Permission to Pause

The day I had scheduled in for today did not eventuate.

I was planning to get a lot of my book work and filming completed because looking at the calendar there were a few weeks where I had no ability to film my weekly videos or complete my weekly podcasts.

The night before as I was preparing dinner, I felt a bit achy – not unusual for me – so I just ignored the sensations.

As the night progressed, I felt like my throat was sore and every time I swallowed it was red raw. So, I made up my Mum’s recipe of a hot lemon drink with honey hoping it would nip everything in the bud.

To no avail. As I tossed and turned all night my symptoms seemed to be getting worse.

Oh, I was so frustrated. I was mentally reworking my schedule in the next few days to see when I could now do the filming etc because it definitely was not going to happen tomorrow.

I felt bad ringing in sick the next morning, but I was not fit to do any work.

Oh God I prayed, why today of all days? It’s disrupting my timetable.

I felt like God replied to me……

“Here’s your permission to pause. To have a day that doesn’t look impressive on paper. To spend time watching the sky shift, listening to music, lying on the couch, catching up on sleep, recuperating, maybe doing nothing….”

Productivity, working hard, might get you ahead, but rest keeps you whole.

Let go of the pressure to be “on” all the time. You’re allowed to have quiet days.

Messy days. Days where you do less and somehow gain more in your spirit.

Today is one of those days.

Maybe your brain is not working today, let your Spirit rest in me.

Don’t fight it. Go with my flow.

I will restore you, refresh you.

Your day off has been physically forced upon you. Allow your Spirit to sit and receive. Abide in me as scripture states.

Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing. 

John 15:4-5 NRSV

This day of abiding in me will bring much fruit. Your filming, productions, workload will run smoother and be of greater benefit into the future.

When have you been forced to have a day off, a week, longer even and God knew what He was doing? When were you forced to abide in Him? No agenda but Him loving you and you loving Him?

May these jottings from my journal inspire you to believe in and fall in love with Christ- the hope of the world, as stated in Jeremiah 17:7, ‘Blessed is the man who believes and trusts in and relies on the Lord and whose hope and confident expectation is the Lord!’

Love


Rosemary

Every week groups of ladies meet together to chat about the things I raise in my weekly blog post and to chat about life in general. We call these ‘Heart Connect’ groups.


DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

When was the last time you gave yourself permission to pause? Or were you forced to pause?

Can you think of a time that God worked in you while you paused? What did God say to you? What did God do in you?

How can you abide in God more?

8 Comments

  • Lyn Sparrow

    Thank you for your story and thoughts. I watch you and your p precious husband most days and am so inspired , there is no other God who can walk with you, talk to you and guide you like our Heavenly Father with the Spirit in you.

  • Marissa

    Maybe you need to go out there and find yourself a competent pharmacist who actually knows what they’re doing

  • Mrs Yvonne Etchells

    Rosemary, I pray you feel better soon. But you words are wise sometimes we just need to stop and wait for the Lord to sit with us. God Bless.

  • Carmel Cotter

    Hi Rosemary I pray you get better soon add a bit of ginger to your lemon n honey drink as my Mama used to felt better after reading your story so inspiring . Yes after that I just rest n let the mess in my house stay there as I’m very exhausted I leave everything in God take care 💚

  • Carla Villafana Villafana

    Dear Rosemary,
    I very rece try had a “tired” day. But you know I did find myself catching up on Bruce’s talks. I listened to music and to you. By evening I felt better and have had really good days foloowing. Today is a slower day but my spirit is high.🥰❤️

  • Dianne

    Thank you, Rosemary, for sharing such an important message. I have taken note to keep your message from God in my journal so I can re-read it when I need the reassurance it delivers. May God continue his abundant blessings for you, your loved ones, your whole team and its mission.

  • Rosie Imbert

    Dear Rosemary, I’ve had a week of permission to pause, well force one, but I thank God for allowing me to do so. I was sick ( influenza A) the whole week, so my full week schedule had to be rescheduled.i feel much better and ready to start again nx week. Thank you Rosemary 🙏and you’re in my prayers everyday 😘 hope you feel better soon.

  • Jason Langsford

    The Church of Me, Myself and I

    There’s a church inside the Church these days,
    With a congregation small,
    Where the Gospel starts with “Me, Myself,”
    And rarely mentions “All.”

    Its creed is carefully modernised,
    Its doctrine freshly spun:
    “My suffering must be noticed,
    And my grievances come first, bar none.”

    The pulpit has a mirror now,
    Conveniently installed,
    So every sermon finds its way
    Back to the one enthralled.

    “My health! My pain! My latest test!
    My struggle! Hear my story!”
    One wonders when the bulletin
    Became The Book of My Own Glory.

    We hear each cough and hospital trip,
    Each setback and frustration,
    Delivered with the solemn weight
    Of private revelation.

    Then women’s rights must take the floor—
    Again, lest we forget;
    Another speech, another cause,
    Another grievance debt.

    And certainly defend the wronged,
    Wherever wrong is done;
    But strange how “equal dignity”
    Can somehow equal one.

    For somewhere outside this little church,
    Beyond its favourite themes,
    Are men whose desperation never
    Makes the parish screens.

    A father loses everything
    And quietly disappears;
    A husband breaks beneath a load
    He’s carried on for years.

    A young man learns that asking help
    May brand him weak or strange;
    So answers every “How are you?”
    With “Good, mate”—and nothing changes.

    And nine Australian men a day
    May die by suicide;
    But apparently their tragedy
    Doesn’t fit the fashionable side.

    No special sermon every week,
    No righteous declaration;
    No lengthy homily explaining
    Their “lived experience” to the nation.

    Perhaps they need a better slogan,
    A hashtag or a brand;
    Perhaps their deaths need marketing
    Before we’ll understand.

    Perhaps some clever committee
    Could meet from ten till three,
    And after lunch determine whether
    Men deserve sympathy.

    But first another announcement:
    Our founder isn’t well!
    Please gather round attentively—
    There are symptoms she must tell.

    Every ache receives a chapter,
    Every treatment gets a verse;
    While somewhere someone’s silent son
    Has decided life is worse.

    But never mind that awkward thought—
    Back quickly to the script:
    There are approved injustices
    From which we mustn’t drift.

    The irony is magnificent:
    A church proclaiming “care”
    Can speak endlessly of suffering
    While choosing whose to share.

    It lectures us on empathy
    While empathy grows thin;
    Compassion has a guest list now—
    Not everyone gets in.

    Yet Christ encountered suffering
    Without a demographic test;
    He never asked the broken man
    Which grievance group was best.

    He didn’t build a ministry
    Around Himself alone;
    He noticed those whom fashionable
    Compassion hadn’t known.

    So yes, defend the dignity
    And rightful place of women;
    But mercy isn’t justice when
    Half humanity stays hidden.

    If your “inclusive” little church
    Has favourites at the door,
    Perhaps the word inclusive
    Doesn’t mean what it did before.

    If every road leads back to you,
    Your sickness and your fight,
    Perhaps you’ve built a monument
    And simply called it “rights.”

    A church within a church indeed—
    With doctrine strangely clear:
    “My suffering is sacred;
    Yours depends on who will hear.”

    So perhaps retire the mirror,
    And put a window in its place;
    Look outward at the suffering
    That rarely gets a face.

    Look for the quiet father,
    The forgotten brother, son;
    The man who says he’s “doing fine”
    When actually he’s done.

    Because Christ did not establish
    A Church of Me and Mine;
    Nor teach that human suffering
    Should follow party lines.

    And when compassion becomes fashionable,
    Selective, loud and small,
    Remember what Christianity
    Was meant to say:

    Christ died for all.