I recently had one of those moments a parent has or someone who knows a little kid has when all of the sudden a game or toy or activity they couldn’t do before clicks and now they can. I was watching our 3.5 year old put shaped blocks into a bin with a lid that had matching shapes—requiring the child to make the square block fit exactly as the square hole is laid out, e.g. He did it with no problem at all and perhaps had been for some time—I don’t honestly know. But in that moment what hit me was not only his adeptness but how recently it seems (though likely isn’t) that that same toy was a source of frustration for him.
Try to cram a square toy into a circular hole or a triangular toy into a diamond-shaped hole is how I feel like I am trying to live my life from time to time in these days. This was especially true as we navigated the new reality presented by the COVID-19 pandemic. Trying to work, adapt the church’s life (its worship and teaching and outreach), parent, and just survive in an upside down world just about drained me completely. None of this even mentions the racial unrest and cries for justice, climate decline manifested in countless ways, watching folks I love adapt major life celebrations and milestones, being cut off from family and friends, and more. I was attempting to take the square-shaped toy of my life and cram it into a completely different shaped hole that was like one none of us had ever seen. I believed that the trick that our world tells us constantly: our value, our worth, our identity is in our busyness and our productivity. And, I was tired and grumpy and anxious.
Whenever I am off of work I will frequently turn off email notifications; I’m sure plenty of folks do that. That used to be enough of a get away to have some rest. But recently I also decided to step away from social media while I was off work and on vacation and it was among the most rest-filled and rejuvenated I have been in these days. It has become one of the most sustaining intentional practices of my life in these days.
We live in a world that makes constant demands of us: produce more, be more, be better and—actually—be perfect. In this kind of world, rest is revolutionary. Taking a break, saying enough, stepping away for a time is life-changing. In doing so, we claim God’s eternal promise for each of us: our identity is found only in God, our belovedness is immeasurable and unimaginable and cannot be increased or earned or lost. When let ourselves rest in our belovedness, we set down the scarcity that can drive our lives and know that we are enough because we are.
So, put down Facebook, step away from the news, and set down yet another political article. Take a walk, sit down for longer than normal, take some deep breaths and let God’s abundant love for you be that which sustains you and leads you on. Having the ability to do this is a tremendous privilege and so we must devote our lives ensuring that everyone has access to the care and pay and resources they need so that they too can rest their bodies and their souls.
Join the restful revolution with me; I promise there will be no emails.