Monday, February 26, 2018

Intentional Movement, Intentional Rest

Ice it. Stretch it. Ride the bike.

These were infamous words in our high school locker rooms and practices.  The seasoned athletic trainer on campus bestowed his mantra on about eleventy thousand student athletes over the course of his career, I'm sure.

Turn your ankle?  Ice it. Stretch it. Ride the bike.

Knee pain? Ice it. Stretch it. Ride the bike.

Jammed a finger? Ice it. Stretch it. Ride the bike. 

(Well, at least the first two prescriptives applied for the jammed finger.  That third one depended on how your coach was feeling toward you that day.)

And while Coach Fisher's ubiquitous advice is something of a legend amongst alumni of a certain age, I think he was on to something bigger than our physical health.

I've just returned from an indescribable (in the best way) women's retreat with my sweet sisters in Christ from our church.  The focus for the weekend was Selah . . . a Hebrew word meaning to take a rest, a pause.  In our case this weekend, specifically a pause to remember who the Lord is and how He has already moved in our lives.  Good stuff.  Yes, a rest!  Who couldn't get on board with a time to rest and reflect?!

On the hour drive north to the retreat location, I was listening to singer/songwriter Christy Nockels' podcast (please make this a regular on your list - her wisdom, humor and insight will not disappoint).  She was noting how her chiropractor had recently encouraged her to take walks and keep moving after her adjustments because movement is healing.

And, as most of us would probably agree, she observed how counterintuitive this feels.  When we're injured, we want to baby the wound, protect it and be extra cautious.  Keep it on ice. The chiropractor I see had the same view on movement when I was desperate for healing of my locked-up back . . .God made our bodies to heal.  Movement gets the fluids moving around those joints and is healing.

The same is true of us spiritually.  We need to move, to walk in the gifts the Lord has given us, to step out in faith, to keep pressing in to keep from getting spiritually stiff.

Hmmm.  So on the way to a retreat about rest, I'm learning that movement is healing.

Confusing?

Christi concluded that we are made for both resting and movement, too much of either is counterproductive.

Ah, yes.  This makes sense.

But here is where I falter.  I've fallen into a pattern of constant movement - physical and mental - until I'm spent and exhausted.  The rest comes whether I want it or not, because of the utter exhaustion and often at too high a price - snapping at children, neglecting time with husband, falling behind in every area.

How much sense does this make?

I very much doubt our beloved high school trainer would have told an athlete with a freshly torn ACL, "Get up off that field, throw some ice on that baby and get pedalin'! I wanna see you on that bike in 5!"

Nor would he have let an athlete with a minor sprain sit motionless day after day with ice pack after ice pack.  "Better not even think about that bike for at least another year - can't be too careful."

Ridiculous.

There is a time for intentional rest and healing.

There is a time for intentional movement and healing.

And when the athlete follows the trainer's well-versed expertise, they are rewarded with renewed strength.

Anyone see where I'm going yet?

What if I asked the Lord to show me where I need to rest, to stop striving?  When I need to set aside time to be quiet, to stop analyzing what "makes sense" and instead ask "but are You in it, Lord?"

What if I asked the Lord for bravery to step out and move in His timing? To pursue deeper relationships with those unlike ourselves.  To serve. To walk in our giftings and talents. To take a step not knowing what the next one remotely looks like.

And what if I continually allowed Him, the expert, to oversee my training, my healing - to dictate when to rest and when to move?

Might I be restored to even greater health?  Mentally and physically?

I think so.

So, all these years later and unbeknownst (that's a weird word, right?) to him, Coach Fisher's advice is proving wise all these years later.  It's all about balance and timing.

Ice it. Stretch it. Ride the bike.

And listen to your trainer.