Sunday. I'm not sure how you spend this day each week, but for me, Sunday is a day of rest. At least that's what it's supposed to be, in theory. Well, not in theory, actually, but in practice.
I'm having trouble with the practice.
I'm not someone who rests well. My husband has perfected the art of the nap, but that's not really the kind of rest I'm talking about here. I don't naturally gravitate toward being still, although I'm not a person who always likes to be moving. When I know the goal is rest, I squirm. I'd be an excellent subject for a scientific study on restlessness. It would be interesting to see how many times I am up and down from the couch when I'm attempting to read a book. This past Sunday, I'd wager it was more times than a toddler at the dinner table.
I don't know why I have such trouble resting. Maybe my brain doesn't know how to be idle. I'm not a daydreamer. Maybe I'm trying too hard. My wise friend Donna says that when we are striving, we are not resting. While I know that's so true, most of the time I still find myself striving to rest! (The irony of that is not lost on me.) Sheesh.
While I was sitting with this dilemma, a fragment of a verse came to me. It might contain the beginnings of my answer. The psalmist said, "My soul finds rest in God alone."
Therein lies the rub.
I've practiced resting on Sundays, remembering the Sabbath day and keeping it holy (to quote the Ten Commandments), for as long as I can remember. But haven't been seeking rest for my soul.
How do I find rest in God alone? Other translations of this verse use the word "wait" for "rest." In order for my soul to find rest, I must wait with God. Again, I ask, how? With over 2200 Sundays of practicing under my belt during my 49 years on earth, the answer still eludes me.
Maybe how is the wrong question.
What comes to mind when you think about rest?