Nap Time

Sunday is a day of rest, so I have been taught. As a minister of music, it is not always so. There is much to pay attention to and to facilitate during service and afterwards, and I do enjoy doing all of that. But at the end of the worship service and chime choir rehearsals, I must admit that I am worn out. I drive home, fix a sandwich, eat, and then have little gumption to do anything else for the rest of the day.

When I was growing up, we were remanded to our rooms where we had to be quiet. Sometimes we risked parental wrath by gathering in someone's room and playing board games, but mostly we just lay on our beds and read. I worked my way through much of the Johnstown Public Library holdings in that manner, enjoying the escapades of Nancy Drew, the Hardy Boys, the Sugar Creek Gang, Little House on the Prairie, Elsie Dinsmore, the Black Stallion, the Bobbsey Twins and a host of other characters to entice the young mind.

Today, I think perhaps I will do a bit of light reading, and I head to my room, curl up under the cozy quilts, and take volume 7 of the Ann of Green Gables series I have been slowly working my way through for the third time. I enjoy the descriptions and capers, realizing how limited my vocabulary and thinking processes have become of late. Even such fluffy fare expands my horizons.

I read a page or two, then find my eyelids too heavy to continue. I will shut them for a minute and rest. Yes, a bit of stillness will feel good. My mind slows and I become aware of the ticking of the clock in the living room, of my own steady breathing, of the absence of noise from the other occupants of the house. They too are resting, worn out from constant activity and life in general.

We rest for an hour, two, three. We are beginning to recuperate. The exhaustion is beginning to lift. Our bodies are starting to function more efficiently and productively. Rest is good. Rest is helpful. Rest prepares us to begin again fresh on Monday. For the rest of the day, we are not energetic nor do we accomplish anything specific other than allowing our bodies to recover. This is necessary and important. We dare not skip so integral an activity. I am glad we are doing it together.