If I don’t come apart, I might come apart.
I’m a “yes” man. I know the dangers, but I’m the world’s worst when it comes to saying no. Perhaps accomplishing multiple tasks in a given time frame sparks my adrenaline or enhances my self-image. Maybe I simply enjoy the challenge of seeing how much I can complete in a given day. I suppose it could be I see so many good things that need doing. If I feel I have the skill set to accomplish them, I volunteer. My grandmother continually reminded me about too many irons in the fire. The world is saturated with wonderful opportunities, but if I don’t manage my time I will come apart at the seams trying to complete too many of them simultaneously.
The psalmist led his sheep to peaceful pastures where they could lie down and digest their food. God did not make my body invincible. Just as he gave an example of the need for rest in his original creation, so my need for rest is just as great. If I keep on keeping on, my body will eventually give me rest whether I purposefully take it or not.
My intention to come apart forces me to examine my priorities. There are thousands of good things I can do, but my duty is to discover what God wants me to do. I can’t do everything. Because I’m a “yes” man, coming apart entails me knowing when to say “no.” I thrive on deadlines, so declining offers that appear enticing and exciting is difficult.
Coming apart is not only advantageous for individuals but it’s also essential for families. Family members must take time for each other—to talk, discuss, pray, read God’s Word, listen, and make plans.
One translation reads, He makes me to lie down in green pastures. I’ve discovered that if I don’t come apart voluntarily, God will make me lie down. He has before, and I have no doubt he will again if I intentionally overload myself. How are you practicing coming apart?
Prayer: Merciful God, show us the need of slowing down long enough to let our bodies and spirits recuperate.