I thought I was trying to start a healthy habit, but it turns out I am really struggling to grow more faith.
After struggling for months of being sick and worn down, I decided I should really get serious about getting at least 8 hours of sleep every night. I didn’t really think through where the hardest part of this plan would be. If I had pick one word to describe it, I think I would have to use the word, “enough.” Not “enough sleep,” because despite being able to suddenly cut my caffeine consumption by 2/3s, I still feel tired. No. Admitting there had been enough in the day. Admitting I was done. Admitting what God had done was enough, and I could rest.
What was supposed to be an exercise in rest and restoration turned instead into an ugly power play. I wasn’t done yet. My things were important. I don’t want my life to just be work and sleep. This is not enough.
It made me stop and think about resting as an act of worship. First there is aspect in which we are to stop and look at what God has done. I think that’s how the original 7th day of rest came around – not that God was wearied, but as a observation of all that He has accomplished. But that’s not enough, either.
It’s also a sacrifice, in more than one sense of the word. In one sense, we have to give up the things that we want to do in order to do the rest God calls for. We want to think that we have to do things, or that OUR things are important, but what we’re called to do is agree with God that He is right: He provides all things, and this world is ultimately very insignificant. It’s humbling. Surely the bare necessities of food and clothing demand our attention. Surely Martha is right. But didn’t He say something about finding His sustenance in the work of God? About manna being provided double-fold the day before the rest, so you’ll still have food even when you don’t work? About clothes not wearing out for 40 years, because He said so?
It is very humbling. Because the other sense in which it is a sacrifice is in recognizing that our own striving, our own attempts at righteousness is not enough, nor even desirable by God. We have to be covered by something else – to rest and be covered in His provision. What we do is simply not good enough.
I resent it. I resent my human limitations; I want to be a god. I don’t want to have to rest. I resent that the world doesn’t actually fall apart when I rest; striving is so hard, it seems like all sorts of things should fall apart when I stop striving and rest. But they don’t. Because it isn’t really about us at all. My human nature is that I don’t want to agree with God. But isn’t that what worship is? Agreeing with God. Agreeing with what He says about Himself, about us, about this age, about what matters. The humility of bending the knee and admitting He has the final say in anything, that He is the arbitrator, that what He declares is true.
Who gets to decide what is enough? I find myself muttering to myself, “this isn’t enough.” Who decides? I have so much more than so many. So much less than so many. Who draws the line and says, this is enough? In truth, God. In truth, going to bed at the end of the day and saying, “it is enough,” is not a declaration that we are enough–we’re not. We never will be. It is agreeing with God that what He gives is enough. It is not fighting with God to be more powerful than we are, and agreeing with Him that the nature He gave us is one that needs to rest — and only can rest, if we truly believe God will provide whatever is truly needed. That it’s enough to rest in Him and the things He does, and to not do things myself. That it’s enough, what my lot in life is right now.
It’s hard to make ourselves small. It’s painful to make ourselves small, or rather, to recognize the truth of our smallness. But it’s also the only way we see the greatness of God. We so easily lose sight of what “holiness” means, or “authority” means. We’re far too inclined to put ourselves on level with God, and in doing so, rather than make ourselves large, we make God small.
The feeling that things are never enough is part of how God made us. . .He has placed eternity in the hearts of men. We subvert that to say, this day was not enough, so I’m going to stay up later, try to squeeze more in. What it should really drive us to do is to recognize the smallness of our to-do lists in view of eternity. It really doesn’t matter, it really isn’t important, because it really won’t last. Only the things that God is doing will last.
I am still incredibly frustrated by how little time I have. Week two of “getting sleep” is not shaping up to be any easier. The only thing I have now is the recognition that this is actually a spiritual battle. That the resentment I feel at having to rest needs to be turned into the humble acceptance — and gratitude — that it is enough. Because God said so, and He is fearful and wonderful, and I recognize my place beneath Him. He is enough.