From the moment I open my eyes in the morning until I close them at night, my brain is busy. I used to think this was a virtue. I've measured a days success by how early I got up and how much I got done. A ruler of my worth. Exhausting. On the "unsuccessful" days I went to bed feeling worthless. Like a failure.
Often when I wander into the living room in the morning, Scotty will be sitting on the couch sipping a cup of coffee. Doing nothing. Thinking nothing. Like really. Nothing. When we were first married I would plop down next to him and ask, "whatcha thinkin' about?". "Ain't nothing going on up here", he would say. It baffled me. I don't know what that is like. How can you not be thinking anything?
Nowadays I am longing to learn to do nothing and be okay with it.
Just sitting with someone, saying nothing. In contentment. In grief.
Giving my brain a rest from all the things.
What if I gave all my moments to God?
Not having to fix everything. Not having to be in control.
Not having to prove my worth by what I've done - isn't that the beauty of grace?
Rest. Quiet. Stillness. Silence.
Sometimes nothing is everything.
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