I didn’t learn about real rest until I was in my thirties.
I recently saw a photograph of a small peninsula in a large body of water, its connector was the narrowest of alleys. And on it stood one lone tree. As I studied the beauty of the water and the distant green horizon, I found myself drawn to the loneliness of that tree, isolated from any forest or grove.
In some way, it made me feel a longing for that same isolation. I needed to ask myself why it had such appeal, a question which sparked a journey back in time for me.
My three kids are young adults now, so the chaos of our young family is behind me. Those years swirled around us like they do for many, a flurry of school, extracurriculars, church and social activities.
And they were loud. SO. LOUD.
I needed real rest
In my mind’s eye I can envision myself aching for quiet and space and the opportunity not to be covered in spit-up and crumbs. Days would go by before I felt I even had a chance to think one coherent thought.
Many young mamas I knew talked about aching for coffee dates and girls’ nights, but I just longed to be alone. Solitude seemed elusive and how I ached for it!
Is that why the lone tree seemed so appealing?
Ironically, when I did have time to myself in those days, I still never felt the real rest I hoped for. I didn’t rest well. I hid.
Hiding, not resting
If I’m honest, there were many years where I actually resented people. I didn’t want them in my space, whether they needed my help or wanted to help me. I felt as though I grew layers of prickly exterior as a shield, not the most attractive outfit for the wife of a pastor.
In hindsight, I believe my resentment grew from fear. I was afraid of vulnerability because I believed the lie that people would reject me if they knew who I really was. My hard shell was a self-protective casing to keep people from seeing and knowing me.
I have seen the God who sees me
But I have now seen the God who sees me. He was patient, and He continued to reveal Himself as the generous and kind Father He is. He was showing me the value of connection, reminding me it is His character and mine to be in community.
Ironically, He often showed me Himself through the very people I sometimes didn’t even want in my space. They were generous, joyful. They were gracious and patient and real. They knew the value of slow conversations and real rests.
Through their friendship my longing for connection started to grow – I no longer dreaded companionship, I welcomed it. I no longer hid myself, but I shared parts of myself and I started to grow.
Real rest
I still need quiet in order to recharge. I’m an extroverted introvert. But that need for quiet is no longer tinged with the desire to escape from everyone. It is respite, not resentment. It is real rest I want. And therefore, the quiet is much more refreshing, and it allows me to re-enter community with joy.
Not isolation…real rest
When I look at that lone tree, I think that’s what I see now. It’s the quiet, real rest, not the isolation. It’s the preparation for joy-giving, not the retreat from people.
When God says He is making all things new, He means it.
How about you?
Share in the comments how you find real rest.
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