Rest is an important part of life and, as we both know, has a huge impact on our emotions. While rest, such as sleep, is great, spiritual rest is something harder to come by. We can take a pill to get 8 hours of sleep, but we can't take a pill to become closer to God. It would be great if we could just pop a pill down our throat and somehow get rid of all of the evil that we are capable of, but if we did that, we'd been sending that to the Middle East instead of fighting (that isn't to say sending some of those hypothetical pills to the capital wouldn't be a terrible idea either). But since it isn't that easy we have to figure things out for ourselves, which is hard enough to do when we have time, never mind when we can barely get ourselves to drive our cars down the road to work in the morning. For instance, my laziness is so bad that when I had to go to the post office mail something, I looked at their hours, realized I had slept through when they were open then decided it could wait until the next week.
I guess I'm more motivated when I have things to do. I worked the last two years of high school full time, averaging about 3-4 hours of sleep a night, but I still managed to get A's, earn a raise, play lacrosse, go to church 2-3 times a week, pray daily, council my mother, deal with a drunken father, and drive the 100 miles a day between school, work, and home. Now I complain if I get anything less than 12 hours of sleep and I don't even think of going to church more than once a week. I will say that without church during those two years, I don't think I would've made it. I'm pretty sure starting my day out in the chapel with the aspirings gave me the strength I needed to get through the day. I would sit in the back, next to Sister Mary Bertha with her gold and pearl rosary beads, head down, with her white habit covering her face, and watch the mass as an observer. I was intrigued by the dedication of everyone in the room, so consumed by their faith in God. I wanted to have their faith, but I didn't know where to start.
Sister Mary Bertha always tried to show me why God put certain obstacles in our lives, but there were parts of my life she knew her words couldn't heal, she told me she understood what happened by the look in my eyes, I never understood how she knew, she just did. She would tell me about her life in Italy and how much God had provided for her over the years, and how she knew He would do the same for me. She told me I would eventually find my way and learn to trust God completely, and He would help me understand what it meant to rest. I just wish "rest" would come quicker. Its not that I never feel at rest with God, I just always wish it would last a little longer.
No comments:
Post a Comment