Life is different these days, from waking up to going to sleep - it’s all new and different than it was a year or six months ago. I find myself evaluating what the word "new" means. This is a new season, but am I new person or the same person with just a new perspective? All semantics, I know.
I spent all weekend, resting - trying to get my back to relax and mend. It’s still sore, but the rest was good. This is part of a new thing I am still trying to adjust to. I like staying busy, doing things, and a year ago, I probably wouldn’t have had a weekend of resting and instead would have filled it with a few activities.
While I enjoy relaxing, it’s hard to really want to rest right now. It’s a season, where I feel like I should be doing more. But the harder I try to pick up the pace, the more I feel like God keeps saying, “Slow down. There will be time to pick up the pace. Right now, it’s time for rest and recovery.”
No, I don’t think God has intentionally caused my back to hurt, but it is helping me stay grounded, literally. Why? I don’t know. Yet, the message of rest is resounding. Each time, I lean in to listen to what God's saying, the message is consistent.
Living in a new normal means learning what it means to rest in God’s plan truly. To give myself permission, more than expected to take it easy. Six months isn't that long. Grief demands rest. Although, I keep being surprised by this same realization, it might be slowly sinking in.
Taking this thought from idea to life integration is a process of continually being okay with times of what might feel like "nothing." Doing nothing can be healing, because often doing nothing means a whole lot of processing of some things. (Yeah, that's super vague sounding.)
Often I find, we're harder on ourselves with the idea of not wanting to waste time. I know I am hardest on myself - striving to push past this, get better quicker, get moving, plan the next great escape, etc...
/// Hold the brakes.///
Wrapping up my weekend with a March 1 start, I pause by starlight to simply say, “Thanks God, for a weekend of rest.” I don’t fill my head with the list of things I should have done but accept it for what it is (or was).
Trusting that THIS REST was what I needed most, at this time.
Needed rest, for a weary body, heart and soul.
Because . . . grief is weary.
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.
For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” - Matthew 11:28-30
Hi! It's Jenn Brown, writing my story that is now slightly different as we enter a season of new grief. On September 30, 2019, my dear husband Josh passed away after battling brain cancer.