🍃Finding Moments of Rest
in a very busy season🍃
A boat rocks like a cradle rocking a baby to sleep. Twelve men
stand around the One who calls—
“Come away with me,” He says.
Tired and weary, they climb
into the boat. He takes them to a wild place.
A place of loneliness.
A place of healing and of rest.
The boat approaches the untamed land;
a crowd of people appears.
He longs to return to the boundless waves;
out of compassion, they take deep breaths
and step out of the boat. A brief moment of rest.
Now there’s work to do.
~Inspired by Mark 6:30-34, 53-56
Lent was supposed to bring rest. But few days since Ash Wednesday have held many open spaces for rest. Instead the days have been filled with dance competitions and extra rehearsals, puppy training, weekend and evening meetings, David’s partial return to the office; it’s a too-full Spring calendar that I just wasn’t ready for.
One night last week a friend stopped me as I was leaving a Church Council meeting. “You look a little flustered,” she said with a concerned look on her face. “Is everything okay?”
Nodding my head, I assured her everything was fine. “It’s just been a very busy couple of weeks. I have something every single night this week, and I just want to go home and go to bed.”
“I feel you,” her head nodded vehemently. “The world is opening up far too fast for me.”
“That’s exactly it,” I replied, opening the door to leave. “I guess I wasn’t quite prepared to go right back to normal.”
The truth is, a return to normal has been creeping up on us for some time now. And I’ve increasingly felt like it was too much too fast. I miss the days of laying around re-reading stacks of library books. I miss afternoon family hikes. I miss lazy weekend mornings, and the freedom to say no without feeling guilty.
A few months into the pandemic I talked to a friend about the gift of slow living. One glorious fall day, we met up for an outdoor playdate at a local nature preserve. Our kids were investigating a caterpillar resting on a plant when she commented on how nice it had been to have slow days with her kids. “We all snuggle in my bed and read books in our pajamas every morning.”
I nodded my head in agreement. “That’s my favorite part about homeschooling too.” I dug my boot into the ground and leaned a little closer to her son, trying to capture a picture of the caterpillar now crawling on his hand.
Our friendship was another gift of the pandemic. Unsure about the pandemic, she and her husband chose to take the year off from sending their kids to school. She came to me for advice on homeschooling and in the midst of our conversations over homeschooling and pandemic life, we became good friends.
“Let’s remember this when the world opens back up,” she said. “Let’s not just go right back to the way it used to be.”
Those words of hers stuck with me—and even haunt me now. The pandemic brought an opportunity to change our lives for the better. But in all of the excitement of getting back to normal, we forgot how exhausting the old normal could be.
Just a few days ago, I was lying face down on the chiropractor table—processing all of this out loud—when he gently replied, “We’re doing too much too fast. Our bodies can’t keep up.” I took a deep breath, letting his words sink in as he pushed on the middle of my back. My chiropractor is a very wise man, who always encourages me to find ways to rest. When he finished my adjustment, I stood up and told him thanks. He smiled at me with sparkly eyes. “Relax,” he said. “I know there’s exciting stuff going on, but allow yourself time to rest.”
When thinking about what I wanted to share in this month’s newsletter, I kept coming back to this poem I wrote last summer. I love this passage in Mark because it highlights the very real need for rest, while also acknowledging all the good work there is to do. Jesus claims a few moments of rest and solitude before picking up the tasks of his ministry once again.
The world feels heavy right now. Daily life is busy. War is raging overseas. Political battles line the front pages. Stories are waiting to be told. People are hurting. God is calling. There is so much work to do.
Maybe the beauty of Lent is that it offers us a daily opportunity to repent. To turn away from the demands of the world and simply rest in the loving arms of God. Our calendars may be more full than we’d like, but we can still find ways to rest.
We must.
Centering prayer
Centering prayer is a great way to find a few moments of stillness. The first step is to find a quiet place. I like to do it while sitting on my bed. Or sometimes on the toilet with the bathroom door shut so people think I’m indisposed. You can pick any verse, but my favorite is Psalm 46:10. I whisper the words out loud, but you can also say them silently in your mind. Repeat the verse, leaving off the last word each time. After each line, wait 5-10 seconds, taking big deep breaths, before moving on to the next line. Doing this just once or twice a week is life-changing.
Be still and know that I am God
Be still and know that I am
Be still and know that
Be still and know
Be still and
Be still
Be
Yoga
I began a 30-day yoga journey in January and I’m proud to say I’m still doing yoga more days than not. I didn’t do as great a job in March as I did in January or February, but I am still showing up on the mat several times a week. When I’m on the yoga mat, nothing else matters. The weight of the world falls away, if even for just 20 minutes. The focus for April is Refresh, which feels so relevant for life right now.
Writing on the floor
I am not adjusting to life with a puppy well. Most days I feel like the parent of a newborn, back to the days when my life was not my own. When I had no energy for my own dreams because of a tiny being that needed my constant care. On bad days, I cry over feeling like I’ll never meet my writing goals for this year. On good days, I accept the fact that it might be awhile before I can sit at my desk and write every day again. It’s on the good days that I use the fringe moments of my day a little more wisely. That often looks like sitting on the floor next to the dog crate—with a book or a pen in my hand. Writing can happen anywhere. It may not be the deep writing work I want to do, but writing anything at all brings me life. Even if it means sitting on the floor.
Making easy meals
I pride myself in making really delicious, somewhat complicated meals for my family, but this season of life looks like a lot of pot beans, soups, and meals discovered hidden in the depths of the freezer. They are all still delicious, and my current self is thanking my former self for all the hard work I put in six months ago. The truth is, my family doesn’t really care what we eat for dinner. They will eat anything I put in front of them. What they love most of all is sitting around the table talking about our day.
Playing outside
The one place the puppy isn’t completely insane is outside. It only makes sense—when my kids are going crazy indoors I send them out. The sun is out longer, the temperatures are (somewhat) warmer, and being outside a good chunk of the day is giving us all life. It’s been a joy to watch the bulbs David and the girls planted last year pop up—proof that Spring is finally here. I’ve even begun using the clothesline again!
Going to church
We’ve missed most Sundays during Lent this year because of Autumn’s dance schedule, so I am incredibly grateful that my church is offering mid-week services this Lenten season. Holden Evening Prayer has long been a favorite of mine, and I am honored to have the opportunity to lead the service each week. Although some weeks getting to church on Thursday nights has felt really hard, I always leave feeling refreshed. Autumn has been going with me, and we have found it to be a beautiful time of rest in the midst of our busy weeks.
In the spirit of easy meals, this Pasta with Slow Roasted Tomatoes and Kale is a weeknight special right now. You can use any pasta and any greens you find in your freezer.
In the midst of the busyness, I try to make a more complicated meal about once a week—usually on the weekend. Being in the kitchen brings me so much joy, and I’m usually happier when I can carve out the time to cook. This Taco Torte is one of my favorite meals that is relatively easy, and doesn’t take too much time. It’s always delicious, and always feels fancy. It’s also a great way to use the beans I made earlier in the week, the greens and corn stashed in my freezer, and the tomatoes I canned last summer.
I made this Homemade Hamburger Helper last week (with pancetta instead of bacon) and it did not disappoint. I lived on Hamburger Helper as a kid and this brought me right back to childhood, in the best way possible.
I got beets, cabbage, and potatoes in my latest Winter Farm Share, which means it might be time to finally try borscht. I’ve always been afraid of borscht (or anything with beets really) but the crisis in Ukraine makes me want to pray in the kitchen through cooking. I appreciate Emily Nunn’s recipe because it includes beans and I can usually convince my kids to eat anything with beans in it. This vegetarian version looks good too.
I am still working my way through Kristin Lavransdatter* and it is still just as beautiful as it was when I started it. I’m about 85% done, but the themes are so profound and the writing so gorgeous I’m pretty sure I’ll start reading it again as soon as I finish it.
I’m reading Wintering* with my Mastermind Ladies this month. This book has been on my shelf for more than a year now. As I found myself longing for rest, it practically jumped off the shelf to me. Written as a memoir, I’m finding a lot of freedom and encouragement in Katherine May’s experience of forced rest.
My book club pick this month was I Capture the Castle*. It is a delightful read about a family living in an old run down castle in England. The narrator is a seventeen year old aspiring writer, who journals to practice her writing. Her father is an author who sold a best seller but has suffered severe writer’s block ever since. I had no idea it was a book about writing, but I loved what it had to say about the writer’s life.
As part of our Lenten services at church, we’re reading The Return of the Prodigal Son* by Henri Nouwen. An ekphrastic piece of work, it’s a profound look at the famous painting by Rembrandt and the well known parable of the prodigal son.
*affiliate links
In last month’s newsletter I jumped the gun a bit when I said CODA won an Oscar (sorry for that mistake), but now I can now officially say that it won THREE! If you haven’t watched it yet, do it tonight. Seriously. I just can’t say enough good things about it.
This article about reading made me laugh. This one brought me hope and joy. This one made me want to have a party and eat. And this one made me want to invite all the older people in my life to said party and stay up all night talking about the important things of life.
I love this essay about an ordinary day filled with the light of firsts. This one about how we sometimes have to experience the same music many times in our lives before we realize how profound it can be. And this micro-essay about being in transition.
I’m on a social media fast right now and I’m honestly not sure when I’ll go back. Staying off social media is freeing up time to do other things, which is something I desperately need for the time being.
Over on the blog, I wrote about how the pandemic helped me fall in love with nature and I made a list of places I’ve written over the years.
During the pandemic, I shared some ideas on how to remember Palm Sunday, Holy Week, and Easter at home. I know most of us are back at church in person this year, but if you’re looking for ways to bolster your family time together during these holy days, you might like this post about Palm Sunday, this one about Holy Week, and this one about Celebrating Easter at Home.
A Prayer for the Times
God of Healing—In a world that feels heavy and dark, we put our trust in your promise to make all things new. Fill our hearts with compassion for our neighbors near and far. Grant hope to those living in fear, peace to those feeling anxiousness, and reassurance to those living with uncertainty. Give healing to the sick, rest to the exhausted, and peace to the broken-hearted. Protect the vulnerable and be with all those who serve them. Lord, have mercy.
God of Peace—Be with all people living in places of violence and war. Send your wisdom and love to leaders all over the world; and guide them to effective diplomacy and compromise. Make us instruments of your peace. Where there is hatred, let us sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is discord, union; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. Lord, have mercy.
God of Resurrection—We praise you for your unending love that comforts and sustains even in times of uncertainty and death. Be with all those who mourn the loss of loved ones. Lord, have mercy.
Gracious God, we pray all of these things on behalf of a world in great need, in the name of your Son, Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.
Until next month,
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P.S.
Did you know Substack has a new app for iPhone? I’ve been using it for a couple of weeks now, and it makes reading newsletters SO much easier. You can now read Soul Munchies in the new Substack app for iPhone.
With the app, you’ll have a dedicated Inbox for my Newsletter and any others you subscribe to. You’ll never miss a new post. They will never get lost in your email filters, or stuck in spam. Longer posts will never cut-off by your email app. Comments and rich media will all work seamlessly. Overall, it’s a big upgrade to the reading experience.
The Substack app is currently available for iOS. If you don’t have an Apple device (I’m sorry), you can join the Android waitlist here.