A Need for Rest

A theme throughout my time of sabbatical has been the act of breaking and rebuilding. Behaviors, thought patterns, perspectives, mechanisms of comfort, ways I see my own character; all my previously held beliefs have crumbled around me, lending me to the artful process of rebuilding. This stripping away of things I held as truth has been difficult, but in these consistent small acts of obedience, the daily recommitment to learning and growth, I have gained knowledge and truth through deep revelations. 

One of these truthful perspective changes has come centered on the idea of rest, and how culture and religion and all our other pillars of truth shape the way we view it. The act of rest is both biblical and cultural as we tap into the human need to take time to refill as we pour out for others. Whether we use the words Sabbath or self care, we speak of the importance of resting our bodies and minds. But as I stepped into a season that demanded this of me, I realized both our culture and the common church don’t really support and value ‘rest’ as much as they claim to. 

Culturally, we speak of needing to rest but reward busy-ness. The more we fill our time the higher status we seem to achieve, and the more praise we receive as a result. Even sayings like, “you do so much, I don’t know how you do it.” Or, “I could never do all that you are.” Any mix of this phrase results in feelings of praise for how busy you keep yourself, like your endurance holds more value than your peace of mind. In churches, we are told of the Sabbath and the importance of setting aside time to spend with God, but even this time alone with God comes with a to-do list. By the time we have checked off our daily scripture reading, our laundry list prayers, and our worship song or two, what time have we left for stillness and the open-handedness to listen to God’s response. And while all of these things are good, they aren’t necessarily resting. Even our activities in church come with a pressure to lead a new small group, attend service every Sunday, volunteer our time in service both inside and outside the walls of our church building, and soon, “resting” becomes a less appropriate way to spend our time. If we wouldn’t feel comfortable responding to an ask to serve with, “I’m sorry, I have prioritized resting during this time,” then can we really say the idea of rest is valued in our culture? In our churches?

I was afraid to rest. I was terrified at the thought of slowing down enough to sit with my thoughts and emotions, ones I had successfully ignored for too long through my accomplished lifestyle of busy-ness. To ease myself into this season of stillness and quiet I began with routines. Meditation, movement through yoga, reading and prayer, a daily act of creativity, and this was necessary for me. It didn’t take long before I no longer needed activities to prompt me to rest, and began just tuning into what my body and mind needed most. Maybe a movie, or a good book, or some form of movement like yoga or walking, maybe it did look like reading scripture or praying to God. What I learned was that it matters less what you do in your time of rest in stillness, and more that you just commit to taking a time apart from the world to tune into your needs. Because the thing is, taking this time to rest and turn inward is absolutely vital. It isn’t a luxury or laziness or something to get to one day, it is the most important thing we can do right now, right where you are, and trusting that God will meet you with healing and recovery in it. I have learned time and again that there are things God simply cannot teach you if not in stillness.

I heard God most clearly recently driving home from seeing a movie. I was exhausted after working 9.5 hours and decided to see a movie instead of the list of productive things I *should* have done instead. I saw a movie, popcorn and all, and afterwards finished my ‘dinner’ with frozen yogurt, extra chocolate sprinkles. Nothing about my night was productive by most standards and on my way home, as I listened to WAMO instead of KLOVE, God spoke. In one of the most clear examples of God speaking to me in the past month or so She said I was exactly where I needed to be. I was brought to the depths of trauma and pain and brokenness in this season because I would not be able to truly speak value and love to others without experiencing their pain for myself. I needed Haiti and these years to humble me, to bring me low, to a point where there was nothing except my own solitude, and no one to cling to but God. And though I’m paraphrasing I was reminded of the closeness I felt to God in my loneliest months and years in Haiti and then I heard the words “I am still right here,” repeated loudly. I replied in prayer and felt a closeness to God I have longed for recently. I also felt that this was not something to be taken lightly, but an encounter to be held in reverence and high respect.

It doesn’t matter what our rest looks like. It isn’t a check list or a thing to accomplish, we cannot just go through the motions and say we are resting. We must tune in to what our body needs from us and trust God to meet us there, in our open hearted stillness. The crucial thing here is you don’t know it’s too late until it’s too late. You are not grateful for your health until you lose it, you take for granted your solid ground until it gives way beneath you, you don’t appreciate peace until a storm has passed; you can’t. But you can rest now. You can stop the business long enough each day to read something impactful or meditate and feel God’s presence, or to binge watch a little netflix, just to listen to your body and rest in the ways it is asking you to, and make this a priority now before it becomes something you realize too late that you had taken for granted. When our culture and our churches ask us to extend ourselves beyond our reach, we have to take responsibility to meet our own needs, and to take the time we need to rest, to play, to slow down like our lives depend on it.