How I manage (& don't manage) self-care

and what I actually really need help with

You are more precious than jewels. — Proverbs 31:10

I regularly practice and find pleasure in many self-care rituals: from time in the sauna to eating my body weight in grams of protein. I lift weights, prioritize health, and guard my sleep patterns carefully. I look at the morning sun, walk barefoot, and pluck organic vegetables and fruits from our vines.

But there is most certainly a point of saturation — when I cannot squeeze another journaling session, bubble bath, or glass of water into my day.

I get bloody sick of myself.

There is a point when all of my efforts and best-laid plans fail to fulfill what I’m actually seeking: help with my soul.

It’s not hard to see the bottomless pit of introspection and self-care at hand in our culture… a chasing of purity, wellness, peace, and physical beauty. Just drink this vitamin powder to be happy. Get a boob job to feel at peace with your aging body. Release your fascia daily to enjoy life to the fullest!

But there comes a point where it is an endless path of self-attention. Stuart likes the term “navel-gazing.”

But don’t we want to be physically beautiful? Don’t we want to be healthy? Don’t we want to be well rested, vital, and calm? Isn’t all of this good?

Being well-fed, well-hydrated, and well-rested is a wonderful feeling. But what will I do with that feeling, once I feel it?

Is all this effort for the sensation of self-congratulation at the end of my struggles? So others can see how CALM, RESTED, HYDRATED, BEAUTIFUL, and PEACEFUL I REALLY AM!!!!!

Sitting at a funeral this past weekend, alongside a friend preparing to bury his father (someone we never actually had the pleasure of knowing), I found myself weeping with joy at the sensation of community and people. Yes, other people. Other. People. Our friend Charlie looked out over the crowd to see chairs filled with friends coming for no other reason than to say we love you and are here for you.

Each of us could have easily filled our Saturday afternoon prioritizing ourselves. “But funerals make me feel sad…”

Instead, we prioritized each other.

Lest you take this in a “self-congratulatory” way, it was far from that. More like a knock-upside-the-head-you-dummy after a week spent with my head down, not responding to messages and calls from friends, because there was work to do. I have my own stuff, ya know.

The thing is, caring for ourselves is good and right. It is valuable and reviving. It is, in fact, essential if we are to be available to others.

Self-care is good when it is not being asked to fulfill something in our souls that was never made to fill. You are already made more precious than jewels.

After the funeral, I texted my friend Amber a version of: “I was pretty undone by the funeral yesterday. Whatever the question is, the gospel is the answer.”

After all, what is the gospel but care of the soul? An ultimate cleansing, an ultimate peace, and an ultimate rest. Where peace of soul can actually be found.

There isn’t a face cream, workout, or therapy session that so completely, so entirely, actually offers help to the self.

I was again reminded that when the answer isn’t found in me, the bottomless pit of self-care, self-attention, and introspection is no longer an endless journey to achieve some state of peace.

It is simply a way to care for ourselves throughout our journey. To show love to our bodies and our minds and our souls.

“Lift Thine Eyes” Norman Rockwell

Hugging Charlie tight after the funeral, he said simply, “Thanks for loving us enough to be here. Thank you for coming.”

His words were balm to my tear-stained cheeks and aching heart, reminding me of this belief I hold dear: To love others because of the gospel is the ultimate “self-help.” Loving others reminds me of not just who I am, but of who Christ is — the one who is actually good, true, and beautiful.

Love,