The Idol and the Gift

It was one of those "blessings in disguise".

I came home from class one evening absolutely beat.  Like it's-7:00pm-and-I-can-barely-stay-awake.  I woke up the next morning with a fever.  I was loathe to cancel class, but of course I had to.  I stayed home that day and the next.  I didn't hang out with my friends that Saturday like I'd planned.  Or go to church on Sunday.

Four days of forced rest.

I was bummed at first, 'cause, you know...losing two days of sessions meant losing eight hours, and I find a great sense of satisfaction in logging those hours.  (Also, who wants to stay home sick when everyone else is having a grand old time?!)

But it gave me time to think.  Not the planning-what-I-need-to-do-today-and-tomorrow-and-all-of-next-month kind of thinking.  Not busy thinking.  Deep thinking.  Quiet thinking.  Listening to God thinking.

And I was reminded how hard it often is for me to truly rest...

Another four hours on the time sheet, another email written, another project finished, another assignment turned in - it's as much an idol as it is an addiction.

God gently offers the gift of rest, and I push it away because I'm too busy.  Too busy...worshipping.  Chasing an elusive, never-quite-satisfying idol instead of the living God who loves me.

I let the busyness of life crowd in, and the din drowns out His voice.  I strive to be productive, deciding to make that my reputation.  The hard-working girl.  The diligent, conscientious, dependable one.

It's like I forget that my acceptance was never meant to be found in what I do.  My acceptance is found in Christ - alone.  After all, He loved me before I did anything.  Maybe He wants me to stop thinking about all that I'm going to do - for Him, for others, for myself - and start thinking about the work He's already done.

Because the work He did through the cross?  It's finished.  Forever.  Isn't it a contradiction then when His children have such frantically busy hearts?  Isn't that a sign we've forgotten what His work means for our lives?

But relentless love doesn't leave me alone in my forgetfulness.  If I will not rest and remember on my own, He may give me circumstances where I have to rest (and hopefully that rest will be followed by remembrance).

Perhaps rest isn't even the real gift, after all.  Maybe it's just the means of discovering the real gift.

Himself.

- - -

(I mentally "wrote" most of this post last weekend while I was sick, fully intending to type it out that Monday or Tuesday.  I didn't get to it until today, because the week was really full.  The irony does not escape me...  Tell you what, if I could invent a way of getting a blog post or email or story directly from my mind to the computer instantly, without typing, I'd be a wealthy woman!  But who am I kidding?  There's probably already an app for that.)