Heads pop up.
And for probably a lot less time than it feels like, we dart around playing the gentlest, quietest game of Whack-A-Mole ever! Lay back down! Roll back over! SSSHHHHHHHHH!!!!!
But, Tica, you don't understand! There are objects in this room I haven't tasted yet! I have imaginary touchdowns to make! Mom's calling me on the Elmophone! I haven't finalized my sonata on the alligator xylophone! I haven't decided yet whether it's an alligator or a crocodile! I HAVEN'T EVEN LEARNED THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE TWO! There's so much I have to DOOOOOO!!!!
Of course, what I DO understand is how much they need this rest in order to enjoy the rest of their day. And even beyond the day, adequate sleep is needed for proper development so that they can grow up to make real touchdowns and write sonatas on Steinways (which look nothing like a reptile. How sad.)! That little break is essential to prepare them for what's to come... If only they could understand how important naptime today is for their futures, they wouldn't fight it so much!!!
(This one's gonna sting a little...)
Marica, it's time to take a break.
It is naptime. Time to put away the doing and rest. To relax and to breathe deeply for a while. To get prepared for what's to come.
But, God, You don't understand! I've got this project over here and those people over there and I've got to finish this project and start on that one and and and-- There's so much I have to DOOOOOO!!!!
I flip and flail and fight. I fidget and twitch restlessly, thinking of all the things that are going undone because I'm just lying here. I try to get back up while He's not looking...
Yeah, that works even less for me with Him than it does for the kids with me.
It's scary and unnerving to not be doing. Especially for a doer. I don't like it. Just like my toddlers, I can't immediately see the point in stopping what I'm doing now. Isn't this thing important? Why would letting it go unfinished be a good thing?
But I must remember that He sees the end from the beginning. He knows there is more ahead. Before long, I'll be exchanging my xylophone for a baby grand (follow the metaphor here; I don't play either) and I'll need my rest for proper development. I may not like it right now, but I know it's for my best down the road. So I do my best to embrace this not doing in the present, trusting that it's all part of His plan for my future.
"For I know the plans I have for you," says the Lord.
"They are plans for good and not for disaster,
to give you a future and a hope."