What if the Key to Rest is Ordinary, Down-to-Earth Faith?

At 7, my oldest grandson was already a contemplative, a fellow who still asks a lot of questions and registers an opinion on just about everything. Maybe that’s a family trait (for better or for worse), but a recent reading of Psalm 131 has given me good reason to rethink the merits of over-thinking and the meaning of soul rest:

"O Lord, my heart is not lifted up;
my eyes are not raised too high;
I do not occupy myself with things
too great and too marvelous for me.” (Psalm 131:1 ESV)

Things too Marvelous to Overthink

In my journal, I challenged myself to come up with a list of those things “too great and too marvelous for me.” It took shape quickly with entries like…
*the passing of time,
*God’s purpose in suffering,
*the internet.

Within minutes, it was clear that there are far too many things “too great and too marvelous” for me to list. And there are very few that I could honestly place on a list titled “Things I Understand.”

Ironically, this does NOT conflict with my commitment to a sturdy theology based on God’s self-revelation in Scripture. I’m taking my cues from trailblazers like Elisabeth Elliot, who said, “Faith has to be exercised in the midst of ordinary, down-to-earth living.” Eugene Peterson described this mindset in his rendering of Romans 12:2 as a faith-practice deeply rooted in our “sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life.”

Rest in the Present

There’s nothing quite like the diagnosis of a chronic illness to jar a person into doing business with “ordinary, down-to-earth living.” It was called “the palsy” in my rural Maine childhood, but has since been labeled by the medical community as Parkinson’s Disease.

My orientation to time is always toward the future, so it’s been a challenge to resist Googling the dickens out of this diagnosis and projecting into what’s ahead. However, God’s curriculum seems to require that I rest in the present, paying attention to this moment on the clock, this day on the calendar. I am learning to give thanks for strength and motivation to do today’s exercises–the only thing medically proven to slow the advance of the disease.

I don’t pretend to know the reason behind this curve in the road, but I am beginning to see that my message here and in my teaching and writing everywhere—that women can become confident Christ-followers and students of God’s Word–has been building a foundation. I’m learning along with my readers that confident faith happens through the formation of habits of holiness. Our minds need a place to go when anxiety threatens or hope seems like a remote possibility.

Rest as an Alternative to Anxiety

When I am tempted to project into a future of limitations, of not being able to DO-DO-DO, the expulsive power of faith over fear provides an alternative to panic. And so I sense that God is, at some point in the future, going to require that I become intentional about sharing my message of hope with others who have been diagnosed with chronic diseases, people who are living their way forward into unknown territory.

The diagnosis I received has had a clarifying effect. I’m working hard on the discipline of rest as an alternative to anxiety. I’m paying attention to my family, the eighteen people of my inner circle, because I want to love and serve them well. I’ll continue to teach and lead at the church I call home.

The difference is that now I know with a little more certainty that there are things “too great and too marvelous for me” to comprehend, and those are God’s business. In the meantime, my business is to lean into this new curriculum called Parkinson’s Disease.