Enforced Rest

Yes, it's been a week since I posted anything.  This weekend my son had a Boy Scout camping trip and I went with him.  The stars were stunningly spectacular.  The kids had a blast.  I thought I rested.  Turns out my body didn't agree with me on that one. 

I arrived home with arms and legs of lead.  I've been working to get exercise into my days, but it's nothing like the 1/4 mile trip to the bathroom at the campsite.  We packed well and were well prepared for most of what Florida can throw at you, but Sunday morning, the temps were in the low 40's and I awoke to neck spasms.  (By the way, you can make hot packs from wet towels placed on top of an old-fashioned Coleman lantern.)

I didn't have time to rest much when I got home that day either.  By Monday, the cold and the extra exercise had me in a full blown Fibromyalgia flare up.  Every muscle and nerve in my entire body screamed at me.  I dragged out of bed and got Kate to school, but PJ wasn't feeling great either so we just stayed home.  I rested most of Monday and Tuesday, including a visit to my prayer partner for a massage.  Today, I asked God if I could get back to stuff (I really am a go-getter) and He said maybe tomorrow.   I'm cleared to do some writing and thinking, but not much more.  I would love to jump up and go finish my garden bed. It's almost done.  Instead, I'll go to church again tonight, but it's going to be slow going. 

I hate this.  More than once, my Lord has accused me of becoming a human doing rather than a human being.  I've always measured my self-worth by what I've accomplished.  I've stubbornly pushed my heart and mind to their limits, ignoring my body for years.  When He tenderly stops me, I chafe at His direction and discipline.  In the end, He has had to use pain to get me to recognize the folly of my frantic activity.  To Him, my value is not contingent on what I do and if necessary, He will make me unable to do anything to prove it. 

I laid in bed this morning and asked, "What can I do now?"  He said, "Pray and rest."  I am slowly learning that the rest preceeds action--the Hebrew day starts at sundown; the Christian week starts with our rest day; the Christian era started with Christ's death--the most passive repose a human could take.  It is during our rest that He acts on our behalf, preparing the way for the good works He has planned in advance for us to do.  To skip the rest is to skip ahead of His preparation.  Most importantly, it is in quiet and rest that He comes and shows us Himself.  I have climbed ladders as fast as I could only to find that the ladder rested on the wrong building.  When we rest with Him, He makes sure the ladder we climb is the one He picked out for us.  Our warfare become effective rather than shadowboxing. 

I don't know if He will ever heal me.  I hope I learn the lesson well enough that He can.  In the meantime, He has made space in my life for the unforced rhythms of His grace.  I trust His provision.