Let's Talk About...Rest

This past month, the spiritual body was celebrating advent. We were all in preparation to celebrate the remembrance of the coming of our Savior. Without realizing it, we revisit the coming days of Christ closer in detail than we think. Bring yourself back to the last two weeks specifically. The hustle and bustle. Everyone at work seems to be crunching so nothing is left undone before the holiday break. The shoppers are hunting for every last morsel that can fit in the crevice of a stocking. The chefs are bagging every ingredient needed to feed visitors, expected and unexpected, the day of and the day after. Everyone is in a scramble. We all seem to be trying to travel in every direction at the very same time. In a word, it’s ‘chaos’. It’s a much more superficial kind of ‘lost’ than the world we knew thousands of years ago.

But now, every 25th of December we stop, celebrate and remember that the end of our lost days is coming. God gives us the ultimate gift, of a son. A lamb without blemish. A worthy sacrifice. A prophecy fulfilled. He gives us, ‘rest’.

The days leading up to Christmas Day seem like a blurred memory to me now. I remember feeling intense fear, anxiety, and experiencing biological chemical reactions of depression. I look back now and replay the memory of what can only be described as a zombie-existence. I was very much functioning, and mobile, but I was not of my own sanity. I was weak, getting by on the thread of a string of memories from better days. I can say now, I attempted* to be hopeful, to be optimistic. I awaited for the time we’d be reunited with family and finally feel the relief and assurance that Connecticut was home. That maybe we made a mistake in leaving and we had to leave, and come back, to see that Connecticut was where we should be, where we could be. It would all make sense that, the reason everything was going so awful in Georgia was because we weren’t meant to be there. Soon, it would all come full circle, and I’d have my confirmation. And I did. But not the one I was expecting.

Thursday morning, Christmas Eve came. Armani and I surprised his mom and sisters with our arrival back to our home state. The tears flowed and the laughter raged. It was a reunion of the heart. We extended the day with more family and more tears and rejoicing. It was a beautiful day of family. We rested. Friday came and it was my mom’s turn. We spent the day with her, cozied next to the glow of the christmas tree with coffee and hot cocoa in hand, tucked under the smell of a warm meal preparing on the stove. We watched holiday movies and laughed over stories, old and new. It was a peaceful day of comfort. We rested. Saturday was a day for ‘dad’. First was my father’s house to surprise him, my stepmom and my siblings. Unlike any other time, we poured into a current of conversation. For hours we spoke and expressed. What a pivotal moment it was for my immediate paternal family. I shared my adult ideas with my Father and we spoke as acquaintances instead of parent-to-child. My sister flooded us with an outpour from her heart, that will sit with me as long as I’m alive. I saw her for the woman she’s becoming and not the little sister she’s always been. And what a woman she’ll be. A result of the light that she is. As the clock grew in it’s narrow tick, we had to leave for one last visit. Wiser than we came, we said goodbye, content and with love. On to Armani’s dad. We were blessed with the flexibility to surprise his brother and sisters, his father and even his grandmother. Another night of family and exchange, catching up and never ending “I Miss Yous”. With one last dinner with my mom, and even an unplanned visit from friends who have become like family, we ended our night with full minds and even fuller hearts. It was a productive day of fulfilling conversation. And we rested. The morning came before the sun and we were making our way back to Georgia. Our trip was filled with family, comfort, enlightenment and overflowing love. With every minute submitting to the next, giving us another moment of happiness, another memory to hold on to.

Now, back home, I came back with something I wasn’t expecting. My energy. I didn’t realize that these last 3 days were a time of rest for my weary soul. This Christmas, God’s gift to me was, rest, not in the literal sense (though I shamefully, and a bit unashamedly, admit that we took a much needed 18 hour nap), but internal rest. I don’t have the natural words to explain what God did supernaturally for me. I stepped foot on Georgian land with an excitement and hunger to sew back into an unfinished crop. I awoke today, afraid, but afraid of not ceasing my time here. I was anxious, but anxious to begin working again, to get behind my camera, to explore, to network, to create! No longer feeling like a zombie, mobile yet empty- but very much alive, enthusiastic and expectant! The days of advent seemed to prepare me for rest. A rest that would rejuvenate. Once again, God reminds me of His Love, His Mercy, His Grace. He reminds me of a gift that saves. A gift that reminds me to rest, in Him.

“Till he appeared and the soul felt its worth. A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices, for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn;”