Embracing Self-Care

And when I run, I feel His pleasure. 

—Eric Liddell, from Chariots of Fire

Have you not known? Have you not heard?

The Lord is the everlasting God,

    the Creator of the ends of the earth.

He does not faint or grow weary;

    his understanding is unsearchable.

He gives power to the faint,

    and to him who has no might he increases strength.

Even youths shall faint and be weary,

    and young men shall fall exhausted;

but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength;

    they shall mount up with wings like eagles;

they shall run and not be weary;

    they shall walk and not faint.

—Isaiah 40:28-31

Self-care is really hard. 

I don’t care if you’re single, married, have kids, have a goldfish, work full-time, are unemployed, or whatever. It’s hard stuff, taking care of our needs. 

Self-care is quite the buzzword these days, too, making it sound like yet another to-do item on the never ending list of Things Today’s Modern Woman Must Do. The guilt builds every day we don’t have a hot bath or practice yoga or read for 10 minutes. It’s easy to see the benefits of these things, of course, but who really has the time, or even the will to do any of these things? 

Clearly, I’m one of these women who struggles at the idea of taking care of myself. Of course. Most nights of the week, I TELL MYSELF, THIS, THIS will be the night I have a hot bath before bed! This will be the night I turn off the TV and get myself down the hall to run that delightful and relaxing bath. Haaaaaaaaaa. Yeah, no. Every night, the comfort and sheer impact of routine usually keep me rooted to the couch. And it’s easier to hit Next Episode. Ah, maybe tomorrow night will be different. And so it goes.

But I’m not even just talking about adding in something new, like listening to Mozart before bed or drinking hot water and lemon in the morning…before coffee (sidenote: what.). I’m talking basics here. Getting enough rest. Eating good and delicious food. Taking time to seek out good and encouraging people-time, or taking time to seek out good and encouraging alone-time. Taking time to read the Bible and pray. Pursuing hobbies and interests. Engaging in energizing movement. 

Having chronic pain over the past few years has made me seek out self-care like never before, even though I’m not a natural. I found myself struggling with just the day-to-day running of things, and I couldn’t coast by anymore. I had to adjust, find more ways to take care of myself, to be intentional. Oh, I guess I DO need to go to bed early. Oh, I guess I do need to lay off the sugar and the excessive amounts of caffeine. The list goes on. There has been so much trial and error, so much balancing and adjusting. 

It’s been strange, discovering that it’s good to take care of myself. I know that might sound weird or pompous, but it’s not. I believe most people don’t really believe this. Judging by how run down, ragged, exhausted, and anxious our culture is, most of us are running on steam. And that is terrible. It’s terrible because when we are perpetually exhausted, perpetually at the end of our rope, we are not really ourselves. We are merely surviving. And don’t get me wrong! There are seasons of survival, seasons of coping, seasons of grief. And that’s ok. If we find ourselves in that sort of a season, I pray we can all reach out and get the help we need. 

But when we live out our days and our years, our precious time, by running ragged from one thing to the next, we lose the joy of truly being ourselves, I believe. We stop knowing ourselves, and we lose ourselves in the lists and errands and deadlines and commitments. Perhaps we do this out of guilt. If I’m not busy, if I’m not doing things, I’m not worthwhile. If I’m not pushing myself to the brink physically or emotionally, no one will think I’m doing my best. If I’m not making everyone around me happy all the time, I must be doing something wrong. This is so untrue! While it is best to think of others first and to care for the needs of others, how can we care from an empty cup, as the saying goes? It is not written anywhere we are not allowed to care for ourselves. As a matter of fact, Jesus himself says to love our neighbors as we love ourselves (Luke 10:27). Paul says to look to the interests of others as well as our own (Phillipians 2:4). 

Here is the thing. We are not doing anyone any good when we don’t take care of ourselves. There are no awards for Least Self-Care. You see, it’s all about our motivation, our heart, as most things are. If we don’t take care of ourselves as a way to manipulate or feel like we have one over on everyone, that is just plain wrong. When we want to play the martyr or shock others into sympathy, we are not truly ourselves or acting from a place of trust or faith in God. I have felt this temptation many times in my chronic pain—to not take care of my appearance or let my healthy routines slide so others would actually believe me when I say I feel terrible. Or to work through an event or even keep a job, just so I could prove to everyone that I am a worthy person. 

We are not meant to live our lives in guilt or fear or trying to force sympathy. We are meant to live in freedom, to be ourselves as God created each and everyone of us to be! Each of us, each individual human being, is made in the image of God (Genesis 1:27). We are each worthy of dignity and care and consideration: we are image-bearers of God himself! If we are in Christ, there is no condemnation (Romans 8:1). For freedom, He has set us free (Galatians 5:1)! This is good news for all of us. This means we can all take a deep, deep breath. We can rest in the truth that we are each worthy because God has made us worthy, and if we believe in Christ as God and Rescuer of the world, we have nothing to fear. Not even our own sins and foibles and past mistakes. We will never be found out because God has given us His own righteousness, and given us new life. 

And we must see that God doesn’t want us to burn ourselves out. He wants us to be salt to a flavorless world, to be a shining light to a dark world (Matthew 5:13-14). He made us all different and beautiful, each with a certain way to shine light, to be salt, to be something that makes others look back to God in wonder and joy. One way we bring glory to Him is simply to be who He created us to be. Do you love to dance? Dance! Do you love to garden? Garden! Do you love to draw? Draw! Do you love to host and have people over? Host! Do you love to play music? Play! Do you love to cook? Cook, and invite me over!

Instead of making self-care another weary and impossible chore (because we know that it will always slide to the bottom of the list), let us remember the essence of it. Let us remember that it’s not merely some added thing to do. It’s actually much smaller and bigger at the same time. It’s allowing time and space to be who God created you to be. It’s about embracing what you love and letting God shine through that. And it will look different at different times to different people. It might be taking that bath one day, or reading a favorite book, or watching a new show, or just sitting in the park with the sun on your face. It might be saying no to yet another activity, it might be staying home from church sometimes. It might be saying yes to something new, to someone new. It might be forgiving an old hurt, it might be forgiving yourself for an old mistake. 

In this way, I believe transformation will come to each of us. One of my favorite authors, Frederick Buechner, wrote in Wishful Thinking, “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet,” and this is so true. Your deep gladness, the things you do that make you feel alive, the things you do to offer care to yourself, God uses. Don’t ignore your passions and the things that bring you joy, because God longs to use them to help the whole world. Make time to be intentional, to be creative, to be whole. We have no idea what joy and hope will come to the world when we are truly ourselves. 

Going to get fancy drinks at your favorite coffee shop is highly recommended. 

It's ideal to have a favorite restaurant, too!

Sometimes making yourself a cup of tea in a Batman mug can do wonders.

Baking is my JAM. 

Sometimes nothing but the water will do. 

Peanut butter pie is ALSO my jam. 

Get outside sometimes. It's so good. 

Favorite beverage in a favorite mug...mmm, ritual. 

Hello, January

O to grace how great a debtor

Daily I'm constrained to be!

Let that grace now like a fetter,

Bind my wandering heart to Thee.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,

Prone to leave the God I love;

Here's my heart, O take and seal it,

Seal it for Thy courts above.

-Robert Robinson, Hymn, Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing

So the woman left her water jar and went away into town and said to the people, “Come, see a man who told me all I ever did. Can this be the Christ?”

John 4: 28-29

January. Here we are again. There is a certain kind of freshness, a special spark about you. You brim with possibility and hope for change and renewal. A chance to make things new and different. I like you and the new things you bring, but you also can make things rough. Are the things you hold out even possible, even doable? 

After all, my Facebook and Pinterest feeds are full of reminders to take charge this year; make THIS be THE year; carpe diem all the things; get the body/job/life that I want in 3 easy steps; how to get rid of personal annoying habits and tendencies. Ah, January. You remind me of all the good and bad things about myself. You call me to my highest self, you remind me of good things to chase and ponder and hope for. But you also slyly point out all my shameful characteristics, my physical limitations. It’s rather unfair, actually, the way you raise my sights and slam the door shut all at the same time. The idealist in me (which takes up 83.732% of me) feels like Anne Shirley in January: “Isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?” The realist in me (which takes up the rest of me, and yet is louder than the idealist sometimes) feels the tug of habit and circumstance and fatigue and boredom and selfishness. 

There is so much I want from 2016; there is so much I want to give in 2016. I want to plunge in and experience the ups and downs and joys and sorrows. And yes, January, as you so neatly remind me once a year, I am my own worst obstacle. I give in to worry and fear and anxiety. I seek distraction in shows and the internet more often than is healthy. I make goals that probably aren't attainable or are too vague in nature. I make an art of people-pleasing. I start everything with the best of intentions, but usually seem to fall back to what’s easiest and established. Yet in spite of myself, I have seen some really positive and encouraging changes the past few years. It seems all transformation, all change is fluid. We take steps forward; we take steps back. We must have patience with ourselves and with each other—we are always in process, each on a journey towards who we want to be. 

Even though you spur me on to resolve and transform, you are also an anchor, a reminder to reflect. January, you will always hold beautiful and hard things for me. My miscarriage was exactly two years ago, and I hold in my heart not only that sad memory, but more so the hope that I have a child waiting for me in heaven. Ben and I have our wedding anniversary in January, and it’s such a celebration to delight over, and think about all the good and wonderful days and years and memories we have, and looking ahead to more years together. There are birthdays to remember this month, people I love and can’t wait to celebrate.

When I think about the next 12 months and on what to focus, I want it to be something that I can hold fast to, something that won’t change with circumstances or schedules or plans. There will be failures and successes, jumpstarts and setbacks. I read John 4 earlier this winter, and was struck by how Jesus said the Father is looking for worshipers, who will worship Him in spirit and truth. These words are ancient and beautiful and full of mystery, and I keep coming back to them. Jesus transformed the very nature of following after God. It’s not on a certain mountain or town (as Jesus says to the Samarian woman) or in a specific building or through the Laws of the Old Testament or the laws and rules I set up myself or what others have set up. 

In days of pain and fatigue from my fibromyalgia and endometriosis, I have realized that yes, I can be a worshiper in spite of my circumstances. I can seek Him in spirit and truth. I can pray that God will realign my heart, my mind through Scripture, through song, through nature, through relationships. I can still adore the Redeemer and Creator, still pray through my pain and fears knowing that He is completely for me, for this world. In seeking to be a worshiper, I seek to be a kind of mirror—treasuring Jesus by reflecting His truth and grace in prayer and obedience; mirroring oh so dimly to those around me His love and life. 

This is what I want 2016 to be about. This is what I want to be about. This is what I want to set in motion, January. Seeking to reflect God’s good story, God’s good work in me into the world. I think being a worshiper also means accepting and seeking to understand His unfailing love for me, and to hold out that hope for others. He is the One who does the work in us and for us, in love and faith. This mystery is what holds our faith together, and His love is what will set all things right, is what will truly transform. His love in our lives is what will make all years and all moments shine and sparkle.