Squeezed for Time and Resting in God

Daily Ways to Rest So We Don't Burn Out

When you’re juggling a lot of roles–wife, employee, mom, student, friend, sister–or any other number of roles–it can feel like there’s no margin in our lives. We feel tired, exhausted, maybe even worn-down. And in that mental state, it can seem harder and harder to believe that there’s some sort of dim light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. I have days where it feels like my season will never change–that I’ll always feel tired, or that I’ll always be pressed for time.

And you know what I’m having to come to terms with? That might actually be the case. From now until I die, I might always feel hard-pressed, squeezed, even, for time. In his book, The Sacred Journey, Frederick Buechner writes about how children are the ones who live “below time;” they do not experience time in the same way as adults do because they do not yet have a sense of its earthly finiteness, nor do they carry the responsibilities that we do once we grow up. At some point, though, all of us open the door unto time and find ourselves living within the reality of limited days. Most of us are always a bit wistful for the days of carefree timelessness. But we cannot go back.

And so, yes I have lost that sense of timelessness, of freedom away from the clock. I have roles and responsibilities that will forever keep me from being free of the constraints of time. But I would not trade those good things for unhindered freedom. Every thing that truly matters requires tethering, especially love. 

Every thing that truly matters requires tethering, especially love. Share on X

And so I am tethered to these roles and responsibilities, and sometimes I feel like I might break under the weight of them. But then I find that I am able to bend a bit more, and I find that I’m living in the grace of Christ, who does not break those who are already bending. He upholds us. He strengthens us. He fights on our behalf.

So, then, how can I live peacefully when time always feels thin? Well, in the midst of unending demands and requirements on our time, it is important–even necessary–to give ourselves time to rest. I’ve already written about why I believe the Sabbath is so central to our rhythms of weekly life, but on the smaller scale of day-to-day life, how can we rest? How can we allow ourselves to take short breaks in the midst of our days so that we don’t break under the weight of our responsibilities?

There are many ways to do this, but here are five of my favorite, simple ways to rest daily:

1. Connecting with Christ. This is so important for me–I’ve written more about it here, but the fact is that unless I’m staying close to Jesus, everything else feels overwhelming and stressful. Half an hour with him in the morning shifts my mindset toward His priorities and gives me the grace I need to do all that I’m called to do. This can look different for all of us, but my time with God in the morning includes reading the Word, praying, and journaling.

2. Choosing Gratitude. It’s amazing how quickly thankfulness can change my attitude and my perspective. If I can make the choice to say–out loud–three things that I’m thankful for, I’m usually humbled to bits–in the best sense. I have been given so much, and God is with me through it all.

3. A long(ish) shower. I’m not joking. When you can close (and lock!) the door, a shower offers a little time to let my brain rest, let my body rest, and let my senses rest. If you have time for a long soak, even better!

4. Five minutes in silence. Put down the phone, the remote, the headphones. Sit, quietly, and try to let all of the tension seep out of your body. Ask God for a fresh dose of His peace in your heart, mind, and bones.

5. A hot drink in the wintertime, a cold drink in the summertime. The sensory power of being refreshed or warmed is something that often brings me a few moments of pleasure, gratefulness, and peace–if I attend to my senses and allow myself to slow down.

Even in the busy days that most of us find ourselves in, there is grace from Christ to live peacefully. Small steps like these can help us slow down and be present in the life that we are living–they can even help us meet God in the midst of the busyness.

Still Waiting by Ann Swindell

Relationship with God: My Newest Piece at RELEVANT Magazine

My most recent piece about relationship with God is up at RELEVANT Magazine. I’d love for you to check it out!

Relationship with God

 

“Having a personal relationship with God”—it’s a phrase that gets tossed around in many Christian circles. But what does it actually mean to have a relationship with the Savior of the Universe?

Knowing God is going to look different from any other relationship in our lives. We can’t see God. We can’t look across the table at our favorite coffee shop and talk with Jesus in bodily form. So, in a world where we cannot text God or send Him an email, what does it look like to be in a relationship—to be in a friendship—with the one who created all things (Colossians 1:16)?

Intentionality

No deep relationship happens apart from intentional cultivation. Even the relationships that seem to happen “organically” in our lives—those friends we click with immediately—need to be nurtured to one degree or another. We reach out to the people we care about, and we have to seek to be intentional in order to get to know one another. Determining that we actually do want to grow in our friendship with God—and then setting aside intentional time to spend with Him—is an important first step toward getting to know Him better.

No deep relationship happens apart from intentional cultivation.

But while we may be intentional about growing in relationship with God, it may seem challenging because we may not feel God’s intentionality toward us. Still, His intentionality in loving and knowing us is always, always there. The One who created us—the One who “knit [us] together” (Psalm 139:13)—has never wavered in His intentionality toward us. He made each of us specifically and with great love. We are worth a great deal to Him (Luke 12:6-7).

We don’t have to ask God to pencil us in to His calendar—He always has time for us. Whether it is 15 minutes in the morning where we read the Bible and pray, an hour-long jog while appreciating His creation, or a weekend retreat spent worshiping Him, consistent, intentional time spent getting to know God is one of the foundations of a deep relationship with Him.

Communication: Talking

But what do we do during the time that we’ve set aside to connect with God? As with earthly relationships, the hope is that we will communicate. Communication with God looks both similar and different from communication with earthly friends, but it includes what all healthy relationships include—sharing, confessing and praising.

We share our hearts with God through prayer and tell Him what we’re excited about, what we’re worried about, and what we are thinking about. We open up about the places we have fallen short and confess our sin to Him. And we praise Him for who He is and what we love about Him. We thank Him. We worship Him. Just as we tell our earthly friends how much we appreciate them and are thankful for them, we do the same with God—to the highest degree.

Read about another two aspects of relationship with God, Communication: Listening, and Acts of Love and Service over at RELEVANT!
 

The Weightiness of Her Life

One year ago today, I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it. Practically, yes, I knew I would live. But emotionally, I wasn’t sure how to keep moving forward. Ella was just six weeks old, and I had never known a love as fierce and all-consuming as the love I had for her. But I was also exhausted, and feeling unsteady. We had ventured into this thing called parenting with our eyes as wide open as we thought we could get them: our best friends had kids, and I’d helped Robyn clean up poop and puke more than once. We had been married for seven years, had already changed jobs several times: we knew one another well as spouses. We had the money saved up that we needed for Ella’s birth and medical care. We had been praying about starting a family for years, and I had been praying for my children since I was a child myself.

© Miss Motley Photography 2013

What, then, was my problem? Why did I feel scared and unsure? Why, when I looked at my daughter, did I both want to melt into a pool of grateful tears and also curl up into the fetal position she had just so recently left?

Well, the lack of sleep was one thing. One huge thing. I had not gotten more than three hours of sleep strung together for those six weeks, and I was tired. Really, really tired. Every new mom knows this, but there is a special kind of exhaustion that those newborn days bring. I’d heard about it, but it’s different to experience that kind of bone-tiredness, and I was not functioning well without sleep.

The hormones were another thing. I knew I had hormones prior to getting pregnant and giving birth, but wow. Wow. The high of having a child had definitely petered out by week six for me, and now I just felt overwhelmed. I felt overwhelmed by her need for me—I had never felt so tethered to another life.

And that weightiness of caring for another life—not one buoyed up in my womb, encased in layers of water and flesh—but here, awake, pink and crying—this felt important. It felt heavy. At times, the weight of her life and my weakness felt too heavy to bear.

I remember crying, and I remember asking Michael if life would ever be the same again. How could he answer? Well, of course not. We had a child. We were now parents. Our lives were unendingly altered. But yes, we would sleep again. And yes, we would gain our sea legs in this vast ocean of parenting. Just not right away. Not right now.

So I had two goals every day: keep Ella alive, and keep myself alive. Ella’s needs, although high, were straightforward—milk, sleep, touch. For me to stay alive was very different. I needed food yes, and I desperately needed sleep. Friends brought meals and family watched Ella while I napped. But I needed hope—and for me that meant getting time with God every day, even when it felt impossible to do anything. I have had friends who also needed medication and counseling, and although I did not need those things after Ella’s birth I am grateful they are available if I ever do. But my first lifeline in those early weeks was getting daily time with God. It often took me until five pm to get even twenty minutes with the Lord, reading the word, journaling my prayers through tears or through drooping eyelids. Sometimes I just turned on worship music and sang along; sometimes I immersed myself in the words of Scripture, hungry for something stable and sure in my life, which seemed unendingly new. Sometimes I just sat and wept, out of gratefulness or out of fear.

And for me, steadily, those feelings of being overwhelmed started to lift. God spoke to my heart that it was not my responsibility to carry the weight of Ella’s life–that was his responsibility. Just as I had not created Ella, I could not sustain her. Her life belonged to him; my call was to love her and delight in her, not carry her life as a burden I could not possibly bear. And I was able to hand to God the things that scared me and the things that I felt unable to hold–I gave Ella back to him, just as she has always been his. I told him, again, that I trusted him with her life. And along with the babysitting from family and the meals from friends and the conversations with my husband, I met God in a new way in that release. He carried me, and he showed me that he was the one carrying Ella.

The Weightiness of Her Life Share on X

Much can change in a year. I have had calendar years in my life where very little changed externally—this was not one of those years. I would not change this last year for anything, but I am also thankful that time does not go back. I am thankful that I have needed to continue to learn that the Lord is the sustainer of Ella’s life. I am called to give my life in many ways so that she might thrive and so that she might love Jesus. But he has already given all of his life for her. I can trust her Maker and mine with this child I was blessed to carry and that I now get to raise. Ella is a gift. Her life is weighty, yes, because she is of eternal value and worth. But I am not her maker. I am not her sustainer. I am her mother. There is a difference.

For me, that difference has been very, very freeing.

So has the increased amount of sleep. That’s helped a lot, too.

Whenmotherhoodis hard...

This is a #WritingWednesdays post. Think back to a year ago today and write about how you have changed since then.