Am I Relaxed?

 

Am I relaxed?

I found myself asking this question a lot this last week. The tension in my shoulders, clenched jaw, rushing to get out of the door on time, consistently trying to pick up after my toddler, and dreading the amount of things I have said “yes” to are pretty clear indicators that I am, in fact, not relaxed.

Do I love life?

On the phone with my sister today she mentioned that her boss asked her this question.

(shakes tension out of legs and shoulders…)

This question, combined with the first, has convicted me in deep ways. I love the life I have been given: my husband, children, extended family, community, job, etc. But I struggle to enjoy life: to truly release, let go, and laugh. There is an endless list of “to do”s, “should”s, and “oh crap”s running through my head:

I replay the past: conversations, actions, motives. 

I plan for the future: how to parent my kids, how to pursue holiness, how to do this or that thing better, how to be become more acceptable. 

I fight to be present: to choose contentment with where and the way things are and without becoming complacent. 

Oh…and hello perfectionism. It invites itself to walk with me. I don’t want it to follow me, but its company has become so normal that I forget its there: telling me where to step, how to breathe (or how to hold my breath), correcting me, berating me. 

(relaxes legs…again)

What am I hurried for? 

What am I trying to accomplish? 

Where do I think I am going? 

Why do I think I have to get there. right. now?

If I step back and look at Jesus…He isn’t hurried. He isn’t hustling. He isn’t uptight, irritated, or berating. His breath is intentional and slow. His eyes are locked in, ready for the moment, not pressured by the constraints of time. 

And He invites me near. 

Jesus has always been present. He has always been relaxed next to me. Even in all the hurriedness and ways I try to control, He remains steadfast, unmoved in His state of consistency. He reclines at a table offering me the feast of Himself: to spend time in His presence, to partake in Him.

Instead, however, I have often feasted on the hurriedness of more, better, different, faster. I have stuffed myself with opinions, roles, accomplishments, expectations, and perfectionism that have made me sick…made me tense…made me tired. 

The header of my blog is an abstract piece of art my 2 year old, Athaleyah, created. Her purity, spontaneity, passion, and exuberance for life bring me so much joy (and conviction). While creating this work of art, Athaleyah told me which colors she wanted and where I was to squirt them on the canvas.  She had no agenda, no expectation of what this piece of art would become. She wasn’t rushed or uptight. She didn’t care where the paint splattered, how the colors mixed together, or if anyone would like what she made. She just did it. She was relaxed and free.

I used this painting as a header to remind me to relax, to be free. I want to choose to let things go, trusting that Jesus will tell me what to do, where to be, and what to say. The “catch” is: I have to choose to obey.

I have to choose to say “no” when He tells me to say “no”: though I may miss out on something I want to be a part of.   

 

I have to choose to say “yes” even when beginning a new habit is difficult and uncomfortable. 

 

I have to choose to let things go even though a deeply engrained belief system tells me my house has to be clean in order for me to be a good momma and wife. 

I have to choose to be in Jesus’ presence: to read His Word, to listen to His voice, and to meditate and journal, even when I am tired and would rather zone out to a show.

Honestly, I am not exactly sure how to fully embrace this life of relaxing and feasting with Jesus (as I release more tension from my legs and jaw) but I am confident that it will bring me into the Fullness of Life I was created for. 

(breathes deeply and exhales)

So today, I can start with choosing to obey His voice, even (and especially) in the small things: like letting toys lay around, leaving laundry undone, and sitting down to play with my babies without an agenda. 

….yeah…that’ll be great. I’m ready.