On a scale of 0-5, I'd say I'm at about a 2. It turns out, I wasn't ever good at resting, even when I thought I was. I just had a lot more time to kinda rest. Now that I only get like an hour at the very end of the day to have any sort of me-time, I actually have to try. [I'm not good at trying.]
So becoming a mom was like a slap in the face while having a bucket of icy water thrown on you while falling desperately in love at the same time. And that happened every day for the six weeks after the first two weeks (the first two weeks didn't count for me; Stephen was off or only working part time, and E slept most of the time anyway). This business of getting to do what I wanted was absolutely gone in a way I really didn't understand before. But how can you? Everything in your whole life changes forever. I knew I was selfish before, but wow. Motherhood is crazy. Even if the Lord took Ezra to Heaven, there is no going back to being a not-mom.
Okay, back to rest. I should make it clear that I'm talking about real rest. Not how much sleep I got, but how much I was resting in the Lord - allowing Him to be my strength, leaning on Him, trusting Him, not being all anxious and crazy or lazy and good-for-nothing. I kind of went into a spiritual coma for the first three months. It was a bit like falling down a well on a warm, sunny day. It's somewhat dark and not terribly unpleasant, but you know you can't stay there forever, and it's gonna be hard to get out.
And it has been. I'm happy to say I actually started working on it in earnest a few weeks ago. And now I have genuinely restful days. Maybe one or two a week, but still. I feel so good after those days.
Today was not a restful day. I spent a lot of it frustrated and out-of-love. I think of it like baths. I hated bathing growing up, HATED it. But then I'd step in the shower or bath and never want to get out. But still, when it was bath-time again, I'd put it off as much as possible. And let me tell you, a rag-bath is not a bath. Just like a rag-bath day is not a bath day. You get through both, but one is wonderful and the other just kind of does the job. And yet, even the day after a gorgeous bath day, I'm right back to the rag baths until I get sick of it again.
Okay, I didn't write this to be down on myself. The Lord isn't upset with me; He told me so, and I'd be an idiot to call Him a liar. We're getting out of this together. I have confidence that, at some point in my future, every day will be a bath day for me.
It's good to know I'm not the only one. I always feel like finding rest in God is the last thing I want to do (oddly, I can never put my finger on why), but somewhere in the far back of my mind, I know it's what I really need, and when it does happen, it's always good.
ReplyDeleteBut I think it's because it always involves me letting go of something, or opening up some part of my heart to God—I think that's why I always put it off until I can't stand it anymore.
It's like when you would skin your knee as a kid, and your mom would be trying to clean it and put a band-aid on it, but you wouldn't take your hand off of it. She'd say "take your hand off, let me see it so I can clean it." But when you had your hand on it, it didn't hurt quite as much, and you knew that if you took your hand off, the air would sting. But you also knew she was right, and you trusted her, but you just didn't want to let go.
"I kind of went into a spiritual coma for the first three months. It was a bit like falling down a well on a warm, sunny day. It's somewhat dark and not terribly unpleasant, but you know you can't stay there forever, and it's gonna be hard to get out."
ReplyDeleteI totally know what you mean.
I need to do an update too, althought lately words have not been working for me! I love that your word is rest. I am still learning what it means to rest in the Lord so I love your insight here.
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