The other day, a friend of mine and I were recalling the first time we remember having the breath knocked out of us at the playground. For me, it happened when a kid on the other end of the seesaw got off and I hit the ground with a thud. It was probably fairly benign as those things go – no long term injuries – but it was still a scary sensation, when what had been a fun, shared activity – up and down, back and forth – got out of balance and the game came crashing to a halt.
And it has made me think about the many ways our lives sometimes get out of balance – when activities that are intended to work together in a kind of back-and-forth, give-and-take rhythm get out of whack… and how, perhaps, the summer months can offer an opportunity to consider where this might be true for us, and to come back into a greater state of balance.
For many of us, I expect, this happens in the relationship between work and rest. Our culture values work, productivity, and activity, so rest is not something we come by easily. But, I believe there is a deep desire and need for rest, whether in our collective or personal life, when we’re juggling more than we feel we can handle.
In a book he wrote some years ago on the theme of sabbath, author Wayne Muller in Sabbath: Finding Rest, Renewal, and Delight in Our Busy Lives wrote, “In the relentless busyness of modern life, we have lost the rhythm between work and rest… our culture supposes that action and accomplishment are better than rest, that doing something—anything—is better than doing nothing. And, because we do not rest, we lose our way.” (Muller, 1999, p. 1).
Of course, work and rest—action and stillness—are probably best understood not in an either/or equation, but in that rhythmic sense. The world God created is full of natural rhythms—seasons, tides, day and night, planting and harvest. In these rhythms, there is a call to rest. Jesus followed this rhythm, too by taking time to rest from his important work. He was not always available to the crowds who seemed to follow him everywhere, as there were times when he went away to rest and pray… to connect with God… to replenish his resources.
I pray that these summer days might offer you the opportunity to do the same. To build rest and play into your otherwise work-filled days. To find times of quiet where you can listen for the “still small voice” of God. To discover the freedom that comes from knowing yourself first in terms of who you ARE—a beloved child of God—rather than what you DO. To catch your breath and find a renewed sense of balance.
Grace and peace,
Jean Dow
Transitional Associate Pastor
