Napping Under a Broom Tree with Elijah

For years, the beloved Swede has been trying to convince me that exercise will give me more energy and help me feel better.  He says it has something to do with endorphins.  I have to admit, I’m a little skeptical of people who say they enjoy exercise.  When I work out, my muscles become sore, my knees hurt, and I just end up being sweaty.  The feeling is pretty much the complete opposite of energetic.  Maybe I was born without endorphins.  My dear husband keeps insisting that, if I just kept at it, I really would start feeling better.  I just keep looking at him thinking he’s nuts.  Cute, but nuts.

Getting adequate rest is one of those things--along with exercising regularly, flossing our teeth, eating a diet low in sodium and saturated fats, and taking a multivitamin--we all know we should do, at least theoretically.  We hear Jesus’ words, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”  Matthew 11:28, NIV, and most of us smile and nod in agreement.

“Yes, that’s a nice sentiment, a nice gesture,” I think to myself.   Rarely, however, do I ever change my behavior, and reach out to accept that gift.  I mean, I appreciate the offer, but seriously?  Doesn’t God know I have important things to do?  I have a family to raise, laundry to wash, groceries to buy, emails to return, writing projects to finish, relationships to maintain, and appointments to keep.  I have duties and responsibilities at my church and a Bible study lesson to finish.  And while I’m at it, I’m always open to the possibility that I might be called upon to step up and save the planet, just as soon as I get to the dry cleaner to pick up my super heroine cape.

Resting just doesn’t seem to be a noble activity, one that adds value to my life or the lives of others.  It feels self-indulgent and lazy.

And yet.  I think back to the days when my children were young, when naps were an essential element in the rhythm of our days.  I look at young mothers in grocery stores, exasperated because their children are screaming and crying inconsolably, and I think, “That baby needs a nap.  Or a bottle.  Maybe both.”  We know that rest and refreshment are good for our children; they are necessary and restorative.  We’ve probably all seen the child who defiantly refuses to nap, who screams and thrashes and flails; arching her back and resisting the comfort offered near her mother’s heart.

Not long ago, after many years of home schooling my children, I found myself physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted.  I spent some time talking with my pastor and telling him I understood how the prophet Elijah felt--how he wanted to just curl up under a broom tree and never wake up.  I don’t mean to suggest that my efforts at home schooling were roughly the equivalent of Elijah’s ministry.  I never had to do battle with the prophets of Baal or call fire down from heaven, but I’m telling you—we had our days.  And at some level, those of us who are trying to live faithfully and responsibly in the midst of a faithless generation sometimes feel as though we are out in the trenches doing battle with false prophets.  It’s exhausting.

I'm encouraged that God didn’t scold Elijah for lying down under that tree; He didn’t tell him to stop whining, pull himself up by his bootstraps and get back to work.  God let him rest.  Then, sending food by the hand of an angel, God fed him.  Once more Elijah slept and, once more, God sent food to nourish him.  After Elijah rested and was fed, he had the strength to continue on to the mountain of God.

Oftentimes in my exhaustion, I think I just need to stop whining and try harder, to engage in more disciplined prayer or study of scripture and get back to work.  Sometimes, those things may be true.  But sometimes this old body might just need what Elijah and my babies both needed.  Sometimes I just need a nap.  Maybe a bottle.  Maybe both.  I need to stop acting like a petulant child, thrashing and flailing and arching my back when God is trying to draw me close to Him in His offer of rest.  I need to learn to receive with gratitude this gift God has offered and recognize the restorative value in it.  And, just as I recognize disobedience in the child who refuses to lie down and take a nap, I need to see my refusal to rest as equally disobedient.

So maybe, after I’ve finished this piece, proofread and posted it, I’ll take a few minutes and close my eyes or simply sit and receive some music, beauty, or words from God to nourish my soul.  After all, that sounds much better than doing crunches, right?

Joining with Faith Barista in her conversation on rest, and with emily and her community of writers and artists whose work feeds my soul.  (And, because there's a really cute picture of my baby girl in my post)