Lately I’ve felt like a bit of a nomad – from traveling with work more frequently and having things scheduled on back to back weekends. At the same time, I’ve felt the pressure of work gradually rising, with patience gradually dissipating.
So when I realized the weekend I thought I had free was the one that I had promised two friends that they could come and stay with us on Saturday night, I felt very conflicted. On the one hand, I was very excited, while a whole other part of me yearned for peace and quiet, to have a weekend without anything planned.
Now, as I sit here on this Monday morning, I am convicted by the words I heard on Sunday morning about peace, and how we often associate it as a place where we are alone, or that we are undisturbed. The pastor noted that restful time has become the thing that we strive for the most, and a large idol in our lives. He said that all too often we seek our quiet moments with coffee, and as long as we have this time we are moderately good people – but the moment life challenges those moments are when we are most unhappy.
I see this in myself all to often. I love routine, and the moment that it is jeopardized is the moment I feel restless, I feel as if peace has been robbed once again.
But as my pastor brought to my attention – true peace doesn’t come from anything but God and our worship of him. This is convicting, because it suggests that what I have needed more of in my life isn’t more time for myself, but more time with God.
Now I realize how silly I am to think that restfulness itself will be the solution to my soul – for the treadmill of lifes challenges will never end. If only I could learn from Paul, who in a prison cell found joy, peace, and true rest from praising God.