I looked at Oso in the car last night on our way home from church and asked, "Are we crazy?"
"No," he replied. "They are."
Ah, right. Resting isn't crazy, it's human. We're really not made to go from event to event without a break in the middle, or to push our sleep into slots so small that we can't keep our eyes open most of the day.
If you want to know about resting, I can tell you about resting. Recovering from the flu requires a lot of resting, and so I have rested myself silly these last couple of weeks. As I've rested, I've noticed just how odd it is, in our culture, to actually set aside time to be still.
It's so out-of-the-0rdinary that I know some people who've had what I had who just pushed through. I talked to some of them last night, and they kept working, dancing, driving, etc., all the way through the illness. When I first heard that, I felt like such a wimp. I mean, I couldn't hardly walk around my house with my 102.5 degree fever, let alone go to work. And I felt so tired after work last week that I didn't even make my own husband a birthday cake (he wasn't upset), let alone go shopping or dancing or hanging out with people. Sheesh.
And then, it was like I saw the change in me. Me, the girl who almost passed out in high school because she was so sick that the heat from the Bunsen burner flame made her dizzy...the same girl who rode horses for years even though she's allergic to them and they make her sick. Right. That was the girl who wanted to rest last week, who didn't go to the gym because it felt like too much for her lungs, even when her legs really, really wanted to go.
God is so good. Rest is so good for the soul. It's opened so much space for me to be and breathe and experience God's goodness. While choosing rest means that sometimes I choose to miss out on other things, it's so rich and deep and good that I can't help but think it's part of what we're meant for.