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  • Writer's pictureCarol Wawrychuk

Rest


Okay, so I am officially on a Bridge of some kind.  But it’s not the same as my Retirement Bridge.  

Doesn’t feel scary.  Turbulent.  Apprehensive.  


I am rather calm, actually.  A bit unusual for me, since there appears to be no definitive signs; answers; directions. . .


Except . . .  Rest.


OMG. . .Rest?


I mean I am NOT a  Martha.  I’m not fluttering around in the kitchen.  I am  Mary, content to sit and listen.  But THEN?  Let’s get going.  Time to DO something.  A project. SOMETHING.


“But, Carol”, my friend reiterated for the umpteenth time, “You’ve had a lot going on this year.  Maybe God is asking you to Rest”


OMG!  I mean, literally, Oh My God . . .why would you want me to do nothing?  To sit on my back porch?  Listen to the birds?  Look at the flowers beginning to bloom?  Walk my dog?  Read your stories?  Read stories about your stories?  Have time to visit my grandchildren?


Rest?  Really?  Doesn’t sound like much of a ministry to me.  Not the message I anticipated. If it is really a message.


Although I do love sitting out here .  There are moments when I see YOU.  Hear YOU.  It does feel comfortable to not hurry.  What are YOU trying to show me on this Bridge to who knows where?    


Hmmm.  Could it  be part of the plan?  Part of my next slow step on the Bridge? 


Rest. You’ll get to the other side soon enough.

OMG. . .In So Many Ways


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