Balance.
So hard. It really is. For me, a full time working mom,I'm constantly in pursuit of balance, which to me is kind of funny because it's one more thing I have to do, but doing this one is a big deal. But over the last few weeks I've learned something about balance. Balance requires everything you have. If I don't give everything I have to what I'm doing, whether it's resting, reading, praying, playing, or something else, then I'm not balancing anything. I'm balancing half-things. And I'm, fortunately or unfortunately, not a half-things person. Balance isn't really eliminating things, it's about choosing which things are important enough to put closer to the fulcrum, to hold you down, and letting the others slide to the end of the lever, where if the important things take a shift, the less important things fall off. But it also means that those things on the end, when you look at them and use them, deserve your full attention too.
I've also learned something about rest. It's a term that's being thrown around a lot right now in the Christian-female-subculture (chew on THAT thought for a minute). Rest. What does it look like? And it's one of the things that I've been pursuing and I've learned something about the way I rest: I don't actually like being completely still or absent. What I mean when I say that is that I understand for some people rest is a nap in a hammock under a tree, or a walk on a beach, or the stillness of a fireside glass of wine. I get that. But I've discovered that resting, for me, doesn't always look like that.
Today, for the first time in months, I put my headphones on, looked at the environment I was trying to create, planned what I wanted to do, and then got into the lift and started doing it. I only got about a third or so done, but those 40 minutes or so that I was pulling lights, lining up cable, trying to figure out how to power something were maybe the most restful 40 minutes I've had in a couple of weeks. There wasn't anyone else there, and knowing that the absolute deadline was at least a day away, made the activity simple, leisurely, and not something that I was doing at a frenetic pace. It was great.
I started thinking about why 40 minutes of work could actually equal 40 minutes of rest and why every 40 minutes of work didn't equal 40 minutes of rest.
Jesus.
Either I'm delusional or I'm onto something here. When I serve Jesus, and not myself and not because I want to please other people, and I'm not serving my own pride or selfishness, when I am doing what He has called me to do, it can be rest. Don't get me wrong. Not every single thing Jesus calls me to is going to be restful. I get that. But I also get that serving Jesus can be rest for me. Rest for some can look like stillness, but for me, rest often looks like service because my heart changes when I serve my Jesus, whatever that looks like. My heart breaks and softens and grows and sees better. And so sometimes my rest looks like work. Sometimes it looks like making my husband dinner, especially just for him. Sometimes it looks like reading that book with my daughter for the 42nd time even though I hate it. Sometimes it looks like actually sitting still and watching TV or a movie, even though I struggle to enjoy either. But all the time rest looks like my Jesus calling me to come and be with Him, whether it means to sit in His presence or to work alongside Him. As it turns out, I just want to go where He's going. That's my rest.
So hard. It really is. For me, a full time working mom,I'm constantly in pursuit of balance, which to me is kind of funny because it's one more thing I have to do, but doing this one is a big deal. But over the last few weeks I've learned something about balance. Balance requires everything you have. If I don't give everything I have to what I'm doing, whether it's resting, reading, praying, playing, or something else, then I'm not balancing anything. I'm balancing half-things. And I'm, fortunately or unfortunately, not a half-things person. Balance isn't really eliminating things, it's about choosing which things are important enough to put closer to the fulcrum, to hold you down, and letting the others slide to the end of the lever, where if the important things take a shift, the less important things fall off. But it also means that those things on the end, when you look at them and use them, deserve your full attention too.
I've also learned something about rest. It's a term that's being thrown around a lot right now in the Christian-female-subculture (chew on THAT thought for a minute). Rest. What does it look like? And it's one of the things that I've been pursuing and I've learned something about the way I rest: I don't actually like being completely still or absent. What I mean when I say that is that I understand for some people rest is a nap in a hammock under a tree, or a walk on a beach, or the stillness of a fireside glass of wine. I get that. But I've discovered that resting, for me, doesn't always look like that.
Today, for the first time in months, I put my headphones on, looked at the environment I was trying to create, planned what I wanted to do, and then got into the lift and started doing it. I only got about a third or so done, but those 40 minutes or so that I was pulling lights, lining up cable, trying to figure out how to power something were maybe the most restful 40 minutes I've had in a couple of weeks. There wasn't anyone else there, and knowing that the absolute deadline was at least a day away, made the activity simple, leisurely, and not something that I was doing at a frenetic pace. It was great.
I started thinking about why 40 minutes of work could actually equal 40 minutes of rest and why every 40 minutes of work didn't equal 40 minutes of rest.
Jesus.
Either I'm delusional or I'm onto something here. When I serve Jesus, and not myself and not because I want to please other people, and I'm not serving my own pride or selfishness, when I am doing what He has called me to do, it can be rest. Don't get me wrong. Not every single thing Jesus calls me to is going to be restful. I get that. But I also get that serving Jesus can be rest for me. Rest for some can look like stillness, but for me, rest often looks like service because my heart changes when I serve my Jesus, whatever that looks like. My heart breaks and softens and grows and sees better. And so sometimes my rest looks like work. Sometimes it looks like making my husband dinner, especially just for him. Sometimes it looks like reading that book with my daughter for the 42nd time even though I hate it. Sometimes it looks like actually sitting still and watching TV or a movie, even though I struggle to enjoy either. But all the time rest looks like my Jesus calling me to come and be with Him, whether it means to sit in His presence or to work alongside Him. As it turns out, I just want to go where He's going. That's my rest.
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