By Kay Brown
For my birthday, I asked my husband for the day off. Because I am a homeschooling mother of six, I do not get many chances to rest, so it seemed like a good idea at the time. My dear husband secretly arranged childcare, and then dropped me off at the spa for the day. Distressingly, I could not rest. If I were young, thin, rich, spoke French fluently or had naturally curly hair, perhaps I would have been more comfortable. I did not fit in.
After hauling my weighty clothes bag, toiletries, towel, water bottle, book and lunch in and out of the changing area, mud pool, mineral pools, swimming pool and showers, I was exhausted. Perhaps rich people work out all the time so it does not tire them to haul their things from place to place. Perhaps that is why many of them have servants. Perhaps I just will never belong among the obviously rich and probably famous.
I do not ‘do’ leisure. Although I was there to rest, I had an overwhelming urge to fold the towels and straighten the flip-flops that were everywhere. Not cleaning the chairs in the mud pool area was a serious challenge. I was shocked that I could not let myself relax for a few hours. Why am I am driven to be busy? It is no wonder I have such a hard time just resting before the Lord.
There is probably a ‘group’ for people like me. Of course, if I attended a meeting, I would insist on making the snacks and cleaning up afterwards. “Hi. My name is Kay, and I have forgotten what it means to rest...can I get you some more coffee, sir?”
At this particular spa, there are signs on the walls that say, “Please do not speak above a whisper.” That was very hard on me. I have spent years talking incessantly and rarely do I wait for a response. (This skill was perfected when I became a mom.) All silences seem awkward to me, so I fill them. I think I am afraid of what I might hear - maybe God could get through if I were quiet. Or still.
“Be still, and know that I am God.”
“But Lord, I know that you are God. Can’t I just skip the first part so I can get more done for you?”
“Be still, and know that I am God.”
Gulp. No wonder I am so tired all the time. I have chosen to run around like the proverbial headless chicken. I do get a lot done, but is it necessary, is it beneficial, is it what He wants?
Once again, I find myself at the foot of the cross, my heart melting with the love that He has poured over me, anointing the once again self-inflicted wounds of my own sin. His tender smile, the richness of His grace, and the unfathomable power of His perfection calm and soothe unlike any other source of comfort. I am my Beloved’s, and He is mine! He does not care if I am young, thin, rich, speak French fluently or have naturally curly hair. He just wants me to be still. Then, I finally hear Him.
I fit in just fine.
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Boy, do I ever know what that feels like! It's so good to know that I can find my place in the arms of the Lord when nothing else feels quite like home.