Rest.

Drink water.

Do nothing.

 

That’s a hard one

for a doer,

like me.

 

I don’t mind resting

one day a week.

But back then

resting was a choice,

not a

‘have to.’

It’s weird what happens to us when things become

‘have to’s.’

Something deep inside

immediately

rebels.

 

 

Rest.

Drink water.

Do nothing.

 

 

The hardest part was

saying no.

Like swallowing glass,

making the world

go on without me

when I know

I could just

make everyone

so happy

if I could just

get off the couch.

Cause pleasing people

was priority.

 

 

 

Priority changed.

Priority became

try to eat food

and not

throw it all up.

Priority became

drink water,

sleep,

have a bath.

Do it all again.

Priority became

me.

 

And not all of me.

Just this part of me.
This temporary tent

that was up in arms.

My soul and spirit

got hungry

cause all I could do

was the basics.

 

 

Rest.

Drink water.

Do nothing.

 

 

I realized my spiritual life

is a lot of doing.

Doing that makes me feel

good.

Doing that makes me

happy.

But what happens when

my spiritual life

can’t do

anything?

All I can do

is mumble memorized Scriptures

before bed

and listen for

His voice,

His presence.

Still there.

Alleluia.

 

 

 

And that’s just it.

Still there.

Work was still there.

Getting along without me.

God was still there.

Getting along without me.

Life just kept going

while I stopped.

 

I had to stop

rebelling.

I had to accept

Rest,

Drink water,

Do nothing.

 

 

And there was

my mom’s voice,

somehow balancing

the comforting,

“Stay as long as you need,” and the

gentle pushing,

“Let’s try and go out.”

If you’re forced to stop

best to have

Mom there

to keep you

alive,

inside and out,

moving forward,

making good choices.

Letting go.

Beginning again.

 

 

If you’re forced to stop

best to have

friends there

reminding you

it doesn’t all depend on you,

that you can’t control what’s happening,

that God’s voice needs to be my holding place,

that fear is a liar.

Phone calls,

texts,

emojis,

hugs,

releasing peace.

Praise Jesus.

 

 

 

Eventually I turned

for the better.

I could sit up.

I could keep my eyes open.

I could keep food down.

I could read.

I could write.

I could do dishes.

I made my bed.

 

 

Each simple thing

A shining success.

But I had to give myself the grace

to get there.

 

Rest.

Drink water.

Do nothing.

 

And now here I am.

And here is what I think.

 

God doesn’t make people sick.

Why would Jesus, God in the flesh,

 spend so much time

healing and delivering people

if God makes people sick?

That sounds like

A kingdom divided to me.

 

But here is what I believe.

God can redeem anything.

So many

Of my dearest friends

Fight far worse sickness

Than me

Right now,

Every day,

Not just for a week,

But for years,

And years,

And years.

And it’s not just them.

Sometimes it’s their kids.

Their loved ones.

And they are

Far more 

Out of control

Than I ever have been.

And these people

Still have

faith.

They still pray.

They still hope.

They are given strength

To make it through

Another hour,

Another day, another year.

God is in the business

Of redeeming what the enemy

Is trying to mess with;

God’s powerful,

awesome,

world-changing

children.

 

I don’t know sickness,

despair,

fear,

waiting,

letting go,

like these

dear ones do.

 

But I see God.

I see God helping me,

helping them,

helping all of his beloved humanity,

make it through

leaning hard,

trusting Him,

finding grace

for each

day.

 

 

Rest.

Drink water.

Do nothing.

 

 

Be ok with that.

If that’s your season.

 

And if that’s your beloved’s season,

be ok with that

with them

and listen

and love 

and see

God

right there,

always present,

always redeeming.

Alleluia.