Did you know that the most important part of getting physically stronger… is recovery?
A workout can leave you sore and barely able to walk, but if you don’t take time to rest, it does very little for you.
It’s during rest that your muscles repair, rebuild, and adapt to what they’ve just been through. Without it, you can actually grow weaker—not stronger.
Our minds work the same way.
Our Creator designed each 24-hour day with a time when the world grows quiet, the lights dim, and the soft sound of crickets (or, in some seasons, pure silence) settles in.
Why?
So our minds can process the experiences of the day. Sort memories into mental pockets labeled “what worked” and “what to change next time.” That overnight reset is often enough to keep us going.
But sometimes, life asks more of us.
Sometimes, one night of sleep simply isn’t enough.
Maybe you’ve been circling the globe on back-to-back trips.
Maybe you’ve spent weeks in unfamiliar or uncomfortable situations, trying to do good in big ways.
Maybe you’re taking your beloved mother to weekly treatments—watching her fight to be strong for you, while you know she’s only experiencing pain.
Or, taking care of one who seems to be showing no strength at all.
Maybe you’re supporting your husband as he faces the scars of childhood trauma— becoming his protector when he wants to be protecting you, but can’t.
These moments are heavy.
And they are gifts.
They stretch you, grow you, deepen you.
But only if you give yourself time to rest.
Time to let your brain and body catch up. To heal. To strengthen.
If you have been involved with endurance sports then you know a little about active rest—gentle movement that help your system recover after a major exertion. A slow walk. A bike ride on a flat road.
When it comes to emotional exertion, quiet activities can do the same. Painting, writing, journaling, sipping tea. Organizing a drawer. Letting yourself be vulnerable with safe, trusted people.
It gives your mind space to heal. It transforms pain into strength.
It builds the kind of wisdom, compassion, and quiet courage you’ll need for whatever important, beautiful, hard thing comes next.
This is why I write. The process of it. The mindfulness of it. The vulnerability of it. It takes what I have poured out of myself, and fills it back up.
So allow her to come out, the poet, the painter, the story teller, the song writer, the potter in you. Let her reveal herself.
She may be awkward at first. But allow her to be vulnerable. Allow her to warm up. She will help you recover. She will make you stronger.
RP
