I’ve learned a lot about rest over this past year.

Sometimes it’s a nap. I remember being a little kid and crying for no reason at all. When you’re a kid you cannot always tell if you are hungry, flat out grumpy, sleepy, or mad. Once when my mom and I had a stubborn standoff about me taking all the bread out of the sack, my mom smartly sent me to a nap. The bread was waiting for me when I woke up.

I don’t remember if I was a little happier about righting my wrong or not, but the nap definitely helped.

I’ve learned that sometimes a rest is a hike up Seven Falls or around the neighborhood. A bit of fresh air is always refreshing and stimulates a different mind set.

I’ve learned that rest can be active, like creating something or baking something or doing anything that’s different from your day-to-day.

I’ve learned that rest can be a vacation on a ship with miles of ocean separating you from land and technology. Especially the technology.

Mostly, I’ve learned that the ancient Jews knew something we don’t — a week without rest is deadly. To work on Sabbath was a sin punishable by death. At first I thought it extreme. But then I remembered that sometimes death is by slow, excruciating degrees. It’s like The Machine in the Princess Bride that sucked away years of life from Westley. (In case you’ve forgotten, here’s a clip.)

As I come to the last post of my #365Agains with #TheAgainInRest number 52, I hope you’ve gotten as much out of a good Sunday rest as I have. ❤