A Note From Hilary McCullough

Note-from-compass-MV-Hilary

“No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love Him.” 1 COR 2:9

Over the past two weeks, I had the honor to vacation with my wonderful husband. It’s a rare occurrence that I would leave all my responsibilities behind to focus on rest, and it was a welcomed opportunity. As I toiled beforehand to prepare everything for my volunteer staff (who handled everything like the pros they are), I forgot to prepare myself for rest. It’s a funny thing, the necessity to prepare for rest. Isn’t rest supposed to be natural? Don’t we “fall into it”? I sure don’t.

As we spent time with family and friends in our native mitten-shaped state of Michigan, I was good. I was “on”. I was connecting with people like the pro connector I am! Productivity! Purpose! Connection! YEAH! Except I was not resting.

Later on, we built in some time for just the two of us. It was glorious. WE LIKE EACH OTHER, you guys. I forget that sometimes. Suddenly I was faced with the fact that I do not know how to rest. I just don’t. I wasn’t prepared to turn “off”. Here I was with my husband of seven years with no responsibilities other than to enjoy each other and our time, and I couldn’t do it.

As part of our travels, we went to a state park to explore the coast. There were rocky shorelines, cliffs, waterfalls and flowers. It stopped me. I was overwhelmed with gratitude and awe. It was so overt. “Okay, now I’m starting to rest. I’m good. Take it all in.” TRY. I was still trying to achieve a goal. I was not resting. I was checking off the “rest” box.

We stopped at some tide pools. Boring. There is nothing happening in these tide pools. I see specks and lumps and a shiny surface. What a waste of time. Next, please! Then I saw movement: a crab. A cute little sideways-walking buddy. Some shells started moving and I stopped in my tracks. The closer I looked, the more I saw. I saw colorful rocks, little tiny baby-sized mussels, and fish – so many intricate details. There was no purpose, only taking in the awe of what I could have missed if I kept trying to “achieve” rest. I almost missed this! My husband had to come over and ask me if I was okay because I stayed so long at that tide pool. I was okay – I was more than okay. I was resting. I was reminded in that moment that we have such clear expectations of what we SEE, what we HEAR, and what we KNOW. That tide pool was “boring”. There was “nothing there to see”. Yet in that moment, I started to experience true rest in God’s glory and in His creation. Don’t we have so many proverbial tide pools in our lives? Things we are so sure of as we glance by, trying to achieve something else?

The church verse always pops into my head in those moments. No one has seen, heard or even imagined what God has in store for us. We assume. We rush. We strive. But we have no clue how or when He will reveal what He is doing. Moments of grief become richer, joy becomes multi-faceted, and people’s stories become more valuable when we remember this. There is so much more beneath the surface of our assumptions, and sometimes we get precious moments where we are faced with it and God reveals his goodness. I’m so thankful for my tide pool moment.

See you soon, and keep an eye out for your tide pools.

Hilary

 

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