Have you ever stood on the ocean shore and let the tide wash up on your feet and ankles? The longer you stand in one spot the more your heels and toes sink into the moving sand; it is unearthed below your feet, sometimes rather quickly. If you stay where you are you will gradually be totally engulfed by the sand as you sink deeper and deeper down.
Erosion is no respecter of persons.
The beach is a great place to see erosion at work. But we can see it in our lives quite easily as well.
Several sleepless nights all in a row, and you and I feel the effects of physical and emotional erosion quite keenly. The day-after-day drag of a demanding job can bring it on, too. The toll of emotional strain caused by the death of a loved one, a chronic illness, or a broken relationship can wash the proverbial sand right out from under our feet. We sink deeper and deeper, deeper on down until we feel the burden of each step we take, each task we perform, each decision we make.
We need restoration.
We need relief.
We need respite.
Rest is as natural and necessary as work; it is not a last resort, not a resignation, not a sign of defeat. Each time you close your eyes and lay prone for hours in sweet repose you are recharging your human batteries, rejuvenating the psyche, rebuilding the worn muscles of your mind and body.
Just as erosion is natural . . . so is rest. Substantial rest.
The sand is restored on the beach each day. The smooth, firm surface provides enough stability for morning joggers to traverse the compacted tiny grains with confidence. Restoration is almost magical; healing and strength return when one experiences a substantial measure of relief in his/her life.
Have you ever considered all the things rest helps? Rest helps muscle growth, weight loss, nutrition, heart health, mental health, and general physical well being (just to name a few).
Learn to embrace your rest as tenaciously as you embrace your work; it is an integral part of your life. Rest brings strength to your work and tasks, and your work can bring meaningfulness to your rest.
If your work is the Sun . . . the Moon is your rest; they work in concert with one another. Day and night, day and night, the dance repeats, verse after verse. One leads and the other follows, step, step, step; their marriage is a romantic and beautiful love story. They were never meant to live alone.
The tide will come eventually. It has either just departed, or is about to return. But you do not have to fear the tide.
And you do not have to fear its erosive nature.
Rest is on its way.