The art of a Saturday afternoon

It seems counter-intuitive, but rest isn’t easy. Rest is something we usually achieve in past tense, like a happy accident. (“Wow, I feel so rested!”) It’s harder to know in advance when we need it and how to find it.

The first time I experienced this was in sophomore year, when I learned about Sabbath. I learned about it as time in God’s peace on purpose. I also began to feel it as time we consciously retrieve the view of ourselves that he himself holds, which is with love and contentment.

At the time, now about three years ago, I had assumed this would all be easy-peasy-breezy: just, like, hang out and do whatever. As you can guess,”hang out and do whatever” turned into a test. I realized I literally didn’t know how “to rest.” Similarly, friends at school said they couldn’t take a day of rest because they didn’t know what to do with themselves and were wasting time. Even more befuddling, many activities advertised as relaxing are rather draining. Fascinating, no? I think we have a love-hate relationship with external responsibility: hate because we supposedly want independence and freedom, and love because it’s the easiest occupier of our time. Not to mention we live in a world that insists that importance comes from being busy, when surely our value comes from someplace more inherent.

Well, the internship is accelerating into a challenging, exhilarating kind of thing, I’ve been scrambling in anticipation of an event we have on Monday evening… and I knew that the empty space in my Saturday afternoon needed to be great. How? you may ask, after this big exposition. What magic ingredients resulted in a great and exponentially-growing benefit for the hours and days afterward?

After morning yoga (of course, hehehe), my life boiled down to nail polish, IKEA coffee and Death Cab for Cutie. No biggie. I think it’s because God can bring rest through the tiniest and quietest things, all the more to his glory.

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