The Bread of Idleness & the Spinach of Rest

Oh, those long gone days when my babies would fall asleep anywhere, anytime, all the time, and transfer without stirring from person to person, from carseat to crib and back again.  Such thick, deep sleep.  Such trusting rest.  Ironically, even as I’ve been mulling over thoughts of rest today, even as I rediscovered this sweet old photograph, these same dear children have joined forces to wage ultimate war against nap-time and bedtime. But I digress…

I got thinking about rest, and the concept, after reading this last night. (It’s good, check it out.) I know my blog has been a big cheer-leading camp for Ann Voskamp lately.  But there’s something about her writing that both surprises me and resonates with feelings I’ve yet to articulate.   So I was thinking about rest, real rest, and then I came across these words today, concerning a wife of noble character: She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. -Proverbs 31.27

And it occurred to me, how often, in need of rest -genuine restorative rest, I opt for idleness instead.  My heart longs for connection, for meaning, for purpose in the midst of the often mundane tasks of housekeeping and mothering, and instead of allowing myself to enter into the rest that would fill my heart with life and ease the burdens and shed the light of grace on those tasks, I take a break to check Facebook or (my newest addiction) Craigslist.  I make another cup of coffee or, if I’m lucky, like tonight, escape for some retail therapy to recharge.  Not bad, in and of themselves- coffee, shopping, social media- but not life-giving, burden-lifting, or grace-filled either. The bread of idleness. The carbohydrate of idleness – the most common source of energy, but no essential nutrients.

I’m weeding out these lesser loves. I am longing tonight for a heart that rests – with the trust of a newborn baby and the fierce intentionality of the Proverbs 31 woman.

Easter & Life

In the wake of the heartache I’ve experienced these last few weeks, I’m finding such comfort in the gift of Spring – harsh, driving rain that pounds down with permission- even expectation- to grieve, followed by the first truly warm, jacket-free, flower-blooming days – an invitation to get out, be grateful, and keep living fully.  All this coincides with Easter, too:  my favorite holiday, an opportunity to stop and dwell on the person who matters most to me, and the gift of life He gives.

As you think about Easter, I want to share a two little gifts with you, both of which I came across through friends.

The first is a blog.  My friend Larissa introduced me to the idea of an Easter Garden, pictured above.  It was created by Ann Voskamp, and after reading her description of the process, I was quickly drawn in to her blog, A Holy Experience. I’ve been so comforted and re-centered by her writing.  Ann’s blog sets out to be “a still chapel” and it has been that for me this week.  Her writing has such a pure goodness to it. Take a minute, and read it when you have the time to soak it in, not in a frenzy of internet blitzing.  It’s good.  Also, check out her heartfelt and beautiful ideas for celebrating Easter, and more details on making your own Easter Garden– steeped with meaning and hands on learning for your family.

The second little gift is a song, that I discovered by way of one of my favorite blogs, b*spoke.  Bethany posted this just today, and it brought me to my knees.  The words tied my grief up into a tangible parcel and placed it right where it belonged, at the foot of the cross. It’s called Out of the Depths, by Sovereign Grace Music.  Here are some of the lyrics, or listen to it here.

The secret mysteries belong to You/ We only know what You reveal / And all my questions that are unresolved/ Don’t change the wisdom of Your will/ In every trial and loss / My hope is in the cross  / Where Your compassions never fail

As we embrace Good Friday and Easter this weekend, I hope your heart (and mine) is soft and open to the whispers of God – His mercy, His faithfulness, the gift of His life.