An Invitation to Rest
When the pandemic began in 2020, and the city I live in went into its first lockdown, I remember thinking, “We’ll make the best of it. We’ll hunker down and be cozy at home. We’ll eat lots of homemade soup. We’ll bake. We’ll craft. We’ll be the Ingalls family during the long winter.” Our usual in-person commitments became digital, and at first, it felt fine. Like a fun challenge. How much normalcy could we maintain while under stay-at-home orders? And we did manage for a while, but as spring blossomed and then turned into summer, it became harder to maintain a positive mindset. We craved in-person contact with people other than ourselves. We missed the normalcy of simply getting out to our favorite venues without masks. We got super tired of being on screens.
Let’s be honest: it’s exhausting. All of it. We have mask exhaustion, hand sanitizer exhaustion, Zoom exhaustion. Every time I leave the house, I have to make sure everyone has a mask (and make sure I have spares handy, too, since my small people occasionally lose one along the way). I have to make sure I have hand sanitizer in my bag. We’ve scaled back our digital interactions because, as much as we long to see people, we long to be offline even more.
We’re a month into 2021, and I would say that while we have gotten used to living under pandemic-related restrictions, that doesn’t mean we have forgotten the restrictions are there. While staying home may have sounded like it was going to be simpler, if anything, many of us probably have had more to do because of the pandemic. We have had to supervise kids who are attending Zoom school. We have had to take greater care grocery shopping, visiting the doctor and dentist, interacting with the postal carrier and UPS delivery person. If we are immuno-compromised, we may have spent almost a whole year feeling cut off from the outside world, handling everything from shopping to a visit to the DMV through some kind of workaround. If we work a “necessary” job, we may worry every day about contracting the virus and bringing it home to our families. We may have been separated from our elderly or fragile loved ones by doors and windows, or by at least six feet of space.
In our pandemic-controlled world, self-care matters more than ever. Rest–not just physical but mental, emotional, and spiritual rest–matters more than ever.
With that in mind, we’ve put together a free 40-day devotional on rest. A Path to Soul Rest: 40 Days to a Slower Pace, is available for immediate download.
For each of the 40 days, there’s a short essay, Scripture to read, and reflection questions for pondering and/or journaling. Our goal is to help you assess where you are, what you need, and how to move forward into a season of greater soul care.
We’re going to be reading A Path to Soul Rest as a community as well, in The Glorious Table Facebook group. I invite you to join us there starting February 17, and for the following 40 days.
February 17 is Ash Wednesday, so if you observe Lent, it’s perfect timing for that. And if you don’t observe Lent, know that it’s not a requirement. Whether you decide to look at A Path to Soul Rest as a Lenten devotional or not, I’m confident it will speak to your need to consider the role of soul rest in your life. We’d love to prayerfully accompany you on that journey.
To download your free copy of A Path to Soul Rest, click here.
I am so excited to read the devotional A Path to Soul Rest. Having participated with a Lutheran Church a great many years, I often felt “giving up something” for Lent left me empty. About 10 years ago, I decided that I would add something spiritual into my life during lent. Usually it’s a special devotional, but over the years it has been one of the following; Donating a significant amount of time to an ill friend, putting more money into the offering plate, making home cooked food for the elderly in my Bible study group, keeping a daily gratitude journal, etc. That is what works for me. I feel closer to God when I give rather than give-up something.