I’m a producer, not the hollywood kind with boatloads of money but the sort who hits the ground running and doesn’t stop until she’s half asleep but not yet in bed.
About a month ago I got a much needed massage and the therapist asked me about my relaxation techniques. “What do you do to relax?”
“Oh well every afternoon while the kids are resting I watch TV and crochet or catch up on blogs and writing.”
“Right but when do you still yourself and release your tension and just “be?”
“Uh… never, yeah my hands are constantly in motion all day long, I don’t know how to sit still. I read sometimes.”
“But you’re still doing something?”
“Yeah, always… always doing something.”
I’m a goer, a doer, a producer. I like to make and create with food, yarn, paint, fabric or words and I feel that a moment that passes without production is a moment wasted, squandered.
Yet lately I’m coming to realize (yes somehow it took me 31 years) that this rhythm of constant production is draining me on a deep, aching level.
I always plan for double duty; driving and making a phone call, sewing and catching up on TV, cooking and texting. Even when I play with my kids I make plans to do something else simultaneously, which is crappy of me. I rarely feel like I’m fully where I am, rather always living some sort of half life here and there.
I need only turn to the first book of the bible to remind myself that I’m completely ignoring my operating manual. The world was created with a rhythm of dark and light, work and rest, a time to produce and a time to stop production, to recharge that which has been drained in the busying and creating.
Even those who create must renew their resources, God did…. so where exactly do I think I’m getting off? Hmmm….
I know better, I’ve always known better, sabbath is a command that God takes pretty seriously but as a ministry family we do a terrible job at taking a non-Sunday day of rest. Everything always seems like an opportunity to get ahead in life but these days I’m pretty sure that all of this “getting ahead” is putting us way behind, robbing us of depth and beauty and … peace probably.
I’m pretty sure it will make me twitch at first but sometime tomorrow I’m just going to sit on my deck and… nothing. I’ll invariably start to imagine shapes in the clouds and hear at least two of my neighbors mowing their lawn but this stilling is going to take practice and I want to start in.
And I have a feeling that in the stillness, in the rustling of trees and the buzzing of the mowers… that God just might Show. Up.