forced rest

My next post was supposed to be a part two on my movie weekend (last weekend.)

Ooops.

Anyways, I have been wrestling (mentally) with the concept of what "rest" looks like in my life-- or rather, how "rest" should look in my life. I assume that "resting" = watching Friends reruns or writing on here or talking to a friend on the phone. I think I assume wrong... not that those aren't enjoyable.. but true rest... true getting away and being alone with God or seeking beauty in nature or listening to lovely music while feeling the sun warm on your face (and it being okay because you remembered sunblock.)

I remember when I was in Nicaragua... I truly felt rested. We worked hard in the mornings, worshipped with churches in the evenings... but during the late afternoon... it was free time... and time for us to visit with each other or take a nap or read our Bibles or whatever. I remember my favorite moments were sitting on a swinging chair, listening to my mp3 player, which had a playlist of all my fav worship and other songs, and writing random thoughts in my journal or just sitting and listening and watching life around me.

I loved, loved that time.

This summer has been interesting. I spent a huge chunk of it house-sitting and pet-sitting. Then mid-August hit and work got super busy (it still is). I am working out my "finish OSU or bust" plans, and making big decisions on my ministry involvement. Its been busy. Not bad, not terrible, and not busy in a bad way... just busy.

I thought that maybe since I let go of some of the things that has kept me the busy-est, that meant I was resting.

I was wrong.

My friend Joy, who is amazing!!, told me very clearly and with some bluntness, that I have yet to truly rest. Regardless of what I tell myself: I am not resting.

So, God-- who has impeccable timing and can be very ironic-- decided, hey, let's have Cori get sick so she has to rest.

Forced rest.

So, I made the dreaded call to my boss telling her I wouldn't be coming in. (I always feel terrible calling in sick. I think its easier working sick.) Then, with full expectation of getting work done at home.. I spent the morning half asleep on the couch watching Soapnet and wishing I didn't feel so icky.

Then, I got up, and again, thought I would do work but instead took a hot shower, then laid in bed and wished I felt better.

All day went like this... minus a couple of hours of energy when I talked to the OSU advisor and got things lined up to register for classes.

So, now, its nearly midnight. I am exhausted. I need sleep. And I lay in bed, thinking, wondering... how do I get back to that place that I was at when I was in Nicaragua. How do I find it here? And why does it take a sick day for me to realize rest-- real, true rest is so important!?