Rest, Part 2
Rest, Part 3
Since the last post, I have been more and more normal. It's starting to sink in: This medicine really is working. I really can concretely plan instead of merely hoping and dreaming. I can say "I'm going to do something" and then actually do it, instead of just saying it to bolster a positive frame of mind. One one hand, this is good, because I'm learning how not to be paralyzed. On the other hand, it was sure a lot easier to rely on God when I was paralyzed. I need to be very careful to accept God's leadership, even with my newfound energy.
My greatest struggle so far has been laziness. It's not that I don't want to make dinner or have a clean house or get projects done. The laziness is borne from fear. "If I start a project and don't finish it, I will be too discouraged to do anything else." "Doing this project may exhaust me to the point where I won't be able to make dinner or do anything else." "I can't decide which project to work on; what if I choose the wrong one?"
These worries may seem silly in print, but in my head they are so paralyzing that they influence me to watch Biggest Loser on Netflix all day. (Yes, ironic, since Biggest Loser is about achieving goals - but if I can't achieve mine, I can at least live vicariously through others who do!) These worries, though very real and valid, also miss the point:
"If I start a project and don't finish it, I will be too discouraged to do anything else." This is what happens when I view my day as one huge goal with multiple sub-goals, instead of one small goal at a time. If my day is one huge goal, then everything I accomplish will still be considered a failure if I don't conquer the whole day. Worse, I am less likely to accomplish sub-goals because I am looking up the mountain as I'm hiking, and not at the path in front of me. Every step I take brings me closer to the goal, but I don't see the steps as obedience or accomplishments; I see them as means to another goal.
What happens is, I'm not thanking God for getting me through the small steps; I'm just asking him to help me finish my to-do list. I'm also developing a habit that says "If I feel discouraged, I can't do things." Depression is one thing, a truly paralyzing illness that sometimes keeps me from doing things. But I have a healthy mind now, and I can learn to deal with discouragement
Yesterday's sermon touched on an element that had me wildly scribbling down a rabbit trail in my journal. The sermon was on Matthew 28:16-20 which is known as the Great Commission, the commandment for the primary work for Christians: to preach the gospel.
(Tangent here: We are to evangelize and preach the gospel, but I was wondering how other kinds of work fit into it. How does me scrubbing the toilet preach the gospel? Or my husband going to work? Then I remembered a phrase Tommy, our pastor, often uses when we take communion: We do it to preach the gospel to ourselves. Heck, we need the gospel too! So when I scrub the toilet I am preaching the gospel to all who enter my house, by completing the work God's given me to do and thus loving my husband and my guests and myself. And Joe preaches the gospel to me by faithfully going to work every day and showing himself as a provider. Of course we must also preach the gospel to those who haven't heard it, but we mustn't neglect ourselves.)
Tommy then said something like this: God calls the reluctant and the humble, not necessarily the qualified. So I started writing down some lies that influence my obedience:
Lies:
- I am not qualified to be a good housekeeper. I don't have the energy. I get too tired. So I shouldn't even try.
- I am not consistent enough to be a good friend for ____ because I don't have the patience for her. I wish I could be strong, but I'm just too weak.
- I am not spiritual enough to be a good friend for ____ because she is much closer to God than me, and I have nothing to offer her.
I think the way I often address these lies is wrong. For instance, when confronted with my inabilities as a housekeeper, I say (or others say) "You're a good housekeeper compared to some people, so don't feel bad." Or "Everyone needs a break, a day off." Or "As long as Joe isn't complaining, I am doing fine." These excuses temporarily mollify my frustration, but after saying them over and over to myself for weeks, I start to think there must be some greater truth.
The bottom line, the solution for all these lies, is that God called me while I was still a sinner. It wasn't because I would make a good Christian. It was because I wouldn't make a good Christian and he loved me anyway. Right now I'm called to be a homemaker, even though I feel like the worst person to be doing it, and it has nothing to do with my abilities, but with my willingness to be obedient!
It's tempting to use this as an excuse to feel overwhelmed - "what, God wants me to accomplish all these things even though I don't have the strength to do it? Mean!" But really, it's exactly the same purpose as the pages and pages of laws God gave to the Israelites. The purpose of the law was to show that nobody could keep the law - that they had to rely on forgiveness and grace to make up the gap and keep them in God's good graces. And the purpose of Jesus is the same - to let us know that we can't keep "the law" on our own - we can't be successful at all - unless we rest on Jesus.
This was where I started crying in the service, because I said these words: "God, I am so tired." I had been avoiding those words, because how can I be tired if I'm not depressed and I am done with school and I don't have a job and my biggest struggle is with wasting time? But "wasting time" is my way of trying to rest, and it wasn't working.
Rest. I thought I knew all about rest. I thought I knew that sometimes you push yourself, and sometimes you allow your body to take a nap, or allow your brain some down time. This is why I watch a movie with Joe in the evening, or sometimes go to bed before he does, or make myself a cup of tea and just sit. But these things, though nice, weren't really empowering me to continue my work - the work God's given me to do now, which is to keep up the house and take care of my husband and be a friend to others. I can't tell you how many times I've said, "I'm just going to play this one game, then I'll clean the kitchen" and I never do clean the kitchen. I've been trying to fill my need for rest with superficial rest, and it hasn't been working.
I wrote this in my journal during church yesterday:
"Rest isn't for the energetic achievers who complete all their responsibilities, who always smile, love, and give. Rest is for people who are tired."
Then I wrote, "I am tired. Instead of trying not to be tired, I should accept God's rest."
Here's the silly thing: I don't know exactly what God's rest looks like! I know it has something to do with the Sabbath ("and on the seventh day God rested") and the Promised Land, which was rest for the Israelites who had been walking around in the desert for years and years. I know it involves a taste of heaven that God gives us to experience on earth. And while tea is nice and movies are fun, I think God's rest for me must always involve preaching the gospel to myself.
And that's why I get chills when I read Matthew 11:28: "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." Because even if I don't know exactly what this rest looks like, I know that I trust God and I know he will give it to me. We all need rest, because we are all weary and burdened, whether we're Christians or not.
And this is me preaching the gospel to myself.
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