RELIEF vs. RESTORATION…and the Health of Your Soul

More food for thought regarding the health of your soul: I was wondering do you ever give the health of your soul much thought. The following is an excerpt from John Eldredge’s book, Get Your Life Back. It speaks for itself and I think the FATC FORUM is a perfect place to share it. I’d love to hear your reaction. Feel free to share your thoughts on the FORUM.

…I was strung out, deep in a vat of anger, frustration, self-indulging cynicism, and fatigue. A dangerous place to be. The next move would be rescue or the knockout punch. After a cold dinner I went out on the porch and just sat there. I knew I needed rescue, and I knew the nearest hope of that was the porch.

It was a beautiful Indian summer evening, the kind where the heat of the day has warmed the breezes, but you can also feel the cool from the mountains beginning to trickle down like refreshing streams. The crickets were going at it full bore, as they do when their season is about over, and the sunset was putting on a Western Art show. I could feel the rescue begin to enter my body and soul. Nature began its gentle work.

I let out a few deep sighs—“Spirit sighs,” as a friend calls them, meaning your spirit is breathing in the Spirit of God and you find yourself letting go of all the mess, letting go of everything. They weren’t cynical or defeated sighs; they were “letting it all go” sighs. My body relaxed which made me realize how tense I’d been all day. My heart started coming to the surface, as it often does when I can get away into nature and let beauty have its effect on me. Mind you—I didn’t get to the beach. I’m not canoeing some mountain lake. I’m simply sitting on the back porch. It doesn’t take much; rescue is always at hand. Warm summer evening, cool breeze, beautiful sky now turning that deep navy blue just before dark, crickets making their eternal melodies.

That’s when the carnival started.

A beer would make this a lot better, went the voice. Or maybe tequila. You oughta go find some cookies. Some agitated place in me started clamoring for relief. Even though the evening was washing over my soul, or maybe because it was allowing my soul to untangle, the carnival of desire started jockeying for my attention. I think there’s still some ice cream in the freezer.

It felt like two kingdoms were vying for my soul. The carnival was offering relief. Nature was offering restoration. They are leagues apart, my friends. Leagues apart. 

Relief is momentary; it’s checking out, numbing, sedating yourself. Television is relief. Eating a bag of cookies is relief. Tequila is relief. And let’s be honest—relief is what we reach for because it’s immediate and usually within our grasp. Most of us turn there, when what we really want is restoration.

Nature heals; nature restores. Think sitting on the beach watching the waves roll in at sunset and compare that to turning on the tube and vegging in front of Narcos or Fear the Walking Dead. The experiences could not be further apart. Remember how you feel sitting by a small brook, listening to its musical songs, and contrast that to an hour of HALO. Video games offer relief; nature offers restoration.

That is what David was trying to put words to when he reported finding God in green meadows and beside quiet waters, emerging with a refreshed soul. Or as another translation has it, “He renews my strength” (Psalm 23:3 NLT). The world we live in fries the soul on a daily basis, fries it with a vengeance (it feels vengeful). We need the immersion David spoke of.

So I stayed on the porch, choosing to ignore the chorus of vendors trying to get me to leave in search of some relief (Your favorite show is on; maybe what you want is wine…). I knew if I left all I would find was sugar or alcohol, and my soul would be no better for it. So I chose to let the evening continue to have its healing ministry. Remember—God doesn’t like to shout. His invitations are much more gentle.

Sunset was over; night was falling, and still I sat there. The evening itself was cool now, and an owl was hooting somewhere off in the distance. I could feel my soul settling down even more; the feeling was like unwrinkling or disentangling on a soul level, as your body does in a hot tub. Thank you for this gift of beauty, I said. I receive it into my soul.

Darkness, crickets, coolness, quiet. I felt like I’d been through detox. When I fell into bed that night, it was as if the hellish day had never happened. Restoration. So much better than mere relief.