evolve: sabbath
I tried reasoning it away. I tried breathing it away. I tried praying it away. But I could still feel it racing against my chest. I could hear it, even.
Have you ever been kept awake by the sound of your own heart beat?
1am passes. Then 2. 3. 4. Finally there’s too much light to even bother sleeping.
I’m the “yes, my gas light is on but I know my car and we’re gonna be fine” kind of driver. And without realizing it, I’ve approached my body in the same way. I’ve said yes to favors. I’ve said yes to hangs. I’ve said yes to positions. All the while, ignoring the inner voice urging, “we need to stop for fuel” because I know my body- and we’re gonna be fine.
Only sometimes we’re not fine. Sometimes, I find myself on the side of the road, tired and broken because I refused to listen. And I was there a couple of days ago. On the side of the road, I mean. It’s not a fun place to be. Anxiety lies there. It shamed me for stopping. And It reminded me of all the things I had to do, places I had to be, and people I had to meet.
“Why aren’t you doing anything?”
“There’s so much to do.”
“You’re never going to get it all done.”
Do. Do. Do. That’s all It cares about. And at the heart of Anxiety- at least mine- is a misplaced identity. It’s me thinking that my worth is in my productivity. It’s me laying my rest at the altar of man because I so desperately want to be liked. But, I am more than my work- than my results. I am “God’s choice, holy and loved.” And you, you are more than your work- your results. For you are, “God’s choice, holy and loved” (Col. 3:12).
I - we are worthy of rest. We are invaluable. We are the homes of God. Like, God God. Like, the God who speaks to waves, and “gives orders to the morning” (Job 38:12). That God. And this same God has made us Her resting place. And so may we follow suit. May we learn to rest in the God who has rested in us. May we give more ‘no’s’. May we sleep in. May we be.