Work. Housework. More work. More housework.
So when we had unideal nap time on a day when I really wanted this "me" ... uh ... "work" time, I was not thrilled when a quiet little voice in the back of my heart said, "Stop. Sit. Wait."
I headed to the door, willing to ignore it, but my heart tugged me back and I reluctantly fell backward into the soft rolls of my rocking chair. Wishing I had something productive to do while I stopped, sat and waited (where is that phone and why isn't my email downloading on it today!?), I noticed the Bible sitting under the lamp.
It was one of those moments where the last thing I wanted to do was look at it... (yes, I have those) but I picked it up and opened it up, lost and uninspired, to the very beginning. (Definitely uninspired.)
And then I started to read.
The creation story. The one I've read probably hundreds if not thousands of times. The story I've told my little boy at least 10 times since he was born. Yes, the very one I spent five days of the last week teaching about.
And yet, in all of that, it hit me in a new way again. (Okay, IT didn't hit me. God Himself hit me. Okay, He didn't hit me... you get what I mean.)
It was the part about rest... and it wasn't just a slap in the face telling
me I am taking too much on or doing things in my own strength. It was the reminder that the reason that God rested was that "It was good."And that the reason He wants me to rest is because what I've done is good!
I want to spend my life loving, respecting, and working in team with my husband, lavishing on and training up my little boy, and using my time to help people in a very tangible way. I want to do that well.
And when the week is over, I want to remember that I've done good.
Getting bubby to sleep sucked. The emails waiting to be answered were still there when I got back. And so was the ant infestation I noticed on my way to the bedroom.
But my heart... my heart was at rest.
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