Previous Challenge Entry
Topic: Rest (06/14/04)
TITLE: Rest? You Gotta be Kidding! By Mary Elder-Criss 06/18/04 |
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“Worn out?” he questions.
“Uh-huh.”
“What did you do today?”
“You want the simple version or the detailed one?”
“Whichever.”
“In that case, you get the detailed list.” Inhaling deeply, I launched into the day’s activities.
“Got up at 7, took a shower, roused the girls, fed them breakfast, left for church at 8:30, led the puppet ministry, and cleaned the fellowship hall. Left with our girls and two of their friends, went to the grocery and video store and came home. Fixed lunch, cleaned the house, washed clothes, helped everyone find beach towels for the pool, mopped the floor six times from kids tracking pool water across it, called your family to see who was coming to the cookout tomorrow night, and delegated what they needed to bring. Attempted to work on that memoir project whose deadline was up two weeks ago, and was interrupted sixteen times by the kids in half an hour.
"Gave up on the project, and folded the laundry instead. Fixed dinner, cleaned the kitchen, and drove Emily and her friend to Youth Group. Came back home and added chemicals to the pool. Argued with Erin and her friend about how long they had to wait for the chemicals to dissolve before they could get back IN the pool. After they asked me forty-two more times, I gave up, told them to swim, and prayed that their hair didn’t fall out from the chemicals. Yelled at them six times to get back OUT of the pool so I could go pick Emily up from Youth group. Washed another load of towels, freed two jars of lightening bugs, and one frog, started their video, fixed snacks, and here I am.”
Exhaling sharply on the “here I am ” part, I look over to see Jerry’s eyes have rolled back in his head.
Poking him in the ribs to see if he’s still conscious, I ask him, “You awake?”
“Huh? Oh yeah,” he sits up straighter on the couch, looking guilty.
“Well, you didn’t appear to be.”
“Well, I didn’t know you were going to list EVERYTHING you did today.”
“You asked,” I retorted. “Besides, that wasn’t EVERYTHING. I just hit the highlights for you.”
“Thank God,” he muttered.
“What was that?”
“Oh, nothing.” Quickly changing the subject, he asked me if I was going to bed now.
“Not likely. I’d still like to get a little writing done before I turn in.”
“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”
Obviously, living with a writer for thirteen years has still not educated him enough to our idiosyncrasies to know that is a stupid question.
“No, it can’t.”
“Well, why not?”
“Because it CAN’T, Jerry. If I wait, the idea is gone, finished, missing, a vapor, even.”
“Just thought you might need the rest more.”
“Rest? What is that? Care to define it?”
“It’s what normal people do when they’re tired, Mary.”
“Ah, well, therein you have your answer. I never claimed to be normal.”
“Good thing,” he retorted.
Giving him a scathing glance that could strip wallpaper, I sniff daintily and choose to ignore his last comment as he says his goodnights, and pecks me on the cheek.
Sitting there finally alone, in the quiet, I sigh, thinking of the old quote, “There’s no rest for the wicked.” Should change that to “There’s no rest for the weary,” I mutter to myself, as I haul myself to the den and my computer.
Sitting down, and beginning to write, I discover something amazing. After an hour of pursuing what I love best, the weariness has all faded away.
As I type the closing period, I smile. Turning out my writer’s lamp, I make my way down the hall by the dim glow of the nightlight. As I pull the sheet up to my chin and snuggle down into my pillow, I thank God for another productive day, but most of all I thank Him for the sweet release that comes from exercising my soul. In God’s presence, there is fullness of joy, and wouldn’t you know it, in working for Him, there is also rest.
Now if only this renegade lightening bug would stop blinking, I could sleep.