Tip of My Iceberg

It’s been a challenging year and a half.

Social distancing, zoom meetings, masking, and more have made life a new adventure. There’s comfort in what we know; transition is not something many of us do well.

Change is tiring. I’m someone who is comfortable with people, doing rather than sitting, and getting the things done that I see as important.

Key phrase: what I see as important. Not all things are necessary. Isolation would be one of those issues. It’s been crucial, but I don’t have to like it. Trying to connect with people when you’re not present is exertion at a whole new level.

I’m really tired.

My husband has experienced exhaustion to the same degree. Stress has taken on a whole new vibe.

We’re both rotten at resting.

I’m not sure what it would look like for me to rest. Being still and quiet, though necessary, seems out of the realm of possibility for the way I’m wired.

Friends who care about us gifted us with time and space. A cabin in the Blue Ridge Mountains that we would never have considered as something we should do–or could do.

Cabin doesn’t do this place justice. It’s a home of wood with a spectacular view of trees and mountains, accompanied by choruses of birds and woodland creatures. We’ve been here a couple of days and have found our happy place on the deck viewing beauty that is close to indescribable.

Sitting still for any length of time feels uncomfortable. I get antsy, as if I should be doing something of importance, something to prove the value of my existence.

This is a slow learning curve. For so long I’ve defined my worth by what I have accomplished in a day to help others. Having nothing to measure in effort, I’m pausing to reassess who I am and why I do what I do.

I’ve been reminded that my value is not in production nor accomplishment. It isn’t finished reports or the number of assessments I’ve done with others.

I’m being what I was created to be. Dependent on God to define my worth.

In a world of performance and achievements, to recognize I’m not what others perceive but who my Creator says I am, who He has made me to be, is an internal conflict lived out in everyday life.

Work is valuable and necessary; there is dignity in our industry.

I can’t sustain myself with just that. Work without rest won’t last long. Nor is it desirable.

God created the world in six days and on the seventh He stopped, and He delighted in all He’d made. It was a rubric for us to follow. Pause, rest, and enjoy the fruits of our labors.

Resting is not ceasing from all activity; God gives us time to enjoy how and who He has made us to be.

We struggle with discerning between rest, which revives our hearts and souls, and activity, which can become obsessive, even if it’s fun.

There is a time to rest and to work.

Doing either one without the other is lopsided living.

I’m learning to enjoy this holy pause. To wind down. It’s not easy.

But all work and no rest makes Dayle a mess.