Ahhhh.
I lean back as I sink into in my comfortable chair, coffee cup in hand. The music that gently floats in the air quiets and pacifies the very soul.
Outside, it is raining, the drops gently drumming down onto the metal roof above me.
This is the life!
Only moments ago, I untied my shoes and kicked them under the desk, wiggling my toes in joy at being free of the constraints. I don’t know of many moments that feel better than that instant in which the shoes are kicked off.
I sit and soak in the mellowness. Here, I could stay forever.
But, something nags at the edges of my mood. Almost, I hear a voice calling me.
C’mon! There’s no time to waste! There are things to do. We have people to see. C’mon!
I shrug my shoulders, in a vain effort to quiet the badgering call. What is that emotion I’m starting to feel? It’s ruining the ambiance in the room.
I know what it is.
Guilt.
I am a believer in being up and about—in taking action. I am an advocate for achievement. A life spent in dissipation and indolence is a life wasted.
Perhaps, I should tackle the jobs I see waiting for me. I really should get busy, shouldn’t I?
And just like that, without even the benefit of an apology for offending my mellow frame of mind, I am instantaneously on edge.
Ready for action.
Like a bull in the rodeo pen right before the cowboy alights on his back, I mentally paw the dirt, achieving nothing, but giving the appearance of readiness.
Let me out of here!
I reach for my shoes.
But then, I remember. I worked today. I worked!
Customer after customer, problem after problem–all dealt with, and all served. Lunch was in stages, a bite here and another bite ten minutes after. People come first. I can always eat later. I can always relax later.
This is later.
The Teacher looked at His close friends. They were exhausted. He looked beyond them to the crowds which were following—always there, always needing something.
He said two words that echo down through the centuries since. The words yet speak to us in our busy-ness here and now.
Two words.
Come away.
Into our frantic lives He speaks peace. Come away. Share on X
Ah, I like that Voice better than the one in my head.
I believe I’ll leave the shoes on the floor. But, I may need to get another cup of coffee soon.
When I decide to get up from here. Or if.
Listen to the rain falling on the roof.
Come away.
Work is not always required. There is such a thing as sacred idleness.
(George MacDonald ~ Scottish author/minister ~ 1824-1905)
Then, because so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat, He said to them, “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.”
(Mark 6:31 ~ NIV)
© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2016. All Rights Reserved.
We all need that quiet, still time to be with the Lord, to come away with Him. Difficult for those with a doer mentality, but so necessary.
Blessings, Paul!
Martha is right–so difficult for the “doers,” but your words come at just the right time, when God has already been leading me in the same direction…to rest in relationship with Him and my family. (Even if it means less writing. Gasp!) I’m trying to learn how to enjoy the sound of the rain and relish that free-toed moment.
It’s a lesson I have to learn, again and again, Carole. Thanks for your note. I’m having to think about the less writing thing. But, I have a sneaking suspicion you’re correct about that, too. Blessings, my friend!