the migrant wife

I have been ill with shingles. With that I have also been extremely fatigued after the rash and obvious symptoms of shingles have healed.

Audiobooks have been a lifesaver during my time resting. I was able to enjoy luscious prose and well-chiseled words – a crystallisation of hard work, deep thought, and a glimpse into the authors world, the writers mind.

It isn’t without its difficulties though. I have been programmed to think that I have to spend every waking hour being productive – adding value to the world around me, serving, producing, doing, all good things. But there is value in rest too. Rest is needed for recovery. Even God rested on the seventh day. A day of unhurried happiness, of abundant generosity, of joy mingled with peace, of vibrant celebration and deep satisfaction.

And yet as frail human beings, why we rest is vastly different than how the God of the Universe rested on the seventh day, in some ways. True, God has rooted the command to Israel to observe the Sabbath in the creation narrative. The lives of His people are meant to reflect the pattern of His character. However we rest because we acknowledge dependence. We are finite beings; we can’t do it all. Rest is an active rebellion against what the world persuades us of: you can do everything you can to be anything you want.

I learnt this the hard way. I am not a super woman, regardless of what I secretly believe (that’s such a silly belief though!) I knead bread when I’m supposed to be lying down. I hoover and mop the entire flat when I was supposed to be napping.