Growing up, as my father would tuck me in at night, he would often avail himself to hearing the frustrations of my day.  I’m sure it was an act of loving patience for him as he would listen to the angst of a ten year old boy Billy said I was a bad basketball player, which would then morph into the insecurities of a young teenager I don’t know how to ask Jamie to the dance, to the late teenage I don’t know how to confront so-and-so on this issue.  After listening intently and compassionately, he would then often quote the legendary Vince Lombardi:

“Fatigue makes cowards of us all.”

We would say our prayers, and then I would drift off to sleep, hoping to find a bit of courage to face my fears as I awoke the next morning.

I can’t think of better life advice to offer.

I’ve found myself in a spot these past few weeks where fatigue has absolutely been my master.  And man—when I’m fatigued, everything looks and feels like a storm cloud, rather than a welcome addition of rain.  Even those around me offer the unsolicited “you look really tired right now”.  And I’m usually pretty dang good about playing poker with my physical well-being.

 

When I’m over-tired, my relationships suffer.  I find myself easily irritable with those close to me over things that might certainly annoy, but shouldn’t send me over the top.

When I’m fatigued, my personal outlook suffers.  I forget to record the big game on the DVR, and suddenly I’m telling myself that I can never get things right, that nothing I do succeeds, that I’m an unorganized buffoon.

And I take this self-defeatist attitude with me to work.  Even just this week, as large orders were piling in, my first reaction was that of feeling overwhelmed by the work, wanting to avoid rather than engage; almost irritated by the disruption rather than excited about the growth of our business.

 

Fatigue truly does render us powerless to handle our situations effectively…

 

What’s even more debilitating is when our fatigue isn’t just physical.  Sometimes it’s emotional fatigue.  Sometimes it’s spiritual, where we lose all hope of things ever “working out”.

Of course, we all intrinsically know that the answer to fatigue is rest.

But sometimes that rest is fleeting, hard to come by, or seemingly impossible with the weight of responsibility we might carry.

But I’ve found from experience (and I continue to re-learn this constantly), that rest must be planned in, or it simply doesn’t happen.

I’ve had to come to grips with the fact that an hour of television does far less to recharge me than flipping the pages for 20 minutes of quiet reading.

I’ve come to realize that when I don’t turn my phone, computer, and TV off for 24 consecutive hours each week, I falsely assume that the world needs me overachieving or else it will fall apart.

I’ve noticed that regardless of how comfortable I make my office, the discomfort of a bike ride or a hike in nature fills my soul with a peace like nothing else does.

I would imagine we’re all on varying levels of the fatigue spectrum at the moment, but I’ll throw the question out there:

 

What recharges you?

 

Physically?  Emotionally?  Spiritually?  Because believe it or not, they’re all deeply intertwined.  And, I believe, the answer to that question is not necessarily a knee-jerk reaction.  Rather, I believe it should be pondered for a while, mediated on, and really given some deep thought.

Now, I know that for me personally, I would feel incredibly rested and recharged if I were sitting in an oceanfront villa with my own private beach, lounging next to my wife, reading a book while my boys played blissfully in the waves as a light breeze brushed my cheeks.  I think I would satisfied with about a month (at a minimum) and then I would most certainly feel fine…

Sorry—I allowed fantasy to creep in for the moment; forgive me.

And while sitting on a private beach sounds nothing short of incredible, I’ve come to appreciate Yogi Berra’s Wherever You Go, There You Are philosophy. 

Escaping reality for a while might change my environment, but it won’t change me.

For me to rent a private villa might give me physical rest for a season, but something tells me the emotional toll of carrying that financial debt would weigh me down soon enough.  And this is why I suggest that we don’t make “restful” decisions impetuously, but that we consider how we might find rest in the midst of our present circumstances, and not independent of them.

That might certainly involve a getaway (we’re headed to the Rockies for just that very purpose in about a week), but it also might mean giving yourself the morning off and spending it with a loved one.   Maybe it means finally calling that marriage counselor and working toward marital and relational rest at home.  Maybe it is as simple as cancelling the Saturday morning golf for a weekend, sleeping in, and having breakfast with the family.

In sports, they say that injuries are much more likely to occur when an athlete is tired.  And so, whatever it is, that refuels you, I would encourage you to take action on it, and soon, before the perceived disasters become real ones. 

For we all know that there is a vast difference between rest and escape.  That one is recharging, healthy, and ultimately productive.  The other, however, can breed disconnect, disengagement, and ultimately, dissatisfaction.

And so the question remains: what refuels you?

For me, I spent the last weekend enjoying some quiet from technology, some time with God, and some time out in nature.  My wife and I planned a date for later in the week. 

I chose to engage with my children, helping them make campfire foil-wrapped stew instead of moping around the house, grumpy that I didn’t get a good night of sleep the night before.

This weekend wasn’t a cure-all, but it was a step.  My heart was given some rest, my mind some peace, and I feel just a bit lighter because of it.

Here’s hoping we can all enjoy some intentional rest over the coming weeks and months.  Better yet, perhaps we can make rest just as much a part of our regular routine as laundry, bills, and errands.

Here’s to a less frenetic week, friends…