Winterizing: the importance of rest for social justice-minded Christians

Winter is quickly approaching my neck of the woods: leaves have fallen from the trees, displaying barren branches and trunks beautifully poised like dancers frozen in time.  

A continuous sense of coming snow has invaded the crisp air. Perhaps most telling of all, even my coat-adverse teenagers now sometimes shrug on their winter jackets before heading off to school. 

A few weeks ago, friends encouraged me to winterize. Not just the regular winterizing that those in cold climates are all too familiar with—the pulling out of winter clothing from the basement storage tubs, the yearly mall trek to buy new boots for the kids, the switching to snow tires in preparation for icy roads to come.

My friends had been reading a book on life’s winter seasons, those quieter periods in our lives when rest happens, when we sit by the fire drinking cocoa and reflecting. Seasons where less building and more nourishment become the priorities.

In theory, I liked the idea. A mom with physical disabilities who has four neurodiverse kids, when am I not tired? Nonetheless, my personality has me running through life at breakneck speed, taking on as much as possible. A rest season sounded ideal. I began to withdraw from a few of the commitments in my life—to step back from some committees and places I volunteered at.   

Is a wintering season of rest even congruent with the Micah 6:8 teaching?

But then, it hit me: winter can be ideal for building. I saw this in a recently sold vacant neighbourhood lot: a construction crew has begun to post signs of impending house building throughout the long winter. 

Temperatures here can fall below minus thirty-five degrees, and snow can pile quite high. If a house can be built even in such extreme temperatures, surely, I could keep going, keep building in life’s winter seasons. 

Perhaps, I mused, for social justice-minded Christians, the thing to do in the winter seasons of our lives is to continue to contribute every way we can. Is a wintering season of rest even congruent with the Micah 6:8 teaching to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with God?

And then came a recent morning when the importance of rest crystallized.  

It was the day before the first snow fell, and the November air gusted as I hustled my youngest kids to an early morning optometrist appointment. It was cold, and the sky was still dark as we entered the clinic. How weary I felt.

Sadness had nestled inside my heart: four days prior, one of my kids had been diagnosed with a neurodevelopmental disorder. This diagnosis came exactly one week after difficult news about another of my children. I was grappling to carry and process it all.

Too, I was hurting: for a few days, pain had been radiating up the side of my face. I’d rationalized it as mere stress—not a big deal. Nonetheless, it was worsening, so between rushing my kids to the clinic and settling them in the waiting room, I squeezed in time to book myself an emergency dental appointment that afternoon. My body was crying out for healing, my spirit for rest. 

Frequently, Jesus withdrew from the crowds and his disciples.

After my children’s appointments finished, we bustled back through the chilly air—and discovered that the battery in our wheelchair-adapted van was dead. It had just enough life to let down the ramp down so I could load my wheelchair inside, but not enough life to start the van. 

We were stuck. My kids decided it was the opportune time to start arguing with each other. At that moment, the battery and I were in a competition for who was more drained. 

While we waited for my husband to come boost the van, I came to accept the winter season I was entering. While some winters are a season of growth and building, this season needed to be different. I deeply value social justice and believe in Christ’s calling to live a life focused on loving God and my neighbour, but this doesn’t negate the importance of rest.

In fact, even Jesus rested. “Rest is an important theme throughout the Bible,” writes Amanda Williams. She explains Jesus recognized the human need for rest— “to commune with God, process events, and renew strength of mind, body and spirit before continuing his Father’s work.”

Frequently, Jesus withdrew from the crowds and his disciples. Despite his ministry’s heavy demands, he would retreat to the mountains or other solitary places to connect with God the Father and restore his spirit. 

As an early bird (unlike me, a permanently exhausted pigeon), Jesus’ habit was to rise early for prayer in lonely places. It’s an invaluable lesson, a powerful reminder of the importance of regularly retreating and recharging.