On Sundays I Rest

I have never been good at resting. Sleeping, well, I have that nailed. But not resting. On the spectrum between Martha and Mary, I lean far towards Martha; the girl that races to complete the necessary tasks with dizzying speed.

But then I taught Genesis. Creation. Sabbath. Rest. And I never looked at Sundays the same way.

In a world that pressures us to do more, I want to break free to be more. Ironically, our becoming is hewn in the soft sands of stillness. Being still is one way to embrace my limited energy, and to declare that the Lord is my source. Isn’t it just like God to lovingly author our limited capacity as a means of transformation?

I can’t do it all. It just simply isn’t healthy to sprint through my tasks 7 days a week, 10 hours a day. No only has rest proved a necessary recharge, but rest reminds me that strivings are in competition with my soul, and embracing humility is for my healing.

So on Sundays I rest. I don’t clean. I don’t cook. I don’t do laundry. I don’t open social media.

You might look at this and wonder, why all the rules? Here is why. Because I have learned my soul is bent towards aspiration. Getting ahead. Conquering. Nothing is wrong with these things in submission to God’s authority, but when I survey my miniature kingdom upon a hill of productivity, I am apt to fall prey to Satan’s whispers of power and prestige. And I must fight this temptation.

So I fight with rest. In acknowledging my helplessness, I acknowledge my ultimate Help. I acknowledge I can do nothing, like really, nothing, without my God.

So what do I do on Sundays? I worship with my family. I serve at church. I read. I soak up time with my family.

I admit that I am weak, but He is strong.

Rest is a gift beyond reason. Don’t ever turn down a good gift. I hope you accept it!