Day 4:
Rest. Or So They Say.
Rest. I currently don’t know what rest is. It’s certainly not a difficult word to understand. Rest is not in my vocabulary. And I certainly don’t know how to get it anymore. I once knew what rest was, and how to get it, but that was before I hit my month 10 on the race. I want to give 110% in very country and to the people. But each situation is different. My circumstances are constantly changing, unsettling at times. But read till the end, and find out how I win this battle against rest.
Starting out in month 1, Serbia, I was fresh off the plane. I had wonderful hosts (still my favorites!!) and they gave me some recipes that I loved trying out. I found my rest in baking, being in the kitchen (without the mouse tormenting me) and sharing the food with my team. I could turn on some music, turn my brain off and just bake. My rest came from closing the door on the outside world, or just the kitchen door, and bake.
During the refugee crisis in Greece, work was constant and raining. I found it hard to turn off what I saw at the camps when I was home. I physically was drained and slept everywhere I could. I would sleep on the drive to the camps, on the way home, sleep on the ground curled up in one of the boy’s comforter, or in bed. I had to sleep. It was the only res I could get in such a dark environment. My rest of physically sleeping. Because I couldn’t turn off what I was living through, my brain just couldn’t handle sitting idle. My mind goes crazy, off on rabbit trails. But this time these weren’t happy trails. I was exhausted mentally and physically, so much so that my body forced rest in the way of sleeping.
In Africa, my rest came from being alone (as alone as I could get). I had my ten, my own oasis (or sauna) that was all mine. I could hide away from people, regroup, and just rest. But within a couple feet a group of tents were circled up. I could plug my headphones and convince myself I wasn’t with the whole squad. Convince myself that it wasn’t a hard month due to the pressures of finances for the entire squad. In Zimbabwe, I went running, along, and could find my away time, and think. I struggled with my team changes, and often went to the pool at the hostel to swim and be alone. I would bring my coloring book to the pool and turn off my brain. Swimming or floating was second nature, and coloring was my mind numbing go to. I would sometimes drape my towel over a chair and my head, so I could pretend I was alone. Restful, yes sometimes.
In the beginning of Asia, I had the best privilege to head down to Boracay in the Philippines. It was my time to get away from the squad, be around comfort, and to decompress. I could find my rest. I had some excellent quiet times with the Lord in the peaceful mornings, along with successful naps in the afternoons. I was in an atmosphere that begged me to be restful. I could go on for a long time on how Boracay was SOOO beneficial for me, but I’ll stop. The Lord provided a way for me to rest because He knew what was before me. What was in front of me was not restful. Another all squad month counting 3, squamates leaving the race, no moving air in unnaturally hot Philippines and a ministry that left me unsettled. Next month brought team changes, and as much as I saw this as a relief, it wasn’t restful. Along with team switcharoos, another month of Unsung Heroes was our ministry. During UH, we moved around so many times, I was never comfortable enough to relax and find rest. Then the next month, things were off. Many things were not restful, and that’s about all I should say on that month.
And now, I’m currently writing about rest, with 30 preschoolers running around screaming during their break. This is the truest picture of rest, or lack thereof, this month. And writing again when I have to stay under my bug net or else I will be eating my mosquitos or swarmed by thousands of flies. I feel guilty for not spending time with my team or with the host family, but I’m running on steam. I had tricked my body into thinking I could find rest here, but as this week proves, I was wrong. The sleep I barely get is filled with intense vivid dreams, and often woken up by loud parties (weddings), the grandma, or howling dogs. I thought I could rind rest in watching movies, to turn my brain off, but no.
The only thing that I find peace in is listening to podcasts on my break. I listen to my pastor’s sermons from back home, and some random podcasts on my phone that I’ve had. They are wonderful, and gives me depth, more so than when I read the Word. But as much as this is peaceful for me, it’s not restful. My brain is still working, and running. I’m thinking on a deeper level than what I would consider resting would require.
Rest is vital in life and on the race. God rested. God chose to rest on the seventh day of creating the world. If God chooses it, I’m deeming it pretty important. You want to give and give and give, but without rest, it’s fumes. I wasn’t to run in gasoline, not the leftover fumes of the gas tank. I can’t give it all when I am running on fumes.
So I have no choice to CLING to Psalm 23. My strength and endurance doesn’t last. Trust me, I’ve tried it. But my Heavenly Father has ALL I need. I’m not perfect at remembering this or even understanding it, it’s work in progress (as most of my life currently is). But I know that I have an awesome God, who will never put something before me that we can’t conquer together. So I am going to cling to Psalm 23.
‘The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters,he refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake.Even though I walk through the darkest valley I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.’
