It's normal and expected to work when it is time to work, although some people play at working (that's a different topic). But often, I have a hard time resting.
Less so now, but when I first realized the value of resting, it was like my skin had the jitters.
Resting can mean getting enough sleep - and although that's important, that's not what I mean here. I mean being in that state of mind that so trusts God and so lets go of the need to fix stuff that only He's supposed to fix (no matter how long it takes) - that the worries and anxieties don't have a chance to take root.
It took me a fair amount of time to begin to learn how to rest ... actively. Yes, to work at resting. I still have to work at it.
Let me give an example - something pretty close to home.
A while ago, my daughter decided that she wanted to apply for a Canadian passport. The reason she wanted one was because she had / still has a friend in the States and she wanted to visit. Maybe even to go and live there.
My reaction? Instant panic.
The questions abounded, big and little. What if it doesn't work out? how much will it cost us for her to travel / move all that way? will she be able to survive down there with no safety net? what about her plans to go to school or get a job here? are those put on hold or will they EVER come to pass? What will she do to communicate with us? Will I have to take her off my cell phone plan? What if she gets stranded with no money of her own? What if she gets sick and has to see an American doctor - how much will THAT cost? Will we survive financially? And worst - what if we never see her again?
On and on the questions tumbled, one after the other, especially when her passport arrived - just a few days ago. I get a bit of respite from the questions once in a while, but they just keep popping up at odd moments, usually when I am trying to enjoy something else. The panic grows if I let it, and sometimes it comes unbidden - even wakes me up and I have to work hard at dealing with it.
Feeling those feelings of uncertainty ... isn't wrong. It's okay to be concerned about a loved one, to feel unsure about the future. But when it takes over my life, when I can't sleep because it robs me of peace, then it is a problem. And when I try to manipulate the outcome by using guilt and shame, or intimidation - it ends up pushing my loved one away and giving me the very outcome that I fear most.
Every. Time.
It takes a great deal of effort to force my focus back onto the basics, the most important things, the fundamental truths of faith: God is in control. Of everything. I have no control over outcomes; only He does. He loves both me and my daughter; He will look after me ... and her. I need to relax my grip, to learn to let go. The work part is in the fact that I have to keep reminding myself of what is most important.
As the time draws closer and closer to her departure (not even sure of THAT date!) it's really tempting to panic all over again. I can admit that I'm scared. That's okay - it's okay to be scared. What isn't okay is for me to ping all over the place and react (usually badly) and let my fears rule my behavior.
When I work on resting, I know peace. The knots loosen in my stomach. I remind myself that letting go of my need to have my hands on it - even if she makes mistakes - is the only way to do that. I accept what is. Even if I am scared.
It's a lesson that I keep having to learn with every situation. But I have the assurance that God's not going to give up on me. And neither should I.
Less so now, but when I first realized the value of resting, it was like my skin had the jitters.
Resting can mean getting enough sleep - and although that's important, that's not what I mean here. I mean being in that state of mind that so trusts God and so lets go of the need to fix stuff that only He's supposed to fix (no matter how long it takes) - that the worries and anxieties don't have a chance to take root.
It took me a fair amount of time to begin to learn how to rest ... actively. Yes, to work at resting. I still have to work at it.
Let me give an example - something pretty close to home.
A while ago, my daughter decided that she wanted to apply for a Canadian passport. The reason she wanted one was because she had / still has a friend in the States and she wanted to visit. Maybe even to go and live there.
My reaction? Instant panic.
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| I got this photo royalty-free HERE |
The questions abounded, big and little. What if it doesn't work out? how much will it cost us for her to travel / move all that way? will she be able to survive down there with no safety net? what about her plans to go to school or get a job here? are those put on hold or will they EVER come to pass? What will she do to communicate with us? Will I have to take her off my cell phone plan? What if she gets stranded with no money of her own? What if she gets sick and has to see an American doctor - how much will THAT cost? Will we survive financially? And worst - what if we never see her again?
On and on the questions tumbled, one after the other, especially when her passport arrived - just a few days ago. I get a bit of respite from the questions once in a while, but they just keep popping up at odd moments, usually when I am trying to enjoy something else. The panic grows if I let it, and sometimes it comes unbidden - even wakes me up and I have to work hard at dealing with it.
Feeling those feelings of uncertainty ... isn't wrong. It's okay to be concerned about a loved one, to feel unsure about the future. But when it takes over my life, when I can't sleep because it robs me of peace, then it is a problem. And when I try to manipulate the outcome by using guilt and shame, or intimidation - it ends up pushing my loved one away and giving me the very outcome that I fear most.
Every. Time.
It takes a great deal of effort to force my focus back onto the basics, the most important things, the fundamental truths of faith: God is in control. Of everything. I have no control over outcomes; only He does. He loves both me and my daughter; He will look after me ... and her. I need to relax my grip, to learn to let go. The work part is in the fact that I have to keep reminding myself of what is most important.
As the time draws closer and closer to her departure (not even sure of THAT date!) it's really tempting to panic all over again. I can admit that I'm scared. That's okay - it's okay to be scared. What isn't okay is for me to ping all over the place and react (usually badly) and let my fears rule my behavior.
When I work on resting, I know peace. The knots loosen in my stomach. I remind myself that letting go of my need to have my hands on it - even if she makes mistakes - is the only way to do that. I accept what is. Even if I am scared.
It's a lesson that I keep having to learn with every situation. But I have the assurance that God's not going to give up on me. And neither should I.
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