“The promise of ‘arrival’ and ‘rest’ is still there for God’s people. God himself is at rest…So let’s keep at it and eventually arrive at the place of rest…” –Hebrews 4:9b-11a (The Message)

Last week, I caught the cold and cough that seems to be going around. I know my body gets compromised when I don’t get enough sleep, and the weekend before had been a fun-filled, snowboarding trip to Jackson Hole involving early mornings and full, active days. Throw in one night of insomnia and one last night of restless sleep before having to catch a first flight out, and my body clearly told me what it thought of my go-go-go schedule: it was not amused.

Though I got plenty of rest after coming home, the damage was done, and I spent this past weekend rotating between my bed and couch in an achy pile of sneezes and coughs. I ended up missing out on several events and once a year occasions – my friend’s birthday party, lunch with friends I hadn’t seen in months, and a friend’s annual Super Bowl nonprofit fundraiser.

The extrovert in me died a slow death of FOMO (fear of missing out) and missed opportunities to support good friends. The growing ambivert side of me was a little relieved that I didn’t have to make small talk with acquaintances. And the material, physical side of me was glad I listened to it and just stayed put.

In my own self-motivated cycle of go, do, see, meet, and connect, I sometimes have to be forced to stay, be, relax, and be silent. To sit in solitude when the world at large seems to be having a party – together no less in the case of the Super Bowl – is crazy hard but sometimes entirely necessary. It’s even a command. Whether you believe in a literal seven days of the earth being created or not, the meta narrative of God working and resting exists. Our bodies are not bionic. We are flesh and bones and spirit and mind, and all need rejuvenation to perform optimally. All require stillness, at least once in a while.

And it can’t just come in fits and starts. Rest can’t just be a forced byproduct of my body’s rebellion against an overactive life. In the middle of my day, I have to pause and walk away from my desk every now and then. In the middle of my week, it’s good to intentionally spend a night alone reading and writing. In the middle of an epic day on the mountain, it’s good to stop, give my knee a breather, and calm my mind.

If I really mean to embrace SHALOM this year, then well-being starts with clarity about my priorities. It involves grace for having to learn the lesson to rest over and over again. And it’s a reminder that all the parts of me are interwoven and affect each other. Because truly, the last thing I want to have FOMO about is my own whole heartedness.

[Photo: Jackson Hole Resort is known for it’s long, steep runs – near the end of the day, our crew decided to take a well-deserved break about half way down this run.]