Ecclesiastes, chapter 3, says there is an appointed time for everything and a time for every event under heaven. If this is true, then there is an appointed time for work and an appointed time for rest.
Rest? Who has time for rest?
The last time I wrote a blog entry was August 17th of this year when I intentionally pulled myself off the “road” to a rest stop. I was exhausted after spending the entire year hopping from one hotel to another on our never-ending road trip, so I sought temporary refuge at the Oregon coast and my sister’s house near Portland.
Well, the weeks flew by and now my rest stops.
At 3:30 this morning I woke to God’s peaceful serenade as rain pattered against the window of my bedroom at my sister’s house. With each wisp of the breeze, Jesus gently roused me to consciousness. I breathed in God’s wonder through the open window and expelled any remaining fatigue left behind from this challenging season. I love the rain; it’s life-giving. I know it can be oppressive for people who live in the Northwest, but not for me; I’ve always loved it. The autumn rains remind me of God’s abundant refreshment after a long siege of summer’s heat.
I’m not a fan of summer; I endure it patiently, but anxiously wait for the fall when I come back to life. Fall is when football starts again, sweaters miraculously re-appear, my chai tastes better, apples come in season, and the changing leaves paint spectacular cityscapes across Northwest skylines.
This autumn has allowed me many moments of rest and reflection, but my timeout is over and I’m ready to rejoin the adventure still in progress. Somebody just revved up an engine out front so I’m fixin’ to think about gittin’ back on the road again. No Willie Nelson for us this time, however; we’re going to be serenaded by one of my all time favorites – John Denver:
“…Country roads take me home to the place I belong…”
Home. The place I belong.
Really? I’m going home?
I don’t know about home yet, but I do know Bob and I are going east…to Ohio for a bit before returning to Colorado. Ohio…where the snow piles high, tornadoes threaten to make spring ugly, my ancestors made their mark on American history, and a tuba player from Ohio State dots the ‘i” of “Ohio” during their half-time shows. I’d love to see that in person one day – it’s on my bucket list.
So, stay tuned everyone. Our rest stops now and we’re merging back onto the interstate for more adventure. Should you hear a crazed woman singing Country Roads at the top of her lungs across the plains of Kansas somewhere, don’t panic, it’s probably just me.
Yes, there is an appointed time for everything under heaven – a time to sing and a time to be silent…
Okay, maybe I won’t sing.
© Copyright, 2013 by Donna Tallman.