15. A Gospel of Rest

The one where Mom gets the flu

I know many of you have probably been staring at your email for the past two weeks, wondering where in the world your weekly Substack is from Casey. I apologize for any deep distress I caused. I promise, it was not premeditated. But let me explain.

Two weeks ago, not even twelve hours after returning home from my annual girls’ trip, I crawled into bed with a fever. It took me another 48 hours to figure out I didn’t have your garden-variety virus. I had the flu. First of all, who gets the flu in April? Second, I feel the need to apologize to anyone who has had the flu, and I did not immediately bring you a home-cooked meal and offer to watch your children. I do not remember the last time I felt that sick—a three-day fever, intense fatigue, headache, sore throat, cough, congestion.

When you’re a parent, there’s usually no option but to power through when you get sick. That was not an option this time. It was terrible. My poor husband, who had just been solo parenting through the weekend for my trip, once again had to take on most of the household and parenting duties while also trying to work. I was a useless lump on the sofa. Then, five days later, guess what? Our baby woke up with a fever. Insert instant mom guilt. I gave my baby the flu! Thankfully, he ended up with a much milder version. Mom, on the other hand, ended up with a sinus infection.

The other fun part of this equation was that my parents, sister, and 3-month-old nephew were set to come into town the next week to celebrate our baby’s first birthday and Easter together. So, most nights when I couldn’t sleep from lack of air flow through my nose or the sensation of someone pounding my head with a hammer, I would lie in bed calculating the probability that everyone would be well by the time this was all supposed to take place. And then, I would pray for a miracle.

One of the most frustrating aspects of being sick for someone like me is the inability to be productive. I actually tried to write the week I had the flu to keep my streak going. And well, we all know how that turned out. I also tried to take care of our baby. And we also know how that turned out. Apparently, I am not good at resting. And when I say rest, I’m not talking about lounging on the sofa on a Saturday afternoon while simultaneously ordering groceries and meal planning for the week. (Ok, that’s also a joke because I haven’t meal-planned since February.)

What I mean by rest is letting go, being in full dependence on another, giving up my addiction to performance, sitting in peaceful security.

I recently listened to a podcast from Raising Boys and Girls (one of my favorites) where they interviewed Cameron Cole, the founding chairman of Rooted Ministry. As he shared his testimony, I sensed him articulating my own story as well. With a tendency toward performance Christianity, he believed that the Gospel meant you become a Christian, and then what God wants from you is max effort. Emily P. Freeman writes about this in her book, Grace for the Good Girl:

“When we believe that God expects us to try hard to become who Jesus wants us to be, we will live in that blurry, frustrating land of Should Be rather than trust in The One Who Is. We will do whatever we believe it takes to please God rather than receive the acceptance that has already been given. We will perform to live up to what we believe his expectation is of us rather than expectantly wait on him.”

I think I have about 147 highlights from that book because, if I possessed the eloquence that Emily does, I could have also written about the struggle of “letting go of the try-hard life.” I know I’m not alone in this because I just finished studying Daniel, and the Jewish people ended up in exile precisely because they refused to rest. Instead of following God’s command to give their land rest every seven years, they just kept right on working it. So God said, “Ok, well, I love you too much to let you continue this failure to rest, so I’m going to have to intervene.” And He did. And He does. Because He loves us too much to not intervene.

Whenever I have to dole out discipline (what we call a “consequence” in our house), I try to explain to my six-year-old that our rules are not there to ruin her fun; they’re put in place to protect her and guide her toward the best possible outcome for her life. Because truthfully, the root of the problem is not perfectionism or performance addiction; it’s a lack of trust. Just like my daughter sometimes fails to trust that we have her best in mind when we say no to eating a fourteenth piece of candy from her Easter basket, I also fail to trust (and rest) in the fact that God has it all covered.

In the above mentioned podcast, Cameron Cole shared these words from his pastor, and I can’t stop thinking about them:

“The Gospel is rest. The Gospel means Jesus carries the burden of your life, and you’ll never have to prove yourself again. You are loved apart from your performance.”

Or in Jesus’ words:

“Come to me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.” - Matthew 11:28

This is a Gospel that is restful and also transformative. In other words, the rest the Gospel brings as we trust Him does not lead to a passive, lazy life. Instead, it only increases our desire to love and serve God and others. As a good friend of mine shared in our sorority Bible study many years ago, God’s love is like a constant flow into our cup. And as he fills our cup, it can’t help but spill out onto those around us. I have tried filling my own cup. And let me save you the agony…it doesn’t work. It only leads to pride, burnout, and bitterness. I love the way Emily Freeman put it here:

“If I’m trying to please God, it is difficult to trust God. But when I trust God, pleasing him is automatic.”

This is only something that would make sense in God’s upside-down kingdom.

There are probably thousands of articles and books you can read about biblical rest, so this is not even scratching the surface. But sometimes, I just need someone to remind me to stop and rest in God’s grace. Maybe you need that reminder—and comfort—today as well.

In the end, God was gracious to answer my prayer. We celebrated our (almost) one-year-old surrounded by family and friends who had spent years praying for this baby (which I talk more about here). And then, we celebrated Easter, which is the whole reason I can even write about something like resting in God’s grace.

Until next week (hopefully!).

Your friend,

Casey