Lately, my 3-year-old has been engaging in a nightly battle of I don’t wanna go to bed. My weapon of choice has been threats of her Elsa Halloween costume heading straight back to Amazon with the delivery man (mamas, sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do, yes??). Her whining and inching towards the door signals further opposition. Charlotte, you’ll have to walk your school Halloween parade without a costume if you’re not in bed. Now. That usually has her leaping back under her covers. Surrender, till it starts up again the next night. Oh yes, I can resist this face.
A quick, desperate prayer for patience gives me some miraculous strength to try and explain why we need sleep - deep, uninterrupted rest.
Char Char, do you know why we need sleep? It completely recharges us, like a battery, like on mama’s phone or laptop. Do you remember what happens when those things aren’t plugged in to recharge?
They shut off and go black, mama.
Yes, sweets. They do. And that’s what happens when we don’t let ourselves rest and recharge - we completely shut down and don’t work the way we’re supposed to.
Her little nod then immediate impulse to go squeeze in more play reminds me so much of my tendency to resist rest, too. How I’ll remind myself of my need to power down, then let my mind wander to the list of things that have yet to get done, the distractions that convince me that I, too, can squeeze in a few more things.
I’m re-learning in this season of a seemingly infinite task list that the promise of the hustle is truly a facade; there will always be more to do and today will never cut it. Rest is an active choice, an active surrendering to our humanness - the inability and impossibility to ever do it all. In the stillness are reminders of grace abounding, that my life and the work waiting ahead is only possible because of the One who continues to go before me, not because of the things I've accomplished for the day. Praise, praise, praise.
choosing rest again,
pat
