Rocking Chair Kingdom

“Soak it up,” they say. “They are only little once.”

My son is little. Well, he is kind of heavy for his age, but compared to everyone else in the world he is little, very little.

“How is he sleeping?” My response to this question usually elicits solidarity nods from seasoned mothers. “Oh, I remember those nights.”

The daily math does not break even, including the hours of the night. Sleep is actually not possible with exception for a few sprint hours a time. Unfortunately, though, it is not possible to “sprint” sleep. I have tried. In general, I am in a season of operating from a near constant state of fatigue, and it is just the way things are right now.

This time is unique and precious. I know it, but I do not always have the capacity to feel it. Often, I am almost itchy because so much feels undone, unfinished. It is a war between my head and heart, and in the battle, like most battles, a weariness sets in and entrenches. There are built-in times to my schedule where I physically have to sit, and it usually revolves around naps, a bedtime routine, and feeding my son. And as I sit, I scroll… a lot.

I feel entitled to “relax,” and counterfeit rest, fraught with blue light, further intoxicates my thoughts in mom-hacks and cute, French clothes I do not need, packaged in a series of second-long intervals.

I thought it was fine, and maybe it was “fine.” But it was not good— for me.

The pirated relaxation left me itching, feeling undone even more, and susceptible to spiraling thoughts that lead no where good fast.

“If I can get more done, then I will be at peace.” While in the rocking chair, I could multitask.
“If I had that coat, then I could have more attractive clothes.” While in the rocking chair, I could curate.
“If I knew how to do something better, faster, then I would have more time.” While in the rocking chair, I could learn.
“If I can have things as I want them, then I will be at peace.” While in the rocking chair, I could control.

“If … then.”
“If … then.”
“If … then.”

Control — the culprit.

I found so many control groups for this time experiment, and the guaranteed, predictable outcome felt good.

Control felt comfortable.

But then why did I feel even more exhausted?
Why was I more impatient?
Why was I falling into resentment?
Why was I counting the times when I did something and keeping score?

When I do not have “control” is usually when I am controlling, and more acutely in my case, scrolling to achieve relaxation in order to manufacture rest. And in this, I myself hanging out with jealousy, anger, disappointment, overwhelm, stress, and many unattractive others. I do not usually like to keep this company, but control invites them all in. It is a great bargain for a bad time.

Yet, mercifully, the Lord has been whispering to me about a more excellent way. He has a better way and has been beckoning me, gently along a path towards godly order in contrast with controlled chaos. It has been small things — approaching our home from a place of stewardship, hanging up frames on our walls, a few calls with a financial advisor, learning to bake, and removing everything from our home that is not serving our family.

We are built to long for rest and peace, and there is a reason why Jesus says, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” Through writing this piece, I realized that “itching” feeling is better termed as anxiety, and I was abusing control to be its antidote. Anxiety and control are a terrible combination — you heard it here, hopefully not first.

The Prompting

I am in the crux of sacrifice, and two roads lay before me. I could continue my current modus operandi, or I could follow the prompting of the Lord. I could burn some sticks, or I could willingly sacrifice my entitlement to control.

I was holding my son, rocking him to sleep for a nap, and my thoughts turned to Psalm that has been close to me for a few years.

May He send you help from the sanctuary,
from Zion be your support.
May He remember all your sacrifices
and accept your burnt offerings.

May He give you the desire of your heart
and make all your plans succeed.
May we should for joy over your victory
and lift up our banners in the name of our God.

Which is more pleasing to God?
Which is more freeing for me?
What does it mean to be given the desires of my heart?

Sleep helps, but sleep is not rest.

I made a Holy Spirit initiated, Kingdom exchange for my time scrolling while I am in the rocking chair. All the credit and the empowerment to actually act on this idea goes to the Holy Spirit, and it has been much simpler than I anticipated. While I am sitting in the rocking chair, I listen to Scripture aloud as I feed and rock my son.

It has been powerful for me, and I know that it will bear much fruit in the life of my son, too. The Book of Hebrews says, “For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.” And the Prophet Isaiah says, “So shall My word be that goes forth from My mouth; It shall not return to Me void, But it shall accomplish what I please, And it shall prosper in the thing for which I sent it.”

Renewal of the Mind.

And so my mind, instead of being ransacked, is being renewed as I consume Scripture in a new way — a way familiar to me because I love to listen; plus, my eyes are too tired to read very much. I am blessing my son with a gift that will bear fruit for eternity. It is such a small act filled with such power.

I am not capable to white-knuckling my heart to and understanding that this time is precious as my son is so small. Daily, it is becoming evermore precious to me as I treasure the time with my son in my arms. The Holy Spirit shows me so many moments of treasure, and I am much more awake to see it, even amidst exhaustion, because my mind is being renewed. This form of survival for my son is the God-ordered, Kingdom prescription for my blessing. “Therefore we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day” (2 Corinthians 4:16). I am learning to rest with the Spirit, even when my body is fatigued.

There is a way that this same though applies to every season, and there is a form of waiting and longing meant to anchor us to hope and orient us to to the Kingdom. In that longing and waiting, our enemy often comes wielding anxiety and lacking. Partnership with that lie, entices us to the sin and breed cultures of control into our lives.

The Way Out

Yet, the way out is simple: repent.

Father, I repent for the sin of control. In the name of Jesus, I break the lie that control keeps me safe.
Jesus, what do you have for me instead?

The Kingdom of God is here.

The Kingdom of God is in my rocking chair.