Rest

I've never been that comfortable with rest. Growing up with Southern Baptist parents, I was strong-armed into it on Sundays growing up. Rest become synonymous with ideas of "bed rest" which pretty much means house arrest.  I realized I had the issue when my small group looked at Psalm 23.  Being made to lie down near still waters would never be my vacation agenda. I prefer motion and excitement and change.

Unfortunately, I now having a running injury and the sucky Air Force doctor recommends rest. That seems like a terrible idea in the Army, and I think he doesn't understand the importance of running for my career. But the pain is forcing me to rest anyway. Further, I feel like I'm in social rest mode. Boyfriend PCSed, best playmate is about to leave the island, and I feel completely uninspired to hang out with anyone else. I'm resting socially and surrounding myself with books and my imaginary friendships with Miranda, Carrie, Charlotte, and Samantha. And I'm missing the diversion of long runs.

A goal for me this year has been training to try for a female cultural support team. I know I can't go to selection with an injury. So it's forced rest. And this means resting my body and my goals. I'm waiting for another goal to occur to me, but in my meantime I'm being made to lie down and hoping restoration feels like a life improvement instead of a band aid.