Work, Play, Rest

I went a little bit crazy while studying for my graduate school comprehensive exams.  I ate, slept, and breathed that material.  I turned into an obsessive studying machine.  One evening my husband convinced me to take a break and go out to dinner and a movie.  We were sitting in the theater watching the previews and he leaned over and whispered fiercely, “you are studying right now in your mind, aren’t you?”  And he was right, I was going through material in my head.  I had totally lost it.

We all need work, play, and rest.  If we spend all of our time and energy engaging any one of these activities, our overall well-being will suffer.  If we neglect any one of these activities, our well-being will suffer.  We don’t necessarily need an equal balance of each, and what we need shifts with the seasons of our lives.  However, at any given time, work, rest, and play must all be present in adequate quantities.

My definition of work is very broad- anything creative or productive, any investment of self into a project or job that requires exertion or labor.  For the artist, anything that aids in the creative process can be work.  For the stay-at-home parent, diaper changes, bottle feedings, and story time are work.  Planting a garden, vacuuming the carpet, and writing a blog are all work.  So is going to work every day and fulfilling your job description, whatever that may be.

When I was studying for comps, my life was all about work.  There was very little time for rest in any form, and virtually no time for play.  When people live like this, they stop feeling human.  They become machines, moving from one task to another without seeing the people or relationships in their lives and without enjoying the beauty in the world around them.  Inevitably, they become stressed, cranky, and generally unpleasant to be around.  When I get into this zone, I don’t even enjoy being around myself.

On the other extreme is people whose life does not include enough work.  I believe that we were created in the image of a God who is active, who creates, who moves.  We reflect this image when we work, and if do not invest ourselves and our resources in something, we start to feel off.  We feel listless and lazy, useless and irrelevant.

The next essential element is play.  I have found myself asking quite a few adults lately what they like to do in their free time.  Many have a very hard time coming up with an answer.  As adults, many of us lose our ability to play.  We spend our time working, then collapse on the couch with the TV until it’s time for bed.  I am not anti-TV, and I do think that watching a show that you enjoy can count as play.  But that can’t be your only type of play.  What are (or were) your hobbies?  What amuses you and brings you joy?  What excites you and makes you laugh?  Is vacation the only time that you play?  That seems like an unfortunate way to live.

The lack of play seems more prevalent than the over-abundance of play, but both exist.  People who play all the time, at the exclusion of work and rest, quickly become self-centered and can easily fall into addictive traps.  Think of the teenager spending all day and all night in his room playing video games, or the compulsive gambler.  We need play, but we need more than play.

And finally, we need rest.  We need to sleep, we need to recharge physically and emotionally.  We need to nourish our bodies by stopping and eating real food.  Our hearts and our minds need silence sometimes, time to be still and quiet.  Rest seems to be the first thing to go in our busyness-obsessed culture.  The first thing we cut out is quiet time of reflection and the second is sleep.  We are a sleep-deprived culture and a rest-deprived nation.

Some of the best parts of life come when the lines between work, play, and rest are blurred.  We are in our element when we find work that we enjoy and find rejuvenating.  We feel alive when we work hard, play hard, and fall into bed ready to rest.  We are happiest and most energized when all three elements are present in our lives.  When one of these elements dominates our lives, we begin to feel off, restless, and unsatisfied.  We need all three.

I challenge you to take a few restful and reflective minutes to think about work, play, and rest in your life.  Are all three present?  Are they present in a quality and quantity that you feel satisfied with?  If not, it may be a good time to make some changes.

Get Messy

I had no idea how messy children were until I had my own.  Cognitively I understood that babies and toddlers were not neat and clean little creatures, but the experience is so much more than I had imagined.  It’s stickier and gooey-er and wetter and dirtier and overall more tactilely disturbing than I ever could’ve dreamed. 

But as messy as children (especially toddlers) are, the truth is that they are no match for the messiness of relationships.  Relationships and love and commitment are incredibly messy, unpredictable, and complicated.  I have heard many people say that they wish relationships were not so hard, they wish marriage were easier, or they wish that having and maintaining deep friendships did not take so much work.  And truly, it would be nice.  But, it doesn’t seem to happen.  Almost anytime you care for and invest in another person, at some point there is hurt involved.

It makes sense, doesn’t it?  Each of us comes into relationships with our own history, our own expectations, our own personality and communication style.  This history, expectations, and personality meets a totally different history, expectations, and personality.  Together, we build a relationship that over time creates its own history, houses unique relational expectations, and has its own patterns and personality.  That’s a lot of factors, a lot of complexity, and a lot of opportunities for misunderstanding, selfishness, cruelty, and pain.

I know this.  I believe that this is true, and I have witnessed the pain that relationships can cause.  The shattering impact of betrayal, the empty brokenness of abandonment, and the unrelenting ache caused by repeated thoughtlessness.  Humans seem almost endlessly creative in the ways that we hurt one another.  And yet, I choose to daily engage and go deeper into the relationships in my life.  I encourage people to seek community and connectedness, to push closer into their relationships with one another.  Why?  Why risk the hurt and complication that seem almost inevitable?

Because I believe it’s the only way to really live.  We can pass through life alone, but it won’t be any kind of life.  We were not created for isolation.  We were not meant to live life protected in a solitary bubble.  We need each other, desperately.   I believe that relationships are the primary tool that God uses to shape, grow, and heal us.  Our desire and need for connectedness is a direct reflection of the image of God.  God is in constant, deep relationship with Himself through the Trinity, as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  We reflect the deeply relational nature of God when we pursue true relationship with one another.

This pull toward relationships is so deeply a part of our nature that we will suffer deeply if we deny it.  If we refuse to risk, refuse to engage, refuse to take part in real relationships, we will be destroyed.  C.S. Lewis wrote, ““To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”

Refuse relationships with others, and you will refuse relationship with God.  Refuse relationships with others, and you may protect yourself from one kind of pain only to dive into another kind of misery.  You will also miss out on all the joy, all the beauty, and all the pleasure that relationships bring.  For just as surely as there will be hurt, real relationships bring joy, support, healing, and encouragement.   And it is worth it.

In some ways, it would be nice if children came without all the mess.  A part of me longs for a life with  fewer dirty diapers, spit- up stains, and drool.  And that’s okay.  It’s not unlike wishing relationships could always be pain-free and easy.  But neither wish is a reality, and I believe that if they were, we would miss out on some wonderful, quintessential aspects of both children and relationships.  As ridiculous as it sounds, there is something almost sacred about a drool drenched baby kiss.  When a sticky little hand reaches up for mine, there is something in that moment that is so beautiful it takes my breath away.  There is beauty in the mess.  And, I have seen beautiful things grow from very painful parts of relationships. 

And so, we risk.  We risk the pain, hurt, and heartache than can come, because we believe in the joy and beauty of relationships.  We believe we were made for this, for each other.  We were not meant to be alone.

The Middle

A few months ago I did something I almost never do.  I stopped reading a book in the middle.  It was a good book, one that I hope to get back to soon.  But, I set the book aside because I had a significant amount of reading to do for work and that felt more important than my novel.  Then someone lent me some books, which I wanted to read and return, and now 4 months have passed and the book is still laying unfinished by the side of my bed.

I was thinking about the book the other day in the car, and wanting to know how the story ends.  I found myself thinking of the characters, stuck there, hanging in limbo in my mind.  As far as I know, none of their stories ever resolve, they just stay there in the middle, problems and drama all set out with no resolution in sight.

I hate the middle.  The middle seat is always the worst seat in the car.  My sister claims it’s the hardest being the middle child.  I guess the middle part of an Oreo is pretty good, but you can always counter that bright spot by remembering apple cores and peach pits.  The middle is usually not that great. 

And the middle of problems can be the worst.  You can feel like those characters in my unfinished book, just hanging there, stuck in a never-ending trial.  Or maybe things are moving, but it seems like they are just getting worse and worse.   The middle of a rough season comes before you can see the light at the end of the tunnel, when all you can see is dark.  The happy glow from easier times has faded and there seems to be no hope ahead.  The middle is a very, very hard place to be.

When we are in the middle, we need a little perspective and a little hope.  We need to remember that we are in the middle, that this trial and this season will not last forever.  What we are experiencing now is just a chapter in our story, not the end.  There are times when searching for perspective can lead us a few hours, days, or weeks down the road.  I can remember times in my overdramatic adolescence when my mom would ask me if I would remember this particular disappointment, irritant, or struggle in a few days, weeks, months, or years.  At that stage in life I kind of enjoyed being melodramatic, so I found the question rather irritating.  However, I think that it’s a good indicator of my mother’s wisdom that I can clearly remember her question but not the problems that prompted it.

Yet there are many, many times when this kind of perspective-taking doesn’t help.  Our problems and pain and struggles are things we will definitely remember years down the road.  At these times we need to remember that though the pain and heartache may still matter months and years down the road, we do not yet know the meaning that they will hold for us, or what beauty may grow from them.  We have not yet experienced the work of time, as the passage of days and weeks smooths down the sharpness and intensity of pain.  We may need to mourn, and the mourning may last for awhile.  At these times, our perspective taking is mostly about realizing that we are not alone in the middle.  We can cling to the promise that the One who holds the beginning, middle, and end, holds us too (Colossians 1:17).  We can cling to the promise that He will never leave us or forsake us (Hebrews 13:5).  We are not alone in the middle.

My grandfather is a very wise man, and is one of the most gifted preachers I’ve ever heard from the pulpit.  I can clearly remember a portion of a sermon where he spoke about Psalm 115:150, “Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path.”  He reminded us that when we are walking down a dark path and holding up a lamp, the light usually only shows us our next step.  We take that step, and the light shines on the next step, and then the next.  Our whole path is not usually illuminated by a single lamp or flashlight.  We keep moving forward in faith, trusting the light that shines on each step we take.  When we are in the middle and cannot see the path in front of us, we can trust that He will guide and direct us with every step. 

Help!

The other day we were driving in the car and the Beatles song “Help!” came on.

                Help me if you can I’m feeling down,

                And I do appreciate you being round.

                Help me get my feet back on the ground,

                Won’t you please, please help me.

As I listened, I found myself wishing that people (myself included) would be that direct in asking for help.  It seems that somewhere around age two we develop the notion that “I can do it by myself,” and many of us never quite grow past that conviction. 

In fact, in some ways asking for help is counter-cultural.  We live in a society that prizes and values those who are strong and independent.  We admire those who seem to do it all and we harshly judge those who seem to lean too heavily on others.

But I believe that the ability to ask for and receive help is a crucial life skill, right up there with knowing how to genuinely apologize and looking both ways before you cross the street.  Actually, I think that the ability to ask for help is a lot like looking both ways before you cross the street.  It’s a skill that can keep you from getting smashed to smithereens. 

Life can be hard and painful and difficult.  Sometimes it’s huge obstacles and significant tragedies and sometimes it’s just the steady stream of daily hassles, but either way life can wear us down.  We are human beings with amazing gifts and capabilities, and we are also limited creatures with limited resources.  We were not made to weather the hard, painful, difficult parts of life alone.  We were made for community and connectedness, to be supported and encouraged by one another and to offer our support and encouragement to others.  Perhaps you could make it across that busy intersection without looking both ways, but you’d probably get to the other side stressed, anxious, and quite possibly a bit scraped and bruised.  Perhaps you could make it through this rough season without asking for or accepting the support of others, but you will probably get to the other side worn out and worn down, and quite possibly worse for the wear.

I imagine that some of you may be reading this and nodding your head in agreement.  Yes, it is important that people ask for help.  You may even be thinking of specific ways that you can help a friend you know is going through a rough season.  That’s wonderful.  Now, take it a step further.  How are you at asking for help?  How are you at calling a friend and asking for emotional or physical help during a difficult season?  Could you call a friend and just to talk and cry and seek support?  Could you ask someone to help babysit, pack boxes before a move, or provide a meal after a surgery?  Many of us find it very difficult to accept these offers, let alone ask.

Others may be reading this and shaking their heads in disagreement.  You may pride yourself on your self-sufficiency and independence.  The idea of asking someone for help when you know you can get through this alone seems ridiculous.  I challenge you to think about why the idea feels so absurd.  Is it pride?  Are you trying to do it all on your own because you don’t think you need anybody?  Is it fear?  Are you afraid that you will ask for help and no one will come through?  Are you afraid that people will see you as weak or needy?  Play your own devil’s advocate.  What would you say if someone presented you with these arguments? 

The truth is that we need help in order to live happy and healthy lives.  We certainly need help from God, each and every day.  And, we need help from each other.  I have found that the way that we view asking for and receiving help from other people tells us a lot about the way that we view asking for and receiving help from God.  And that is a really big deal.

We all need help and we all need support.  Let’s practice being as brave and bold as the song and reaching out when we are in need.