“He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters.”
Psalms 23:2 ESV
I had the most peaceful morning. I had slept so very well, the kind like a Saturday morning when it was just natural to sleep in.
Then I was easy on myself, I sipped coffee with the “grand-dog” near and eventually made myself breakfast, well, it was brunch.
It was to be a challenging day. I decided not to rush.
It felt like the right choice.
Interviews today, the call back for seconds, there would be three of them.
The first, a sharply dressed young woman.
I listened as she answered their questions, a panel of four, plus me.
She was articulate and graceful and I noticed the tremor in her voice, the sound that became less possible, the strain of nerves, a rush of something taking control.
I paid attention as she continued, answered tough questions about some things she didn’t really know.
She, a year older than my youngest child and she was an applicant for my job.
I watched as she continued, a question posed about management style, multi-tasking and de-escalations of conflict.
She answered without pause, said she’s a big believer in therapy and she had at one time thought it unimportant, her emotional self-care.
She talked about mental health, used the subject in a sentence about her church. Every area of her life, she had exposed to the light of the needs she knew, her own and others’.
Now she knows, she knows the value of taking care, of being alone.
The necessity of a sort of reset.
Had it been appropriate, I would have told her thank you, thank you for that.
Because you are brave.
Brave enough to know yourself and to continue the pattern you know that is right for you.
The thing that keeps you well, not just “fine” or pushing through.
This morning, I realized how desperately I was in need of rest.
It was so good, the way I slept.
Like I’d been out for a while and all the while someone so kind had been keeping their kind heart and eyes on me.
The word “recovery” came to mind and it seemed odd because I am well.
It was fitting though, this sense of this season representing recovery from exhausting patterns I’d become accustomed to.
I so greatly needed rest, I’d been unable to feel my own fatigue.
Until I began to see
you need it.
It’s an inward shift.
Today, I mentally applauded someone who admitted at one time anxiety made her weak and that now rest keeps her strong.
And so she listens to her mind, her body, her soul and she goes to the place that whispers.
Come away, get to the place you call rest.
You can rest now.
Peace is not found in a fainting towards the finish line pursuit, rather in the place you left it last to continue yet another exhausting other pursuit.
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”
Psalms 23:1 esv