Rest

I remember swinging in a rope hammock in my Uncles old backyard during one of many family get-togethers. My eyes are closed and I'm not sleeping, but I know by keeping them shut I will be left alone to just swing and enjoy the breeze. One of my older relatives walks by and makes a comment about how cozy I must look and I know that for a moment my relatives admire my small 5 year old frame snuggled in the hammock, and reflect on the simplicity of childhood. I can hear younger siblings and cousins voices echo around me as they run in circles, laugh and play. I hear the many conversations of all the adults lingering about, conversations which I will listen to briefly before abandoning them in favor of my own thoughts. I can smell the fresh scent of summer, the aroma of newly cut grass mixed with the poignant odor of a fiery grill. And I am at rest.

I remember laying in my sleeping bag at Hopeville Pond under the thin veil of stretched nylon surrounding me on all sides. The rain dances above me in a rhythmic pattern as it drums the tent. I am fully awake, but the last to rise on this and many other mornings. I breath deeply the smell of rain as it breaks to let in the fresh blueberry pancakes on the grill and my mothers morning cup of coffee. Sounds echo through the tall pine trees sprinkled through the campground, and I can hear children already riding around on bikes, babies crying, and mothers yelling across campsites warning their children to not wander. If I could suppress my hunger and desire to seek out adventure, I could lay here all day.

Today I lay on the couch in my living room. It is still a little stiff, not quite broken in, but it is all I need to steal a few moments of rest. The moist air brushes past the white window curtains, tossing them gently aside. I hear cars passing by on the street, and my husband tinkering about, finishing his afternoon projects. I smell a familiar scent, one mixed with the memories of summers spent outdoors, and the comfort of being surrounded by family. The musical mobile hanging above Jada's crib lets out a few faint notes before ending it's song, and I fall into a deep slumber.

"Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly."
Matthew 11:29-30