A brand-spanking-new challenge starts tomorrow.  Till then, here's a little teaser for you.  

In the summer of 2009, days before I was to leave on my first extended hiking adventure, my then girlfriend gave me a present – a new journal (made from 100% recycled paper, of course).  Three years later, it has only nine blank pages left.  Literally from cover to cover it’s been filled with my thoughts, hopes, ideas and dreams.  It starts with a number of entries from that doomed hiking trip, describing in detail every waterfall, fork in the road, and twisted ankle.  Later, I’d use that same journal to house my thoughts and first impressions from a road trip – ideas that would become the backbone for my first book, I Repent.  But not everything on those pages is of such great consequence – there are phone numbers, sketches, and even driving directions.  It’s a veritable catchall of important information, an extended snapshot of the last three years of my life.

While this little black journal’s been used for nearly everything, its intended (and most frequent use) has been for writing.  I don’t always carry my laptop with me, so these blank pages are oftentimes the first place I turn when the inspiration bug bites.  This was the case on June 1st, as I returned home from a short vacation in Mount Airy, North Carolina.  It was the first day of a new challenge – one I was calling “Summer in Mayberry,” – in which I would be trying to live a slower, more intentional life, making room for silence, relaxation and rest. 

After unpacking, I found myself with some free time on my hands.  Ready to dive headfirst into this new challenge, I decided to spend some time in silence, sitting on a swing in a prayer garden just adjacent to my house.  As I walked out the door, I grabbed my black journal, almost as an afterthought.  I sat down, tried to clear my head, but couldn’t shake the feeling that I should be writing.  Again and again I tried, but the thought kept creeping back.  Eventually I cracked, opening that worn journal.  For the next half-hour, the words (and even a few tears) flowed.  To be honest, it surprised me.   

One of my favorite movies is the physiological thriller Memento.  Without getting into too much detail, the film actually starts at the end of the story, and as the movie continues, proceeds to take you backward through time, explaining, step by step, how the characters arrived at the opening scene.  Looking back on that night in the prayer garden, as I used the light of the setting sun to scribble in my journal, I can see now that God pulled a Memento on me.  On that first day of June, He gave me a glimpse of the endgame, the lesson He was going to teach me through a month’s worth of practicing rest.  Day by day, as I’ve moved through this challenge, He’s remained faithful to that lesson, making sure I didn’t miss a thing along the way.  And now, as this challenge comes to end, I find myself back where I started.  This time, however, I’m ready to move forward.  These past thirty days have opened my eyes to just how much I’ve needed rest; by no means do I intend to go back on it now.

Below are some of the unedited, deeply personal, stream of consciousness scribblings I put down in my journal that summer night nearly a month ago.  Interestingly, the words I wrote as I began this journey toward rest now seem the best (and only) way to summarize, even eulogize, this experience.  And although I wrote them nearly four weeks ago, they somehow ring even truer now.

Thanks for going on this journey with me.  See ya next month. 


June 1st, 2012: 
This weird thing always happens when I return home from a break from the routine.  I can remember it as far back as elementary school, and even through high school and college.  I’d be gone for a week (Spring Break, Christmas Break, etc.) and upon returning, the night before I get back to the grind, I find myself highly emotional – perpetually on the verge of tears, and honestly, I’ve never quite known why. 

I always assumed it was because I didn’t want to go back to whatever awaited me – work and stress.  But it happened again tonight, as I unpacked my belongings from my trip to Mt. Airy.  The thing is, I love my job.  Working with the youth program at my church has been, by far, the most fulfilling work I’ve ever done.  So why all this emotion?

I believe God is showing me why – maybe He always has been, and I’m just now learning to slow down enough to listen.  Everything in my life seems to be screaming the same thing – the way I’m living in unsustainable.  If I want to survive, scratch that, if I want to thrive, then I need to slow down; relax; listen; breathe. 

I’m the first-born – a perfectionist, type-A personality with a hint of OCD on the side.  Since elementary school (yes, that early), I made myself sick over what I perceived to be my responsibilities.  I had the misguided notion that I, and I alone, had to represent Christ perfectly to a world dying without Him.  I had to save every sinner, beginning with the kids in my 4th grade class.  I remember making a list of who I knew (or thought) were believers and set about evangelizing those who were not.  I even cold-called a few on the phone to see if they’d like to come to church with me.  It seems funny now, but as a kid, that was a very painful experience.  Suffering from a serious stutter, it was hard to talk to someone in person, let alone on the phone – yet I was convinced that if I couldn’t get the words out, I’d be the one personally responsible for their damned soul. 

I held myself to such a high standard that I even developed stomach problems from my worrying and high stress lifestyle – and I was still in grade school!  To a degree, I’ve continued to live this way, even now.  My first year of college was torturous because of all the stress I put myself under, trying to maintain my GPA and scholarships.  Later, as a high school science teacher, I felt the pressure to be innovative in the classroom, get the standardized test scores, sponsor all the events, and lead all the clubs.  After that, I put the weight of caring for my aging grandparents – one with Alzheimer’s disease and the other partially paralyzed by a stroke – squarely on my own shoulders.  My work environment now, as a youth minister, is far and away the healthiest I’ve ever experienced, yet I still find myself shouldering more than my fair share, working myself to bone.  Why?  

At the root of it all, I think, is a desire to make God proud.  All I want is for Christ to see me and be able to say, “well done, my good and faithful servant.”  I want to be special in His eyes, to stand out.  These are all fine and admirable goals – the problem is that my means and ends don’t match up.  I’m trying to work, to achieve, in order to attain a status with my Creator that I already hold.  Since the day of my birth, He’s been counting my hairs, ordaining my footsteps, and lovingly shaking His head as I tie myself in knots to try to earn something that He so freely gives.  I’m His son; He’s already pleased with me.  Every time I get off the phone with my dad, he tells me that he’s proud of me – regardless of if the conversation was about a victory or a defeat.  If my earthly father loves me so dearly, how much more does my Heavenly Father?  It’s unfathomable.  

Before Jesus worked a miracle, taught one lesson or even began His public ministry, God declared His love for His Son.  After being baptized, God’s voice thundered from heaven, “this is my Son whom I love, with Him I am well pleased.” Again, that was before Christ had done anything that might earn Him favor with God.  The Father loved the Son dearly; just like my own Dad, the Heavenly Father was proud of His boy.  It’s obvious, God’s love is based upon who He is and has little (or nothing) to do with who I am – at least, its certainly not something I earn by proving myself useful to Him.

So why does returning from vacation make me so emotional I could cry?  Because I’ve had the week off to breathe, to be, to waste time, to live without my Google Calendar or deadlines.  I cry because I’ve come home to reality, with stress and perfectionism once more knocking on my door.  I cry because this is not the way we were designed to live. 

God created man and put him in the garden, where he was able to enjoy a face-to-face relationship with his Creator.  Of course, man was given work to do, but this work wasn’t the whole of his existence.  Man was ultimately created for one purpose:  to live in the presence of the God of the universe.  “Abide in me,” Christ would teach later, “and you will bear much fruit.”  Did you catch that?  Christ calls His followers first to “abide,” and only then will they be able to do anything of significance for the Kingdom.  For so much of my life, I’ve gotten it backwards, trying to “earn” the presence of God through willing myself to bear fruit for Him – all the while He’s been patiently waiting for me to abide and then follow Him into obedience. 

For a time, I didn’t believe Christ’s words that His yoke was easy and His burden light – it just didn’t feel that way to me.  I see now that it wasn’t His yoke that weighed me down – it was His crown that I was trying to wear.  I thought I had to save my entire fourth-grade class, or that the health and wellbeing of my grandparents rested fully upon what I could do – but notice the common denominator in all that:  “I.”  After twenty-seven years on this earth, I can definitively say a few things, but above them all is this:  the world needs only one Messiah – and its not me.  

The most difficult part of this month’s challenge hasn’t been the thirty-minutes of silence each morning, learning to say “no” to extra activities, or even leaving work on time – it’s been going to bed.  For someone that so often complains about being tired, I fight sleep with the ferocity of a toddler.   

Nearly a month ago, as I was planning June’s “Summer in Mayberry” challenge, one of the first guidelines I settled on was a self-imposed bedtime – it being obvious that the amount of sleep I get each night directly effects my ability to rest, relax, and experience God.  I settled on 11:00PM for weeknights, 12:30AM on weekends.    I managed to keep my bedtime for a grand total of maybe week – no more than that.  While I’ve followed the other guidelines of the challenge fairly well, I’ve failed at keeping my bedtime more often than I’ve succeeded.

Two things about me have made keeping a bedtime difficult.  First, I tend to be a night owl, relishing the peace and quiet afforded me with the rest of the world in bed.  Under the watchful eyes of the stars and moon, I tend to think clearer and write better.  At the same time, I hate to leave projects or work half-finished – the majority of the bedtimes I missed this month were due to my writing, staring a blog and being unable to finish it by 11:00PM.  Although I’ve routinely gone to bed late, I’ve still managed to log more hours of sleep in the past twenty-four days than I have in entire months.  And while I’m still not reaching the recommended eight hours a night, I beginning to see more clearly just how important it is for us not only to experience spiritual rest, but physical as well. 

All rambling about sleep leads us to June’s final installment of TV Show Sunday.  Tonight’s episode of The Andy Griffith Show, from season four, is entitled Gomer the Houseguest.  After being fired from his job at Wally’s Service Station, the-incredibly-nice-but-completely-inept Gomer comes to stay with the Taylor family for a few days.  Unbeknownst to Andy, his new houseguest is a night owl who tries to “earn his keep” by performing chores (sawing firewood and fixing the switch on the vacuum) while the rest of the family tries to sleep.  After back-to-back sleepless nights, Andy, Aunt Bee, and Opie begin to realize just how important a little shut-eye can be.  And as it just so happens, I find myself learning that same lesson too.

So, without further ado (and because I’m past my bedtime yet again), here’s Gomer the Houseguest.  Enjoy! 
  

There’s no other rest quite like the kind you get laying in a hammock, the stars beginning to poke their heads out of a fading blue sky, the intertwining songs of a dying fire and a chorus of crickets singing you to sleep.  At least for me, there may be no place on this earth more peaceful than the middle of the forest.

My buddy Tim and I camped in the Red River Gorge last night, bunkering down at a nice site near Auxier Ridge.  We made camp about 6:30PM, leaving plenty of time for supper and great conversation around the campfire before sunset.  As the world got dark, we both decided to turn in for the night – I was in my hammock by 10:00PM (easily setting the record for my earliest bed time this month).  We awoke with the sun sitting low in the sky, using this morning’s cool hours to hike to the top of Auxier Ridge; there we were greeted with a spectacular panoramic view of the Gorge.  Taken in by such natural beauty, we had two distinct reactions:  I snapped pictures; Tim peed over the ridge top, down into the forest below.

Every part of our life suffers when we refuse to slow down and rest.  We have only so much time on this earth, so when work takes more than its fair share, we’re forced to pay off that debt by taking time away from other important (but less urgent) activities.  In my own life, I’ve found that I almost always steal that time from my friendships.  So while I enjoyed the silence and beauty of the forest, the best part about making time for this trip was being able to reconnect with an old friend, discussing our lives over the campfire, and searching for the will of God together.  Busyness creates tunnel vision, a depth of focus that doesn’t reach far beyond our own wants and desires.  But as I learn to create space in my life, to slow down and listen for the voice of God, I find Him nudging me to look beyond myself, to bless others with my most precious resource – my time. 

When I finally got home this morning, a little after 11:00AM, I made a beeline for the couch.  I hadn’t planned on sleeping half the day away, but that’s precisely what happened.  To quote the local vernacular, you could say I was “dog tired.”  

Over the course of the last three days, I’ve soundly broken every rule I’d set up for June’s “Summer in Mayberry” challenge.  I was up into the wee hours of the night, once till nearly 2:30AM, well beyond my self-imposed eleven o’clock curfew.  Instead of waking up slowly, enjoying quiet time and silence alone with God, I was roused by the stampede of nearly sixty pairs of feet heading toward breakfast.  And forget not working overtime – I’ve put in 48 hours this week and its only Wednesday.  On paper, this altogether looks like a recipe for exhaustion.  In actuality, however, it’s been quite the opposite.

This week was Summer Blast, our youth ministry’s three-day camp for middle school students.  The name is fitting – somehow, we manage to pack in a week’s worth of activities in only half that time.  Worship services and teaching form the backbone of the experience, but we also take time to play (on inflatables, on the Wii, and outside with a variety of water games, including the now infamous kiddie-pool kickball), to serve (weeding a community garden, picking up recycling, and organizing storage space at the church, just to name a few) and to squeeze in a few trips (down the road to a local family’s pool and to the movies to see Madagascar 3 in 3D).  From breakfast at 9:00AM until lights-out after midnight, we don’t slow down. 

The madness came to an end this morning, the students all picked up by their parents around 8:00AM.  After an hour or so of clean up, a few friends and I made our way to Bob Evans for breakfast.  It wasn’t until we were waiting for our orders that I realized just how tired I was.  Sleeping in public places being generally frowned upon, I fought to keep my eyes open.  It was not a victory easily gained. 

The food finally arrived, and with it, a much-needed boost.  Over eggs, biscuits and gravy, and pancakes, we excitedly discussed the experience – the life change we’d seen in the kids; their smiling faces and authentic worship; the way many of them are taking ownership of their own faith; the sacrifices our volunteers willingly make to support this event.  At that moment, it became clear – there are two types of rest.  Physically, the last three days have worn me down to the bone.  Spiritually, however, Summer Blast has left me filled, a cup overflowing with gratitude, worship, and awe for the ways I’ve witnessed God working all around me. 

I’m might be dragging now, but there’s no other way I’d have wanted to spend the last three days.  I’ll choose physically tired but spiritually energized any day of the week.    

Halfway through June’s challenge, I’ve made an alarming discovery about myself:  I don’t know how to relax.  This month, I set out to intentionally practice the oft-ignored Christian discipline of rest.  Looking to put myself on the right track, I sat down on the last day of May and wrote out an extensive list of what I was going to do in order to achieve my goal.  I’m so engrained in my “get-it-done” lifestyle that the irony of that situation was lost on me until today – did you catch it?  In a month about relaxation and rest, the first thing I did was make a to-do list.  In trying to relax, I actually gave myself more to do! 

This Sunday’s classic episode of The Andy Griffith Show is a gem from season four, entitled The Sermon for Today.  It’s Sunday morning, and the whole gang’s in church:  Opie’s catching flies, Barney’s singing so off-key you could hear him on the sidewalk, and Gomer’s eyelids are getting heavier with each passing second.  A guest preacher, from New York City, takes the pulpit and delivers a diatribe against our hurried society.  “Everything is run, run, run,” he preaches, “we’ve forgotten the meaning of relaxation.”  He goes on to mourn the passing of simpler times, when life was slower, and communities gathered to listen to band concerts on the lawn of the courthouse.

After Sunday lunch, Aunt Bee chides Andy for wanting to “run” down to the drugstore to get some ice cream.  When Gomer stops by, mentioning that he’s “running” over to see his cousin Goober, the rest of the gang remind of the preacher’s words against rushing; he sits down on the porch to join them.  When someone mentions missing the citywide band concerts, the idea gets tossed around to resurrect it.  Caught up in the excitement, every chooses a job:  Andy’ll gather the players and their instruments for practice, Barney and Gomer’ll repair the bandstand, while Aunt Bee and Clara take to mending the band uniforms.  Before they even realize it, the whole town of Mayberry’s thrown into an uproar, furiously working.  And why?  So they can relax.    

It’s easy to laugh at how blind Andy, Barney and Aunt Bee are being – working so they can relax – but when I look at my own life, I find I’m sitting in that boat alongside them.  I’ve gotten myself so tangled up in knots that I have to make plans and to-do lists in order to rest.  For a follower of Christ, the Sabbath should never be about checking another thing off a list – instead, its about abiding, wasting time with God, sitting on the porch and watching it rain, reading a good book until you fall asleep, or sitting in a tree until your legs go numb.  I can’t tell you what rest looks like for you, what activities help to reinvigorate you and draw you into the embrace of the Creator, but I do know this:  when you find yourself hurrying in order to experience rest, as Deputy Fife would say, it’s time to “nip it!  Nip it in the bud!” 

So put that work down, send your worries packing, and come to church with Sheriff Taylor this evening.  You’ll laugh till you cry, and in the end, you just might learn something.    

The Bible’s chock full of wisdom about rest, creating space in your life, and slowing down to experience the presence of God.  When this challenge started fourteen days ago, it’d been my goal to post one of these scriptures each Wednesday for the duration of the month.  It’d planned to call it The Word on Wednesday (catchy, isn’t it?).  We have, however, already reached the second Thursday of June and I’ve yet to achieve that goal – but, as they say, better late than never.  And if you’re gonna start a new project, its best to start at the beginning – the very beginning, like the first two books of scripture.  There, God Himself initiates the first Sabbath, a day of rest, and commands His people to do likewise.  The entire nation of Israel follows suit, ceasing all work one day a week to make time for rest, relaxation, and worship. 

Observation of the Sabbath may have started strong, but in the thousands of years since its inception, Christianity’s learned to ignore it.  We’ll preach the other nine commandments till we’re blue in the face, even fighting to hang them in our courthouses, but surely God doesn’t really expect us to put everything aside one day a week.  Doesn’t He realize just how much we have to do?  How busy we are trying to saving His world? 

I was watching The Andy Griffith Show the other day during lunch, an episode in which the beloved mountain man Ernst T. Bass first appears.  Sheriff Andy and his deputy Barney had been called to settle a dispute between him and the Darling Family.  The only daughter of the Darlings, Charlene, had recently been married; Ernest T., however, didn’t take too kindly to her new husband.  Miffed that he didn’t get his chance to court her, Ernest T. takes to throwing bricks through the windows of the Darling home, demanding that he get his chance to woo Charlene.  Even with Andy and Barney on the scene, Ernest T. doesn’t stop his antics; after breaking yet another windowpane, he yells out his intent to marry Charlene.  Immediately after, one of the Darlings yells back, asking Ernest T what he wants.  Ernest T. refuses to repeat himself.  “I don’t chew my cabbage twice,” he responds, before running off into the night.    

When it comes to His commands, God, like Mr. Bass, doesn’t chew His cabbage twice.  If taking a Sabbath day of rest was important enough to make God’s top ten, it’s fair to say that when we choose to ignore it, we do so at our own peril – not that God will strike us down for it, but when we refuse to rest, we miss out, by some degree, on the abundant life that Christ came to bring us. 

Since I missed the first two Wednesdays of June, I’ll be serving a double helping of scripture today, each one from the Old Testament and part of God’s original Sabbath mandate.  Not that I fancy myself a theologian, but I’ll follow each passage with a little blurb or thought of my own.  If you really want some insight, though, feel free to skip that and head down to the next verse. 

Maybe by next week I’ll have my scheduled freed up enough to actually finish the Word on Wednesday blog on time.  But don’t hold your breath.

 
Genesis 2:1-3
“Thus the heavens and the earth were completed in all their vast array.  By the seventh day God had finished the work He had been doing; so on the seventh day He rested from all His work.  Then God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it He rested from all the work of creating that He had done.”

God is the first to set aside a weekly day of rest.  As His followers, we’re called to imitate that.  He sets the precedent and we follow –it’s really as simple as that.


Exodus 20:8-11
“Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy.  Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God. On it you shall not do any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your male or female servant, nor your animals, nor any foreigner residing in your towns.  For in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but He rested on the seventh day. Therefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy.”

These verses are taken straight from the Ten Commandments.  Most of those commands are exceedingly straightforward and succinct:  “do not murder,” “do not lie,” “do not commit adultery.”  Interestingly, the command to rest has the longest explanation of any of them.  God obviously knew this one would throw us for a loop.  Thousands of years later, it still does. 


Exodus 23:12
“Six days do your work, but on the seventh day do not work, so that your ox and your donkey may rest, and so that the slave born in your household and the foreigner living among you may be refreshed.”

Here, God expounds even further on the idea of Sabbath, explaining that its not just a time for us, but for all those living under our sphere of influence:  our animals, employees, guests, etc.  Just as God modeled rest for us on the seventh day of creation, we, as His followers, are responsible for modeling and encouraging it within others, especially those closest to us.


Exodus 31:13
“You must observe my Sabbaths. This will be a sign between me and you for the generations to come, so you may know that I am the Lord, who makes you holy.”

The Sabbath was more just a day to nap – it was designed as a sign, a weekly reminder for the ancient Israelites about who was really in control.  Perhaps more than anything, it was an act of faith.  They didn’t cultivate their fields, manage their herds, or do business on the Sabbath because they believed their God would provide for them.  Ultimately, Sabbath is about admitting, no matter how hard we work, that our lives are unquestionably dependent upon the goodness and grace of God. 


Exodus 31:15
“For six days work is to be done, but the seventh day is a day of Sabbath rest, holy to the Lord. Whoever does any work on the Sabbath day is to be put to death.”

I know what you’re thinking – sheesh, that’s a harsh punishment.  I thought the same thing.  But I wonder if this is God’s way of teaching His people that refusing to rest from work will lead to that same end, to death.  If you never rest, never carve out time in your life for Christ, then although you live, you will be dead – spiritually, emotionally, and to a degree, even physically.  The “worst” crimes of the Old Testament were punishable by death, things like murder, rape, adultery… and interestingly enough, working too much.   

Talk about the straw that finally broke the camel’s back – four weeks ago, as May was approaching its conclusion and I was busy contemplating what June’s challenge would be, my church started a teaching series entitled “White Space.”  The name comes from the world of publishing, referring to the margins around the page that are left unmarked.  Without white space, a page feels crowded and overwhelming; the same is true of our lives.  When we fill every waking moment, even with good things, then we’re living on the fast-track to stress, burnout and frustration.  Meaningful relationships don’t happen on accident – to truly know Christ and invest deeply into the lives of others, we must create space in our lives.  For months, God had been sending me messages about embracing a more balanced lifestyle, but when my pastor took the stage that Sunday and introduced the White Space series, I knew instantly what June’s challenge would have to be.  Ask Jonah, there’s no point in running away from where God’s sending you.

Yesterday morning, while at church, I learned a bit of Chinese – now there’s something you can’t say everyday.  As the pastor was wrapping up the White Space series, he displayed the Chinese character for “busy” – máng.  This character is comprised of two others.  On the far left is xīn, which means “heart.”  The character on the right, wáng, means “perish, flee, lose.”  Reading these Chinese characters literally, to be busy is to risk losing your heart or allowing it to perish.

Before I go any further, let me say plainly that I have absolutely no knowledge of Chinese, so there’s certainly a chance that I’m lost in translation here.  To a native speaker, the fact that “máng” is made up of the characters “heart” and “perish” may mean nothing – like the word “armchair,” which for me certainly does not conjure up the image of a seat made of appendages.  The risk of misinterpretation notwithstanding, there seems to be a lot of wisdom packed in that little Chinese symbol.   

All this reminds me of a story about two sisters.  One slaved away in the kitchen, stressed out and hoping to make a good impression while the other sat patiently at the foot of their visitor, hanging on his every word.  When the first sister complained, the Messiah spoke to her lovingly:  “Dear Martha, you’re fussing far too much and getting yourself worked up over nothing.  One thing only is essential, Mary has chosen it… and it won’t be taken from her” 
(The Message).  

As you go about this week, be brave enough to cut out the busy in order to make room for the essential – I’ll be right there with you, trying my hardest to do the same. 

God is unexpected, unpredictable – as the old saying goes, He works in mysterious ways.  Anything and everything can be an instrument for His will or a mouthpiece for His message.  Even just a cursory look through the Bible illustrates this point plainly, with God using everyone from prostitutes to kings and everything in-between (including lepers, scholars, slaves, and the elite-rich) to advance His plan for humanity.  And it doesn’t end with humans – the Creator has spoken through a burning bush, a whisper after a storm, and once, even through the mouth of a donkey.  When God is on the move, nothing will stop His message from being heard.

I’ve seen the same thing to be true in my own life.  I can always count on experiencing God when I study His word or spend time in prayer – it’s the other times, however, that really get my attention, the times when His message comes unexpectedly crashing into my everyday life.  I’ve heard the still, small voice of God through music, while spending time alone in nature, or while reading the words of a gifted writer.  And, as much as I like to chastise it, God’s even spoken to me through the TV.   

If you’ve been keeping up with the blog, then you know this month’s challenge – to practice the often-ignored Christian discipline of rest – has been inspired by my love for the Andy Griffith Show.  In Mayberry, life moves at a slower pace, and I believe that’s something God would have His followers practice.  At times, while watching episodes of this classic TV show, I’ve clearly felt the nudging of the Almighty towards a more balanced life.  So, for the remainder of the month, each Sunday evening I’ll be posting an episode that God’s used to teach me about the importance of creating more space in my life.  Perhaps through them, God will speak to you as well.

For those into reading the fine print, episodes of the Andy Griffith Show are in the public domain, meaning they can be posted without copyright infringement on websites such as Youtube.  So grab yourself a cold drink, get comfortable on the couch, and spend a little time in Mayberry.  I promise, you’ll be glad you did. 

Tonight’s episode, Man in a Hurry, explores the importance of slowing down.  Enjoy!  

A little over a week ago the calendar turned to June, bringing with it the most difficult challenge yet – a choice to intentionally let up on my hectic pace of life.  In order to experience rest, and a more intimate relationship with Christ, I implemented a number of drastic changes to my daily routine.  I set limits on how much time I could spend at the office (no more overtime), adopted an early bedtime (11:00PM on weeknights, 12:30AM on weekends), and carved out deliberate times of silence each morning.  In only eight days, I’ve experienced a month’s worth of both successes and failures. 

Bedtime is steadily approaching, but before it stops me, here are a few thoughts from my first week.

1) No Overtime
In my first blog this month, I noted my propensity to spend too much time on the job – although I’m only part-time, I oftentimes keep hours like a full-time staff member.  Don’t hear me wrong, work ethic isn’t a bad thing, but without regular time away, one’s work can begin to define them, to give their life meaning and purpose.  As a Christian, I must recognize that God’s love for me isn’t dependent, in any way, on how much of my to-do list gets checked off.  And so, each day this month, I’m choosing to leave the office at 2:00PM. 

So far, I’ve found that having a clearly defined “quitting time” has resulted in better and more focused work during my office hours.  Because I know exactly when a break is coming, I’ve been able, for the most part, to control the normal office distractions that so often rob me of my productivity – things like Facebook, Twitter, and bugging Kerry at the front desk.  But just because I’m more focused, unfortunately, doesn’t mean that all my work is getting finished.  (Friday’s been designated as my official catch-up day – although its not ideal, it does still allow a full day without any work on Saturday.)

Yesterday, I returned to church around 2:30PM to run some keys back to a coworker.  As I entered the door, my buddy Anthony yelled at me from across the lobby.  “What are you doing here?” he asked.  For a split second, I was genuinely confused.  My first thought was something along the lines of “ummm, I work here.”  He continued, “its past your work hours, you’re supposed to be at home.”  A smile spread across my face as I explained the situation.  “Just keeping you accountable,” he answered.  I loved it – with people keeping tabs on me like that, I just might make it through this month.


2) Unrhythmic   
On the night of June 1st, after returning home from my trip to Mount Airy, North Carolina, I sat down on a swing in my church’s prayer garden with the intent to spend the next thirty minutes alone.  Out of that silence, as the setting sun painted the sky with purples and reds, God began to speak.  What He did within my soul that night was life altering, and will be the subject of a future blog (as soon as I’ve had enough time to fully decompress from it).  That night was one of the most peaceful I’ve experienced in a long while – little did I know that the next morning, my life would go haywire.  Over the last few months, I’ve been able to develop a pattern to my life, a rhythm.  This week took the rhythm and threw it out the window – its been busy, unpredictable and, at times, downright strange. 

In the past five days, I’ve helped throw an anniversary party for my parents, been rear-ended, housesat and taken care of two animals, celebrated my grandmother’s 85th birthday, and taken my grandparents to dinner for their wedding anniversary – all on top of my normal workload at church.  This week has, by no means, made finding rest easy.  If the right decision is also the most difficult, then I can assume only one thing after this week:  I’m on the right track.


3) Bedtime
Easily, my biggest failure this week has been in keeping my bedtime – in the past eight days, I’ve met my goal only three times.  Which reminds me, I’m nearly an hour past due.  Crap.  Goodnight.