A Time to Heal

A few weeks ago, we ventured into the New Year eager to see what it would become. Some of us made resolutions. If we are like most of the world our resolutions will focus on some consistent themes such as improving our physical health, relationships, and finances. Lose a little weight. Save a little money. Meet a special some one new. Run faster. Start a new business. Get married. Find more time for family and friends. Though the goal may be personal transformation, we like the success gurus of the world know it can not happen if it is not measurable. Thus our focus tends to be on potential transforming activities.

As we begin our 2008 journey, let me provide another resolution for us. Maybe, the season is right to take time to heal? Maybe, something within us needs to be still?

Many of you know my habit of beginning my mornings with a run or bike ride in Kigali. At forty one it is not about speed or athletic prowess. Instead, my morning rituals are my coping mechanism for life’s pain and renewed discoveries of hope. In the midst of them occasionally I find a good friend with whom to share the journey. There have been a few times in my life when I’ve walked with a cane and I know my future is simply to return to a pile of dust. Thus it seems the joy of an early morning run is an inescapable hunger in my soul.

However, I also struggle with a boyish desire to achieve. Something in me ponders how long can I do this? Can I find a new challenge? Is there something more I have yet to discover? It may reflect in my desire to start a new church or school, make a new friend, or try one more physical challenge before life’s inevitable decline catches me. I imagine that a few of you share my struggles.

Maybe, even Kigali brings out this compulsive obsession to achieve? How many of us work days that start at 5:00 a.m. and don’t end until 11:00 p.m.? Do our phones ever stop ringing? Are our inboxes ever completely empty? Does our “to do” lists ever say “done”? Is there something about the opportunity before us that tells us that we must seize today as we have no guarantee what tomorrow’s crisis may be?

For me 2007 was a thrilling, but exhausting year. We began a new church in a fabulous facility. We also participated with others in the development of a new school in Kigali. Besides these activities my morning rituals brought me to a few new places. I ran a half marathon in Kigali in May. (I did the half because I was unwilling to commit a whole morning to a run when I needed to preach later in the day.) I swam 5 kilometers in Lake Kivu with a few friends in August. In September I rode my bike with a few others to Butare. However, by December my knees and ankles were sore and seemingly unable to heal. Also, I caught my yearly flew and for weeks could not stop coughing.

Thankfully, many years ago I organized the worst honeymoon in history, and as penance each December take Jana away for a few days on our anniversary. (If one of you ever responds in writing to something I write I promise to tell the story in Focus.) As we retreated for a celebration of 17 years together I broke my morning ritual. I slept in. I did not start the day with exercise. I kept it up for a couple days that we were away.

Then I returned home to the five kids, church, school, a ringing phone, full inbox, and more problems to solve than the day allowed. Somehow, I kept my anniversary habit and slept in a little more. I still reported to office work at about the same time, but skipped my daily runs and rides for a couple weeks. It was a strange paradox of life. I hungered for physical health, but craved quiet and rest.

In the process something out of the ordinary happened. My ankle quit swelling. My knees became pain free. My lungs cleared out and I started breathing again.

Last week, I rolled out of bed and ran again. It was nothing to brag about, but I felt joy in the run again.

I could not help, but ponder that my month of physical rest may have more to teach me than just how to restore my ankles, knees, and lungs. When God created us He defined our nature as being in His image. I’m resistant to definitions of both God and man that emphasize piety over pragmatics. It seems to me that God smiles at the sunsets He creates as much as we do. I suggest that He gave us our physical and intellectual capacities as a reflection of His creative ability. An athlete’s run or academic’s thesis may be as “spiritual” as a monk’s prayer.

I propose that the disciplines of humanity such as study, exercise, and work ethics are a reflection of God’s desire to renew and transform all elements of our humanity. Thus if rest is good for our body’s restoration it is also good for our spirit’s restoration.

As we enter that season in the New Year in which we start to fall back into old habits and early resolutions slip away I propose that we take time to heal. The activities of life can wait. The phone calls can be returned. The inbox can be replied to on another day. Our efficiency is stifled not because of lack of organization and discipline, but because we are not healed people. There are places in our lives that have as much pain as sore ankles and sick lungs. Though our desire to achieve says push on as fast as possible, our wiser self tells us to be still. What needs to happen most in us will not happen in the hurry ups of life.

Will you join me in resting to heal?

Come run with me.