Rest

"You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you." Isaiah 26:3

The other night, at the end of my sweaty, novice yoga ‘practice’ for the day and at the instruction of our teacher, I attempted to enter into a state of ‘rest’—my feet spread out in front of me, my back resting against the hardwood floor cushioned by my thin, blue mat, and the palms of my hands poised upwards toward the sky as if in a wordless yet fierce inviting. I choose the word ‘attempted’ carefully… You see, even amidst the challenge of holding countless yoga poses presented throughout my class (the ones where you will find me in a perpetual state of teetering and falling by the way), the movement into relaxation is always the point in the class that confuses my body, mind, and spirit the most.

Somehow even after thirty-five years in the daily ‘practice’ of living, the concept of ‘rest’—true rest, the kind that is said to be marked by peace, wholeness, and a surrendering of the mind, heart, and soul to God still eludes me most of the time.

I will back up and tell you, that if you were to spend any amount of time in the internal trappings of my mind, you would discover a cycle of spinning questions, worries, judgments, self-critiques, laments, desires, and hopes…and then more worries and self-critiques. In the story of ‘Martha and Mary’ in the Bible through the telling of Luke 10:38-42, I, in my natural state, am the proverbial ‘Martha,’ struggling to hear the gentle words of Jesus saying, “(Beloved Jill), you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one” while my hands remained clinched around what I desperately seek to control like a child who you find hiding just around the corner holding tightly to gooey remnants of a secretive piece of chocolate that has since melted in their hands…

As I continued to attempt to move into a state of rest on the mushy cushion of my yoga mat that night, my teacher’s words continued to move me farther along as she directed, “Trust the Earth beneath you, it is strong enough to hold you. It will keep you.” I was struck in this moment by this simple yet profound truth as if it swept anew across my mind and caused my limbs to relax deeper into the floor that was indeed holding me. It was a simple truth that when laid conscious in front of me I could not deny. I was ushered back to the gentle whisper of Jesus who echoed, “I have you. I got this. I am strong enough to hold you. I am on your side.”

As I meditate on the scripture in Isaiah 26, “You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you” my ‘practice’ enlightens especially as I continue to read the next verse, “Trust in the Lord forever for the Lord, the Lord himself is the Rock Eternal.” So much stronger than the hardwood floor that undeniably held my body, our Lord, is a ‘Rock’ that is ‘Eternal.’ His words, His presence, and His body of believers that surround me today and since the beginning of time hold me. Love and rest, then, is when I realize that He is on my side—that he has my back forever and always, even in the midst of judgments and worry and self-critiques that assault my mind. And alas, I can let go, little by little, more and more of these superfluous, deadening thoughts as my mind believes Him and finds rest.

My ‘practice’ then in living out of the true rest and peace described in Isaiah 26:3 becomes a process of remembering. It is today remembering that He is on my side, and that I can let go of my defenses, and open my chocolate stained hands and hold his hand. It is today remembering that above my worries and judgments, ‘only ONE thing is needed’—trust in Him. And it is today remembering that my journey towards trust and rest is simply ‘practice’ and that I don’t have to have it all together. He in his graciousness understands my ingrained tendencies and my scattered wanderings so much so that my ‘practice’ consists simply of setting my mind back on Him again and again and toward more and more rest and peace as He guides me.

written by: Jill Garman