#2,577 Rest.

Since Christmas, life has come to a screeching halt in the very best kind of way. Incidentally, because of that I’ve had a chance to read more books like the one in yesterday’s post that’s all about how I struggle with giving myself rest. Busyness is my drug. But for a couple weeks now, the store traffic has slowed, the show wrapped in November, now we’re in a holding pattern with so much excitement and hustle ahead of us. I would by lying if I said it didn’t make me antsy, having little to do, but I would also be lying if I said we weren’t trying our best to savor every one of these quiet, free nights spent at home doing nothing. Folding laundry. Cooking. Washing the dishes. Eating dinner at our own dinner table. Taking care of little things around the house that we’ve neglected for so many months. Watching a TV show at bedtime. Reading until we fall asleep.

God must have a real doozy coming up for us, because this is the most extravagant rest I’ve had in so very long.