Rest
R. E. S. T. It is 4:30 PM and my family is home with me from all the day’s activities. Each of us is in his or her own quiet corner of this apartment. The day is winding down and I am sitting down in my chair. My reading, thinking, “taking it easy” chair. This is new for me. A far cry from where I was a year ago, or in years’ past. The summer heat is still stifling outside this window, brightly blazing with the sun’s light and energy. But inside me, a new season has arrived. A season of rest which I know not how long it will last but that it is definitely here.
My feet are up on the beige ottoman I purchased at a discount price from Target - no doubt on one of those busy days from time past. My feet are up! I am winding down. This is new for me. I feel anxious for nothing at this moment. I find myself mindfully aware of the golden setting sunlight streaming in this room through my blinds - in the shape of long bars. The air circulating here is cool and the white noise is pleasant.
In the stillness of my soul, I feel the Great Comforter urging me to rest in this moment. He is telling me that this resting moment is me at his feet, indulging in the rest he has brought me in this new season. Instead of the spinning tilt-a-whirl that life can be (and has been for me) at 4:30pm, he beckons me to green pastures and still waters.
He knew I needed this. After the last 14 months, I need this. Heck, after the last 14 years, I need this. After the last nearly 40 years, I need this. I will always need the rest he provides. It will not always be at 4:30pm in my favorite chair with feet propped. But it will come. He will provide. Just as I plan diligently for my own children’s naps and bedtimes, so the Good Father plans seasons of rest for me. And I must take them. I will take this one. For I know that soon enough, yea, I may walk through a shadowy valley; I may feast with my enemies; I may be anointed for his sacred service.
And, too, I know that his goodness and mercy - including seasons of rest - will follow me all my days.
