I received a gift early this year.
Shingles. Not the kind you put on your house; although I really need to get some quotes for those too.
No, the kind that first shows up as little shooting pains through your skin, then wipes you out before finally making a full on entrance with unwelcome patches, red and sore.
While I wouldn’t have chosen shingles as a gift this Christmas, I am trying to embrace it such because I am now in a forced state of rest.
“Rest here and happy. Rest happy as only children can be happy in the days before Christmas. Rest happy and love this story of a coming King who prepares the downtrodden for Christmas by becoming the Way, who lays Himself down in the creche, on the Cross, so we can lie down and rest. You are unconditionally accepted and unbelievably wanted because you don’t merely know of Him; you are related to Him by blood.”
Rest. Rest from the performing. From trying to be all things to all people. Rest in who He is because when I rest in who He is, I can truly be who I am.
I’m going to rest. Join me?