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

A Hospital Visit in London, or A Bad Start to Our Vacation and True Refreshment

You know that feeling you have right before going on vacation? That mix of excitement, hope, and exhaustion? When we left three Sundays ago for our family trip to the United Kingdom with my sister and her husband, we were thrilled to be traveling and we also felt desperate for a break. As a ministry family, the lines of church and life often blur, and it can feel difficult to really get “away” from a job that also happens to be central to every other aspect of your life—friendships, family, spiritual growth—the list goes on. We were excited to be hopping across the pond where our phones wouldn’t be constantly buzzing. We were excited to rest.

Ella sleeping on the plane

Yes, that’s Ella under that scarf. She had the best seat(s) on the plane!

Ours was an overnight flight to London, and it started with Ella throwing up all over me as the flight was taking off. She had been fighting an ear infection but had been on the upswing, so we didn’t think much about it. I thanked Jesus that I had packed one of my extra shirts in her carry-on bag, changed into it, and settled her down to get some sleep. She slept like a champ on the flight and although neither Michael nor I got any real sleep, we knew we were heading to Oxford that day (one of our favorite cities) and could go to sleep early.

We rode the tube from Heathrow to London Paddington, tired but happy to finally be on vacation. Ella was in the Ergo on Michael, and when we finally got to the train station we realized how hungry we were. Due to some electrical issues, our train was delayed—along with most of the others that should have been taking off that morning from London. Paddington was a madhouse, and did I mention we were tired? All four of us adults hadn’t slept in about 24 hours. But we found a spot of floor, put all of our luggage down, and looked for some food. I offered Ella a squeezie pouch. And that is when she started to vomit all over me and all over herself. I was soaked through every layer of my clothing, and Ella was burning up. After taking her temperature, we realized that she needed to see a doctor. But here we were in London, and we hardly knew where to find a restroom, let alone a doctor.

We discovered there was a private medical clinic in the Paddington Station (yay!) but went to the office and found out they don’t see children (no!). They recommended we go to the A&E  (Accident & Emergency) Department of St. Mary’s Hospital, within walking distance. At this point, Michael and I were starting to feel overwhelmed. Ella needed help and we felt helpless—it’s an awful feeling as a parent. We didn’t know our way around the city and “walking distance” was a positive spin on the distance we had to walk with our luggage and a sick baby. By the time we found the A&E and realized that it could take hours for Ella to be seen, she was asleep in the Ergo, and Michael and I sat in an un-air-conditioned waiting room, raw to the core.

So many thoughts went through my mind, and I said some of them aloud to Michael: Vacation isn’t supposed to be like this. We need to rest. We are so tired. This trip was supposed to be our break. We need this trip to be refreshing.

I had prayed for months that none of us would get sick on this trip—the exact scenario that we were living through was the thing I dreaded most about traveling with Ella. I was afraid of pushing her past her limits, being in an environment where we couldn’t help her, and seeing her struggle as a result.

But here we were, in a hot waiting room in London, in a healthcare system we knew little about, needing help for our little girl. And we looked at each other and both of us were in tears.

And we did the only thing we knew to do. Michael held Ella as I read Psalm 23 out loud.

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
    

And we didn’t fight the tears, and we asked God to heal our little girl and to help us. And I felt God’s presence and his love there in that hospital room, and I knew, afresh, that we were not alone.

And God carried us. Ella was able to keep liquids down, and medicine helped keep her temperature in a normal range.  We made it to Oxford on a later train, and checked in to a hotel that will forever be a reminder of God’s grace to us. It felt like home: we slept well there, and we felt taken care of by God himself.

And although it was maybe the worst way to start our vacation, the vomiting and the fever and the hospital visit all reminded us of one very important thing. We didn’t need a vacation. (And we never deserve one.) What we did need was God. His presence is rest for my soul. His word is encouragement for my heart. His nearness is refreshing beyond any vacation. And He, himself, is our final home.

So much of the trip was amazing and wonderful and refreshing. The first 24 hours were decidedly not. But God was with us. And He met us just as much in that hospital waiting room as he did on the top of the mountain we climbed in the Peak District. He is near. And He alone is the refreshment that we really need.