Today is my third morning on the grounds of the Order of Saint Helena in North Augusta, South Carolina. Many of you have followed my journey in discernment toward the religious life, and so you may be expecting to read how this visit is going and what my thoughts are on my next steps. I'm sorry to say I'll have to disappoint you on those expectations for now. This post is going to take a bit of a different turn.
I'd like, instead, to dive into something that has been on my heart while I have been here. I'll be honest, I came with the intention of being busy. I brought books and journals, a whole slew of yarn and knitting needles and crochet hooks, and I had every intention of not missing a single chance to be in the chapel praying the Daily Office alongside the Sisters. I had grand expectations of exploring the city of North Augusta and learning a bit about the surrounding area. I wanted to talk to anyone I could find about life here. But now that I am here, I must admit, I've napped. Every. Single. Day.
For the first few days, I felt as though I should be embarrassed of that fact. Someone with more determination or fire might look at a daily nap as a waste of time knowing my hopes and expectations coming in. But yesterday I turned a corner in my way of thinking. I'm no longer embarrassed, but am realizing that this is a kind of "holy rest".
The Order of Saint Helena hosts the North Augusta Artists Guild's Art Gallery. Yesterday was the opening for the new season, and so the doors to the convent were open wide to the community on a grand scale. The dining hall was transformed into a banquet setting and the Sisters donned their full habits to host local area artists and guests. You know, of course, that large social settings are neither my favorite, nor my forte.
Yesterday leading up to this event, I noticed I was tired. Though I had been napping here and there and keeping a fairly regular (and early) bed time, my heart and my mind have been engaged in a lot of hard work. Many of you, if not all of you, know how exhausting it is to have strong and ever-changing emotions flowing through you. And you know how exhausting it is to not be able to turn your mind off from thinking through those emotions and thinking through next steps and thinking through your wants and desires and thinking through your calling and... well. You get the picture.
Yesterday I rose early, like usual. I attended Matins and Eucharist. I took up my usual spot in the Common Room in what has become my favorite rocking chair and worked on my crochet project after having had breakfast. In the silence of the Common Room, as my mind roamed the landscape of my emotions and desires, my busy hands suddenly went still. I was tired. And I couldn't set aside that tiredness like I had in days past. I couldn't set aside the emotion. I couldn't set aside the thoughts. They all just came flooding in, and it was in the flood that I remembered the Art Gallery opening on the horizon. My shoulders sagged and I felt the weight of exhaustion set in.
It was then that I chose to do something that went against all my previous expectations for the week. I packed my knitting bag, walked back up to the Guest House, and I went back to bed. The timing of yesterday's nap meant that I missed Noon Prayer.
I spent the entirety of the late morning and early afternoon either asleep or alone and completely unengaged. Simply put, I rested.
When I emerged from the Guest House and walked back down to the Chapel for Vespers and the opening of the Art Gallery that was to immediately follow, I was, for the first time in several days, at peace. My heart was full of fondness for this place and these people. My mind was quiet save for small prayers of thankfulness. I walked back down to Vespers slowly, savoring the moments in the briskness of the December day. And wouldn't you know, this shy introvert had the absolute time of her life among a crowd of strangers.
Our culture doesn't take well to rest. We are a busy people, convinced that our productivity is equated to our worthiness. There is something a little scary about the prospect of setting aside our expectations of productivity and allowing ourselves to simply "be". Yesterday I hit a point where my exhaustion outweighed the fear, however. I knew that if I were to continue to engage in a meaningful way, I would have to disengage for a while.
Last year, my Director in the Interyear Fellowship program said something that has stuck with me. He said, "You know, there are worse things than to fall asleep in the presence of God." I appreciated those words when I heard them, but it wasn't until they bounced back into my head yesterday that I fully grasped at their truth.
I (too often) look at whether or not my day is successful based on my productivity level. Sometimes that means spending 8-9 hours on my feet making an array of coffees for an even bigger array of guests that frequent the coffee shop I work at. Other times that means checking the boxes of keeping my appointments and visiting friends and maintaining relationships. Still other times that looks like doing the hard work of therapy and thinking through both my logical and emotional selves, trying desperately to merge those two selves into a Wise Mind.
Very, very rarely do I set aside my desire for "producing" for "resting." For simply being. But yesterday, I did. From about 10 am - 4:45 pm I didn't do a single thing that was "productive." I laid my head down and slept, but did so knowing I was falling asleep in the presence of God. And I got up and ate a simple meal in silence, but did so knowing that I was eating in the presence of God. I made a pot of coffee and sat enjoying the comfort and warmth it brought me, and did so knowing that I drank in the presence of God. And when I started my walk back down from the Guest House, having so simply rested in the presence of God, I was at peace.
God is always there, inviting us to rest in the reality of Divine Presence. We fool ourselves into thinking that God wants us to always be busy. Always be moving. Always be producing. Perhaps what God wants for us is to simply be. To take those moments of holy rest. Allow our hearts and minds to be set at the altar as living sacrifices. There are worse things, my friends, than simply being... than resting... and maybe even taking a nap in the presence of God.