I breathe. Most of the time, anyway

In my last essay I wrote: I will rest my heart throughout the day and let him engulf me in his nearness. If you're anything like me--a homeschooling mom with too much to do--you're probably thinking, "But how am I supposed to remember to rest in him? Hindsight is 20/20."

So how do we remember to rest in The God of Stillness in the midst of daily chaos? Maybe you are the picture of serenity and always aware of your actions, but I am not. Often I notice much too late that my foot is in my mouth, that I've put on a layer of self between me and my husband or children, or that I'm caught up in my own plans instead of waiting on God. What to do?

We must train ourselves so that we know what resting feels like, and we must find a way to remind ourselves to rest in him. We need to set an alarm.

What alarm?

Do you breathe? I do, pretty regularly I might add. Do you ever notice yourself breathing? Probably not. Our breathing, though, can be a sort of alarm clock. What if you told yourself each and every morning that "When I *do* notice myself breathing today, I will remember that he is near so I can rest in him." Could that work?

I have a challenge for you: Tomorrow morning right after you get up, practice centering prayer for five minutes. Purposefully center yourself, remain quiet, and begin training yourself to know what rest feels like. At the end of your five minutes, ask God to remind you to notice your own breathing during the day. Later on when you're in the middle of _______ and you notice that you're breathing, call to mind what rest and stillness felt like during centering prayer time.

This is an effective way to learn to carry the stillness with you.