I have to admit… 

the last couple of weeks have not been easy.

I mean, it’s never easy when someone whom you love is suffering or in pain––

when they seem so helpless––

and there’s nothing that you can do to fix it.

Caring for someone who is sick… 

or unwell… 

or recovering from surgery…

is hard work.

Needless to say, they’re going through their own emotional rollercoaster.

But it takes its toll on you, too.

It’s emotionally draining:

trying to be a source of strength and calm for them;

and trying to meet their physical and emotional needs;

while, somehow, trying to deal with your own.

But it’s also physically exhausting:

running back and forth to the hospital––

sometimes multiple times a day––

bringing home laundry and taking it back…

with little time for turn-around.

Suddenly, you also become the single parent to the dog…

and you’re having to take him for a walk at least once a day…

when, normally, you might have only done it a few times a week.

And dogs don’t understand why, all of a sudden, mummy isn’t there.

And they don’t know how to express their confusion and concern––

apart from misbehaving…

or simply barking at you for no apparent reason.

You can be so busy caring for a person who’s sick…

and caring for the dog––

running around and doing a whole bunch of chores that would normally be shared but now can’t be;

and doing all of the shopping, cooking, and cleaning;

or suddenly having to go out and buy things that are needed;

or rushing into the hospital because there’s a new development…

or a conference with the medical staff;

while trying to get everything ready for when they come home…

more physically fragile and dependent than when they left…

even if only temporarily––

that it can become all-consuming.

And, in the process, it feels like you’re having to put your own life on hold.

Activities that are important for you––

and for your own mental well-being–– 

get disrupted.

But you don’t want to complain about that or make a fuss––

because of everything that your loved one is going through;

so you start to feel guilty for feeling like that––

as if you’re being selfish.

And… 

if you’re not careful… 

it can start to build into resentment.

But it can also start to take a toll, as well.

It’s easy to get caught up with the feeling that you have to put your emotions…

your wants and needs…

and your own life on hold… 

for the sake of the other person.

And, in so doing, not only does it become harder to give to the other person––

and to care for them and their needs––

but we can become sick, ourselves.

 

If we’re honest, many of us are not very good at looking after ourselves…

are we?

And it’s not just when someone whom we love is sick.

Too often we work too hard…

take on too many commitments and obligations…

and fill our lives with too many activities…

because we find it hard to say “no”.

Too often…

we worry about things that happen to us, or around us—

things that aren’t going well;

things that we’re afraid of––

often irrationally;

things that we regret or we’re ashamed of.

And, too often…

as a result of that worry…

we don’t sleep properly… 

and we don’t eat properly––

either binging on calorie-rich comfort foods or skipping meals…

or, perhaps, having an extra glass of wine than we know we should.

We’re not good at looking after ourselves…

especially when confronted with the pressures and problems of our families;

or when we see people in need.

Add to that the neoliberal values in which most of us have been raised;

and the Protestant work ethic that most of us have imbibed;

along with a more general sense of Christian guilt––

which tells us that we’re not supposed to look after ourselves;

that we’re supposed to turn the other cheek and put others’ needs ahead of our own…

and all of that sort of thing.

But where do we draw the line?

 

“The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught. He said to them, “Come away to a deserted place by yourselves and rest awhile.” For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat.

Earlier, Jesus had sent the disciples out two-by-two to continue his mission:

proclaiming God’s love and forgiveness;

embracing the marginalised and excluded;

caring for the sick;

and offering healing and wholeness to all who would listen.

And now, in our reading this morning, they have come back…

enthusiastic at their successes;

buoyed by their experiences;

eager for more.

But Jesus tells them to go away by themselves…

and rest;

to find a place of peace where they can be alone and quiet––

not surrounded by jostling crowds;

not surrounded by people in need;

alone;

quiet;

open to God.

He wants them to reconnect with the God who re-creates, restores, and renews;

the God who wants them to find life— 

life in all its fullness;

the God who cares for each and every one of them;

the God who wants each one of them to know peace…

and refreshment…

and rest.

They have done enough for now.

Now, they need to rest.

There will be time, later, to continue what they have been doing:

proclaiming;

healing;

welcoming and embracing;

doing good and making a difference.

But now they need to rest.

And they need to be given permission to do so…

because the disciples–– 

like us–– 

don’t always know when to stop.

And they don’t always know how.

Because it’s easy to think that everything depends on you;

that things won’t happen if you don’t do them yourself;

that people will be hurt…

or they’ll miss out.

And yet, Jesus still tells the disciples to go and rest;

to tend to their own needs;

to look after themselves;

so that they may be of use to others in the future.

 

In this story we see Jesus the compassionate shepherd:

the one who is with us…

to teach…

to feed…

to heal…

but also to remind us to rest.

Because God wants us to be whole.

God wants us to have fullness of life.

God wants us to know peace beyond what we can begin to imagine––

so that we might be able to offer it to others as well.

But we can’t do that if we aren’t willing to stop;

to wait;

to listen;

to put aside all of our strivings;

to put aside the demands that others place on us–– 

or the ones that we place on ourselves––

and simply ‘be’.

 

We won’t be of any use to others if we don’t learn to stop––

if we don’t take time to be still…

to be quiet…

and to allow God to renew our strength and our spirit.