Welcome to my soggy penalty box. You didn’t miss much. I just got sucked through whale baleen and am pacing—waterlogged and miffed—combing the krill out of my hair with my fingers. I do NOT have time for this today.
Oh, is this your first movie projected on the interior of a whale belly? Silence your cell phones, pull up some whale tongue, and get ready for some entertainment. God does not disappoint.
That’s me sitting in the middle of Catch Air, drowning in a sea of blaring Kidz Bop music and attempted conversation. I am watching a large, yellow inflatable octopus spin with screeching children wrapped around each tentacle and inhaling a vaguely familiar scent that is either bad pizza or sweaty socks. Grandma is on deck watching Caleb and I am off duty. I am writing my list. This is what I do when I am overwhelmed—I pin all the floating responsibilities jumbled in my head to paper and make them concrete obstacles to overpower with a thin line or a check.
“Stop,” God says. “Rest. Talk to Me.”
Rest? The best I can hope for today is stealing a moment to catch my breath watching a floor-to-ceiling set of shark teeth swallow entropic children whole.
The screen flickers as another round of ocean and krill gets sucked in through the massive baleen filter. We are momentarily weightless then squeezed like a panini in a press. As we fall through empty air onto a pile of krill I realize I failed to warn you about the feeding habits of our theater. Now you look waterlogged and miffed.
Back to the film. Ah, there is Jesus stealing away from the crowds and disciples to spend time with His Father. Often. Jesus in all His Perfection taking frequent breaks—squeezing out all unnecessary distractions and focusing on God.
How much more do I need rest in You, God? I am a wildly imperfect person focused on the impossible task of achieving perfection out of my own strength. I gulp down the saltwater of my own performance and wonder why it only intensifies my thirst. Only You can provide life-sustaining water. Jesus knew that and regularly drank. I pause to look at my list. It is long and fraught with anxiety in the absence of You.
“The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters, He refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for His name’s sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.” (Psalm 23:1-4)
You can reach me even here, can’t you? Even indoor play areas that seem like the center ring of Hades cannot separate me from You or Your love. You can snatch me into this solitary whale cavern and speak to me. You can listen to my concerns. If I ask, You can rewrite my to-do list. When I let You be the lead ox, setting the goal and the pace, the yoke is easy and the burden is light. I can choose to stop, take a breath, and feel the beautiful weight of Your presence all around me no matter where I am.
Lord, thank You that You are Omnipresent. Thank You that I can connect with You wherever I am and that You call me to regular periods of rest. Take my worry that I am never enough as a mom and wife. Take my belief that I have to be constantly active and productive to deserve rest. Take my need to be perfect. Help me leave my list at Your feet to untangle and prioritize. Thank You that Jesus became human and experienced our limitations so He could be our perfect example. Help me choose, as He did, to get the strength I need each day from You. Help me regularly pull You in, filter out the chaos, and truly rest. Amen.
Amen, amen, amen girl! I relate to this SO much! Thank you for so beautifully scripting my life story. God is good all the time. Thank God we can rest in Him alone!