Freshman year of college was a mix of fun, stress and Easy Mac. I was constantly on the go and I thought my mid-day naps were qualifying as rest, even if I proceeded to spend that entire night, wide-awake, working on a project for school. I was on overdrive.
Then, it caught up to me. I ended up getting sick. as. a. dog. I was grounded, I could hardly move. I had been going, going, going before being forced to come to a screeching halt and rest my body that I had done anything but take care of. I was forced to rest, because I wasn’t going to make that decision myself. As miserable as being sick is, I felt some relief. I was finally getting the rest I so desperately needed. I remember feeling more relaxed than I had in a very long time. It felt good, even if the inability to breathe out of my nose did not.
I believe God allows these things to happen so we’re forced to face a different direction, a new perspective. Sometimes we don’t realize what we need or we don’t want to accept the truth that we need to stop and take a break. The glorification of busy, and all that.
Yes, that would be my poor, pathetic phone sitting in a bag o’ rice right there. It decided to take a little swim this morning. Considering how clumsy I can be, I am surprised this had yet to happen. I thought it was okay for a while, but at the gym a weird message started to pop up and my heart started racing. I quickly turned my phone off while nursing a mild panic attack and stopped by the store on the way home to buy rice where it’s now nestled and (hopefully) drying out thoroughly. Perhaps my phone needed a rest as much as I did that first year of college.
Then it hit me, I needed rest from my phone.
It’s oddly relieving (and a bit unnerving) to not have my phone on, right by my side. It’s practically my third arm at this point. I am always on it, even when I don’t need to be. I am on it after I pick Adam up from work, I am on it while family is in town, I am on it when I should be creating, when I should be engaging with those I love. The truth that I don’t want to accept is that I am on it too much.
I’m tempted to turn it on tomorrow morning, but I am making myself wait until Wednesday morning. A 48-hour break. An experiment in patience and potentially saving us hundreds of dollars that we don’t have to buy a new one.
What do you know? There it is again. That feeling of relief. That feeling of forced, yet much-needed rest.