where waves grow sweet

My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him. Psalm 62:1

My lunch break walking path

It appears that I’ve neglected to make adjustments in my schedule to compensate for the fact that I am now in a relationship and working full-time. These are both wonderful developments, but there is only so much time in a day. Or so I’m told. What has gotten squeezed out in this oversight is rest. So much so that even when I have time to sleep, I can’t. I am on overdrive, going to bed late and waking up at 4:30 in the morning, exhausted.

So today I hit a wall. Hard. Felt so tired I thought I’d either cry or collapse. But it went deeper than that. It was that I didn’t have rest inside. Not that there was unrest, but I haven’t taken the time so essential to my wellbeing to be quiet, read the word, get replenished. I’m dependent on that connection. We all are, really. Without it, there is bound to be a breakdown in life or function on some level.

I had planned yet another full weekend that left no time to let down, be, sleep, pray, listen, or any other good thing that requires open space. As the idea of intentionality came back into focus, I reluctantly cancelled Sunday’s plans and shifted some other things to make space for the kind of quietness that restores me. Not the brain-numbing-check-out-of-life kind, but a more focused, change-your-whole-outlook-as-you-eat-the-bread-of-life kind.

While I feel a slight loss at the thought of not indulging in friends and activity at every whim, I’m giddy with anticipation about the way the Lord is going to speak this weekend as I make room in my dusty stable of a heart to welcome the King.