Handling Rest (continued).

I find myself writing a lot about wanting to find peace and stillness, the struggle of finding acceptance within myself and encouraging others to do the same, the endless feeling of keeping up, and general life observations. I recognize that my posts have a lot of the same themes running through them, and sometimes I hear that my dear readers have been sitting next to me in the same boat.

You are my homeslices for life, friends.

Exploding fist bumps for all of you. 

There is a part of me that wants to write and drink coffee and think about all the things with other thinkers.  I want to wallow in the deep and the hard and the beautiful things of this world.  I want to soak it all up and weave words and tell tales.  My personality tends to observe and take in and think and I need a place to safely set it all down and let my brain rest for a while.  Writing helps me digest the world around me a little better, and I am always surprised and blessed when you choose to sit with me for a while.  And I am so encouraged when I read that you have been encouraged, too.

But then, the killjoy and realistic part of me steps in and reminds me that I have a career and three kids and a husband and a camp and church and a personal life and laundry.  I don't have time to drink another cup of coffee and wax poetic because there is a whole list of other things I need to do.

Right. Now.   

So, I tuck in my dreams for another round of sleep and another little piece of my heart breaks because I'm not able to do all the things a superwoman should be able to do in a 24-hour day.

I've been laying low for a few days this week following a small procedure.  I'm fine and I will be fine, but I need some time to rest and recover.  My body has reminded me that while there are no external scars from this event, I have to slow down to let myself heal from the inside out.  I'm tired and achy and have had to take it easy (which is like asking me not to breathe).  My parents were able to come and help Chris take care of the bustling activity around the house(s) and camp.  I have spent a few days in the bed or on the couch, sleeping and trying to not supervise everything that has happened or needed to happen in the house.  It has taken some effort to keep myself from jumping up to get in the mix of everything, even under the influence of post-procedure narcotics.

Because I don't know how to be still. 

This morning we are expecting a little bit of snow and while many of my friends are anti-school makeup days, I am quietly waiting with anticipation for the sky to open.  Eastern NC snow brings permission to slow down, and I welcome it with open arms.  It's a shame that a rare weather event is about the only time I give myself time and space to be still, but when it comes around I let myself indulge in all of its goodness.

I'd rather have snow than chocolate.  

I may even love snow more than french fries. 

But Christmas, Disney World, and big snows are forever tied for best.

These days at home, in our new space, have awakened a lot of familiar feelings in my soul.  There is a deep stirring to claim the person I was created to be, rather than trying to stuff myself into uncomfortable labels.  Somehow I have to find a way to make it all work, and even that thought makes me roll my eyes at myself.  I have to decide to let some things go.  I have to continuously give myself permission, even when it's 50 degrees and sunny.   

There is physical rest, like I wrote about in my previous post--and then there are things that bring your soul rest.  In my mind, rest for the soul feels like finding that sweet spot of who you've been created to be and making choices to cultivate that place.  It's opening your eyes and accepting your strengths and faults and using them for the greater good around you.  It's listening to what your heart is whispering (and screaming) when you are not in your best fit, and it's what makes you come alive when you make the time to do it.  

I'm starting to feel like we make the art of living too hard sometimes.  There has got to be an easier way to stop taking on all the burdens and jobs and responsibilities, and finally accepting the fact that we weren't created to save the entire world.  I know the Truth, and I accept it as Truth, but I have a hard time putting it into practice.  I'm not good at setting down my burdens and I'm not good at accepting less than perfection.  I have to learn accept my shortcomings, and I have to remember that letting go of my pride and self-worth is all part of dying to self.        

My soul, wait in silence for God only,
For my hope is from Him.
He only is my rock and my salvation,
My stronghold; I shall not be shaken.
On God my salvation and my glory rest;
The rock of my strength, my refuge is in God.
 Trust in Him at all times, O people;
Pour out your heart before Him;
God is a refuge for us.

Psalm 62:5-8 NASB