What would you like to rest from right now?
What comes to mind when you hear the word comfortable?
A fluffy pillow or cozy blanket?
Airconditioning?
Enough leg room?
Hot water?
A car with good shocks?
Wide enough shoes?
Marino wool socks?
Creamy soup?
Enough space?
The absence of conflict?
Sometimes (often?) I just want to be comfortable—and maybe I unconsciously brace against rest, waiting to feel comfortable first. Like I cannot rest yet, not just yet, not now.
Avoiding discomfort can sabotage all your good movement towards rest, making rest dependent on something external, or keeping it just out of reach in some future time.
This week we are participating in meetings at Lake Junaluska, a gorgeous mirror of the heavens perfectly placed among the viridian foothills of the Smokey Mountains. It’s a work week for Ricardo that includes time for breathing in beauty and feeling the rest of disconnecting from the everyday, material world routine.
I anticipated expansive times with God in the most ideal of situations.
Well…
Our first day here (Sunday), I injured my knee badly—as in big pain, swelling, hobbling, and crutches. It’s now Friday and I’ve been reminded that bracing against pain and discomfort just makes everything worse.
There is a place for bracing to protect ourselves, but staying in that state pretty much precludes rest.
Two things helped me move away from that bracing: getting a myofascial release treatment (body) and reading some words penned a couple of thousand years ago (mind and soul).
I looked for respite at the foot of a giant cross (the fuzzy lit up spot on the left side of the picture above). It was a perfectly beautiful day, and the view was calming, but I was struggling to get still. Too many busy thoughts buzzing around in my head, justifying their presence by the distraction of pain and the millions of things that weren’t getting done because of the pain.
Finally, I picked up my Bible and started in where I’d last left off (the Gospel of Luke, chapter 6) and came to Luke’s version of the Beatitudes. There are several differences between this list and the one recorded in Matthew chapter 5, but I’d never noticed that Luke’s use of the word now (verses 21 and 22):
Blessed are you who hunger now,
for you will be satisfied.
Blessed are you who weep now,
for you will laugh.
As long as I’m living on this planet, I’m going to have to deal with discomfort.
I don’t want to just grit my teeth and muscle through. Neither do I want to spend my energy trying to escape or avoid the discomforts of the present moment.
Reading those words helped me to notice everything (physical and otherwise) that was bothering me and freed me to sit with those things as part of my present reality— instead of squirming around (so to speak) and trying to get comfortable before taking Jesus up on the invitation to come, in whatever state I am in, now, and rest.
It still surprises me how resting in the present moment makes everything easier.
May your rest be sweet.
Until next Friday,
Alicia