128: Keep Going {Take Breaks}

Believe it or not, back in my earliest days, I was a dancer. I started with a tap-dance class when I was maybe three and worked my way up to beginner ballet. I loved wearing my tights and leotard, tutu and dainty ballet shoes. And I loved learning all I could each week in class.

I remember learning how to utilize the ballet bar. I remember learning how to place my feet and arms properly in all the basic positions. And I remember learning how to squat and bend, rise on my feet, point my toes, and even take little leaps here and there. For a five-year-old, I was making pretty good progress.

And then, the day came when our teacher showed us how to do a split. Looking back, I suppose it was less of a “how-to” and more of a “watch this.” A simple, fun demonstration meant to inspire us and show us what might be possible if we continued down the dancing path. At the time, though, I didn’t see it that way. I considered it a bar I had to meet, a move I needed to master, an example I was expected to follow right away if I had any promise or potential as a dancer.

And so, I remember sitting my little self on the studio floor with my fellow beginner ballerinas, trying with all my might to achieve a perfect split.  It went about as well as you’d expect for a five-year-old’s first try. My split ability was nowhere near my teacher’s. And even though the same was true for everyone in the class, I took it to heart. I was so disappointed and discouraged. In my tiny mind, I’d failed. And so, once the term was over, I quit.

Sometimes, I wish I’d kept going.

*******

It’s a low-stakes example, for sure. But it’s the first memory I have of what is typically true for me: when the going gets tough, I’ll see myself out. Fight or flight? I’m quick to spread my wings. At the first sign of challenge or discouragement, I’ll probably want to bail. Such is my nature. Maybe you can relate?

One of my growing edges, though, for most of my life and faith experience, has been reconciling that nature with what I feel is a pretty clear call and invitation—to persevere. To not give up. To keep going.

I think of verses in Scripture like

Galatians 6:9 - Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. {Fun fact: this one is currently posted on my bathroom mirror.}

Or

A few verses from the beginning of Hebrews 12 - Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith… Consider him…so that you may not grow weary in your souls or lose heart.

Or

James 1:2-4 - My brothers and sisters, whenever you face various trials, consider it all joy, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance complete its work, so that you may be complete and whole, lacking in nothing.

The list here could go on and on and on. So many verses, passages, letters, stories all pointing to this major theme of our faith. This major part of our lives. We know life can be hard. Faith can be challenging. The good work we’re called to can be difficult. And so over and over again, we are encouraged, exhorted, reminded to keep going.

It’s an important and needed reminder, for sure. And I’m learning that it doesn’t always look the same. How we keep going can look lots of different ways.

Sometimes to keep going means full-steam ahead. We feel energized and inspired and clear-eyed and capable. We might feel ready and empowered to take big leaps and try to new things. To keep going in this way is certainly a gift.

Then there are times when to keep going means steady and consistent. Our pace might vary some, but the routines and rhythms we’ve adopted and implemented serve us well. In these times, not giving up feels pretty regular, but it is no less significant.

And then, of course, there are the times when to keep going means barely limping along. Circumstances might leave us shaken to the core, and the call to keep going might feel impossible.

It is during these times that the brave decision to keep going might actually look like taking a break. Like opening ourselves to God’s kindness and compassion when we need it most, honoring our capacity, our limits, and the current reality of our lives. It might look like taking the time to take good care so that, eventually, with God’s help, we might be enabled to continue and take another step.

As author and therapist Aundi Kolber advises,

“Keep going, but take breaks.”

It might be easy to assume that the call to keep going and the need to take a break are at odds with one another. But I’m finding—more often than not—they actually go hand-in-hand.

In fact, I’m learning that taking a break is very much part of the process. Part of what it takes to keep going. And, just like there are plenty of references to perseverance, endurance, and not giving up, there are also plenty of verses in Scripture like

Matthew 11:28 - Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.

Or

Psalm 23:2-3 - He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul.

Or

The commandment from Exodus 20:8 - Remember the Sabbath Day and keep it holy.

We even see the need for breaks in Jesus’ life and ministry all throughout the gospels. His regular rhythm was one of both rest and work. After his baptism, he’d teach and heal and then withdraw. Teach and heal and then withdraw. Over and over and over again.

The need for a break is nothing to be ashamed of. It’s part of being a person. And I’ve come to believe that honoring that need and taking those breaks can actually be a form of wise, faithful stewardship as, slowly but surely, we keep going.

*******

Sometimes I think of my ballet teacher, the one who did that split. I didn’t understand it then, but I know it now: it took lots of time and practice and quiet commitment for her body to get to that point. That split didn’t happen overnight.

I can’t know for sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised if, in her resolve to keep going, to keep growing, to keep learning, to keep stretching and trying and moving as a dancer, my teacher experienced many small wins, lots of shed tears, leaps of joy, moments of doubt, and maybe some unexpected setbacks. Through it all, I like to think that she also took good care, honored her current ability and range of motion, and didn’t shy away from many necessary, restorative breaks.

Looking back, I think that might be the deeper lesson: How not to split. How to hang in there. How to keep going, even in the middle of it all.

Today, I wonder what it might look like for you to keep going. Whether you do so full-steam ahead, steady and consistent or barely limping along, remember to keep going {and also maybe take a break}. As you do, may you match the pace of the Spirit. May you trust that God is with you along the way. And, together, as we continue to become the people God calls and invites us to be, may we know and trust we never keep going alone.