Retreating to the Strong Tower

It’s easy to know when someone close to us needs to rest, needs space to recover and catch their breath. We can tell when their notes are out of tune or their rhythm is out of sync. They do things outside of the norm of their character or being. And if we’re good friends we find a way to tell them. Or we offer to take something out of their hands and out of their schedule. We give them permission to step away for a time and to realign. We don’t make excuses for them, but instead we recognize their needs, and out of care we allow them the space they need.

But when these moments come up for ourselves we tend to ignore them or shut them down. We see the stress in our lives, we feel how overwhelmed we are, we sense there is a disturbance in our innermost being that can only be righted with pure rest. But we push it away.

I got sick this week. But it wasn’t a sickness that had a name. If you go by just my vitals everything fine. Blood pressure is normal. Temperature is normal. Glucose levels are normal. But then there’s the congestion and the headache and the fatigue and the lack of focus. The doctor just diagnosed it as “viral”. She felt my shoulders as she was doing the physical exam and said, “Your shoulders are so...tense.” We talked about the stress I’ve been carrying. The phone calls that aren’t coming. The logistics that aren’t getting worked out. The amount of things that need to get done. And I walked out of the room with a letter excusing me from work for a couple of days.

I was at home for three days. Not working. Not doing chores. Not cleaning up messes (except for dirty dishes, because I would like to think I’m a good roommate). Not living my “normal” life. I cancelled things this week that are mainstays in my schedule - things that bring me great joy and put me around people that I love and cherish and bring me life.

And in all of the stuff of life over the last few weeks, maybe even months, it all built up and attacked me. My body said STOP. And so did the doctor. She doesn’t know me, had never treated me before, but she looked over me, examined me, and told me to rest. She gave me permission to recharge - permission I felt guilty giving myself.

I charge my phone almost constantly. I read the articles that tell me that’s counterproductive and makes my battery less able to hold a charge and I don’t even care. I haven’t figured out if that’s true or not because that’s not a game I want to play. If my phone is at 70% I’m looking for a charger. At 50% I’m holding onto every last bit of charge I can, and by the time I get to 20% I just give up, throw my hands in the air, and live with the fact that when it dies it dies. I’m the one who got it to that point anyway. My actions and the way I used my phone caused it to run out of life and I just resign myself to the truth that the only way it gets more is by being plugged in to the thing that charges it up again.

I’m very aware of things and people external to me who need to rest and recharge. I’m also very aware of my own need to rest and recharge. But I’m much less willing to give myself the permission or release myself of the guilt that comes with doing just that. The truth is that rest sometimes takes us away from things that are fun and enjoyable and make us laugh. But if we’re willing to see where rest takes us we won’t be as quick to judge ourselves. When we take our weary selves to One who gives perfect rest and perfect peace, when we retreat to the strong tower that is everything that encompasses the Lord we find exactly what we’re looking for.