Most of the time we want to keep going. Road blocks are an impediment to our goals and we direct God to clear them away. 

 

But recently I heard a few friends describe how being stopped in their tracks felt like a gift.

 

One woman was sick. Her responsibilities, which are many, simply had to sort themselves out as she lay prone in bed. She couldn't muster the energy to read, or talk on the phone, much less cook pasta and rinse dishes. Maybe those things happened. Maybe not. But what did transpire was an emotional pause. When she eventually regained her strength, something was left behind. Perhaps it was the urgency, or the need to solve every crisis as it came. Her awareness of God's presence filled in the empty space created. In the following days some of the same old patterns showed up, but she was less vulnerable. She could see the people she loves as hurting, and did not take it personally. 

 

Another woman was gearing up to barge though the heap of troubles that panted at her door. One of her tasks involved driving a distance, and she tackled it with the fervor of a woman with a plan. Then her tire blew. She was stranded on the side of the road. Hurrying became obsolete as she made some calls, and waited. Watching other people zoom by with their agendas invited her to reflect on her own. Getting nothing done somehow felt more comforting than finishing everything. 

 

One woman described spending the day with her grandson. Time and efficiency lost their status as oligarchs. He followed the whimsy of his imagination, and that meant taking twenty minutes to concoct an elaborate snack. You know, in case hunger struck. He meandered when she would have been inclined to move with purpose. He noticed the cracks in the sidewalk, the tilt of a mushroom in the yard, and the sounds of the garbage truck, all details she had learned to ignore. 

 

The first six days of creation were busy. Inventing mammals, and planting forests are effortful tasks. Giving each toadstool the right slant. Placing the orbs of light just so takes mindful adjustment, and unfurling clouds across the expanse cannot be rushed. Those were good days. 

 

Yet the last day, the climax of God's handiwork was one of rest. And it was very good.