choir of Scientist Angels... folks, I actually am related to my science teacher dad!)
The short version of these three laws is that when we are already going in one direction, we keep going in that direction unless something big changes our direction. The bigger (or older) we are, the harder it is to change. And, when change does happen, an equal amount of resistance to that changes ensues. (How did I do, Dad?!)
What does this have to do with our struggles in choosing life-giving rest instead of numbing rest or numbing work?
Well. The short answer, and the most accurate answer, is that Newton's Laws show us that any change in motion requires work. Choosing not to "work" is work. Choosing to resist a numbing day of food, TV, isolation, and complaining...that's work. And it's normal to feel that way.
On top of the fact that it often feels like "work" to choose to spend time with God, to have a real conversation with a friend, or to choose to eat a healthy meal or exercise...we are met with the fact that we are now grown-ups, meaning it is harder for us to change directions. (Newton would say our mass is heavier...I just say we're getting old). It's harder to reset our patterns of work and rest when we are grown-ups. So it's normal to feel like choosing rest is hard.
And finally, on top of those two things, it turns out that we are met with resistance when we try to change directions...when we try to rest well. Numbing rest often doesn't result in much resistance...my body doesn't really resist laying on the couch walking Grey's Anatomy! It does, however, resist going on a walk with a good friend. "But I'm tired!" I say to myself..."I don't want to." It's normal to feel resistance when we choose a change in motion and choose rest. Newton says so.
Resting well is hard work, indeed.
Throughout the morning and afternoon, I’ve had the running dialogue in my head of
“Time with God is good for your soul right now, even if you don’t want to do it. So do it.”
“Blogging will care well for your intellect right now, even if you don’t want to do it. So do it.”
“Your physical body needs a good run right now, even if you don’t want to do. So go.”
“Your heart will be filled if you have a good phone conversation today, even if you’re tired. So pick
up the phone and call.”
“You need good time in community today, even if you don’t feel like seeing humanity. So yeah, go
to church, girl.”
So I am working hard at resting well today, and thanks to Newton, I know that this is normal and okay. This isn't to say that I won't watch Grey's at some point today. I will. I'll probably also have a pumpkin spice Hershey kiss at some point and read some Harry Potter. These aren't inherently bad things...they just can't be done as forms of "numbing rest" or "escapist rest." Instead, I can be mindful in making them source of rejuvenation and healthy rest.
And so far, I am resting well today. My soul feels more refreshed, my body more alert, and my laugh is even coming easier as the day goes on. The hard work of resting well, indeed.
So Reader Folks. Rest well. Even when it's hard work.
And so today, I decided that I needed to actually rest.
But here’s the thing: when I woke up in the morning, I was real tired. Consequently, the ideal “resting” day sounded like one where I didn’t move from my bed except to eat any food in the world that sounded appealing (read *unhealthy everything*)… a day where I watched the next 7 episodes of Grey’s Anatomy to find out if Meredith survives her near-drowning incident…a day where my laundry laid around undone and I skipped church and my room stayed messy and I didn't talk to anyone and I didn’t even really shower.
And if my day wasn't going to be about all those things, I figured I might as well just shove down my feelings of tiredness and get to work on work...on emails, talk-writing, and meeting preparation for my week. Maybe if I work hard today I’ll forget that I’m tired, I wondered.
Obviously, both potential decisions were magnificently brilliant!
(Or not.)
And so, in that moment while I laid in bed, contemplating this compelling list of utterly terrible ideas, I remembered wise words from a good friend: “We have to do the hard work of resting well.”
All of those other things that I contemplated doing today? The TV-drowning and the lots-of-eating and the complete lounging? I might kid myself that those are "restful," but in reality, they're simply numbing. They don't heal and refresh my soul, they just numb it. As for working even more? In a way, that's numbing, too...it shuts off the part of my mind, heart, and body that are calling out to be tended to. And so even in that, I numb myself instead of restoring myself.
The hard work of resting well? Isn't that oxymoronic?
You see, crawling out of bed and eating a healthy breakfast was hard work this morning.
Choosing to spend time in prayer and Scripture and journaling was hard work this morning.
Resisting checking my email was hard work this morning.
Sucking it up and going on a run was hard work this morning.
Taking a shower and throwing clothes in the laundry was hard work.
And writing this blog post? Yeah…as I’m writing it, I’m partially wishing I was just drowning
myself in Grey’s Anatomy (but Meredith is already drowning, so we probably shouldn’t both
be in the ocean…).
God has called us, even commanded us, to rest. The Sabbath is a commandment, and even God rested after creating the entire universe. So who am I to think that the universe can't possibility function without MY presence? But, more on a theology of Sabbath another day...for today, here is my question:
Why is it so hard to rest well? Why is it so hard to stop working and actually rest? Why it is so hard to not choose “numbing” rest and instead choose life-giving rest?
Shockingly, Sir Isaac Newton's Laws of Motion come to mind. (Cue rejoicing from the Choir of Scientist Angels... folks, I actually am related to my science teacher dad!)
The short version of these three laws is that when we are already going in one direction, we keep going in that direction unless something big changes our direction. The bigger (or older) we are, the harder it is to change. And, when change does happen, an equal amount of resistance to that changes ensues. (How did I do, Dad?!)
What does this have to do with our struggles in choosing life-giving rest instead of numbing rest or numbing work?
Well. The short answer, and the most accurate answer, is that Newton's Laws show us that any change in motion requires work. Choosing not to "work" is work. Choosing to resist a numbing day of food, TV, isolation, and complaining...that's work. And it's normal to feel that way.
On top of the fact that it often feels like "work" to choose to spend time with God, to have a real conversation with a friend, or to choose to eat a healthy meal or exercise...we are met with the fact that we are now grown-ups, meaning it is harder for us to change directions. (Newton would say our mass is heavier...I just say we're getting old). It's harder to reset our patterns of work and rest when we are grown-ups. So it's normal to feel like choosing rest is hard.
And finally, on top of those two things, it turns out that we are met with resistance when we try to change directions...when we try to rest well. Numbing rest often doesn't result in much resistance...my body doesn't really resist laying on the couch walking Grey's Anatomy! It does, however, resist going on a walk with a good friend. "But I'm tired!" I say to myself..."I don't want to." It's normal to feel resistance when we choose a change in motion and choose rest. Newton says so.
Resting well is hard work, indeed.
Throughout the morning and afternoon, I’ve had the running dialogue in my head of
“Time with God is good for your soul right now, even if you don’t want to do it. So do it.”
“Blogging will care well for your intellect right now, even if you don’t want to do it. So do it.”
“Your physical body needs a good run right now, even if you don’t want to do. So go.”
“Your heart will be filled if you have a good phone conversation today, even if you’re tired. So pick
up the phone and call.”
“You need good time in community today, even if you don’t feel like seeing humanity. So yeah, go
to church, girl.”
So I am working hard at resting well today, and thanks to Newton, I know that this is normal and okay. This isn't to say that I won't watch Grey's at some point today. I will. I'll probably also have a pumpkin spice Hershey kiss at some point and read some Harry Potter. These aren't inherently bad things...they just can't be done as forms of "numbing rest" or "escapist rest." Instead, I can be mindful in making them source of rejuvenation and healthy rest.
And so far, I am resting well today. My soul feels more refreshed, my body more alert, and my laugh is even coming easier as the day goes on. The hard work of resting well, indeed.
So Reader Folks. Rest well. Even when it's hard work.