Sometimes we revert back to being doers. We fix our eyes on what’s being done and what’s being left undone. We tell ourselves that if we aren’t accomplishing something worthwhile in the moment that we are gradually losing our worth.
We run our ragged selves into the ground, just trying to pay the bills and get by.
We earn money to spend it, and the cycle returns, with or without our approval.
But haven’t we forgotten something?
Our Heavenly Father labored for six days and then put down his tools, closed His wearied eyes and told the work to wait.
He refused to let work define him, but rather was defined by his love poured out over coffee with the wounded and the weary.
He was defined by his love poured out in tepid water, washing the feet of his few good men, dirtied by selfish sins; the ones that followed Him at times, and then ran from Him at other times.
He was defined by love poured out through spoken word among the shoved aside, the broken hearts deemed undeserving of a second chance.
Jesus wasn’t defined by his work.
He was defined by his love.
And when His spirit needed to rest, to shut down for a while, He put down his tools and chose to just be.
I’m the guilty one. I often refuse to let myself rest. I tell myself that if I’m not crossing things off lists that I’m taking up space.
And while lists are made to be crossed out- there is a time for everything.
No matter how much I refuse to lay down, to rest, my body was made for it.
My soul will give.
I will break.
My feet that are quick to run to and fro will stop.
I’ll have to choose to sit and be still with coffee instead of wracking my brain over the undone.
I’ll have to rest.
We are battle-scared, but battle-ready and sometimes the best thing we can do is choose to lie down when there’s still light, and let the Spirit intervene on our behalf.
We have to rest. Something has to give.
You weren’t made to be superwoman, carrying the entire world on your shoulders, heaving baggage after baggage of others upon your heart, and tending to heart and home every single minute.
You were made to be a bearer of love, love poured out.
You were made to realize that some days you just need to not even try to reckon with your weaknesses, but rather release them into your Father’s hands- to be all the more used.
You will bend.
You will break.
And something’s got to give. You can’t do everything and no one ever asked you to.
So go. Empty yourself to be filled again.
And then when your body and soul cry out to you for rest, heed it.
Sit in stillness, lay down when it’s still light, and remind yourself how beautiful you are, and how worthy you are to be known.