June was an ongoing if not exhausting extravaganza of family festivities.
Our Texas family and friends joined us for nearly two weeks of memorable celebration. The events commenced with Gabby’s pinning ceremony, a long-held tradition heavily influenced by Florence Nightengale, the famous nurse who earned the Red Cross of Saint George. Now nursing schools design their own pins representing knowledge, service, and dedication to patient care. During the ceremony, graduates are typically pinned by a faculty member or a person of significance. Gabby was pinned by my mom, her grandmother, who had practiced nursing for over fifty years. We took pictures and basked in the moment. But we could not linger long because we were soon whisked away to the next event of the evening.
We hardly had time for a bite to eat before lining up to attend Max’s High School graduation. Photos and hugs ensued and we went home with plans to meet the next morning at Gabby’s official nursing school graduation ceremony, along with Max’s graduation from Community College. We sat outside in the blazing sun and drank gallons of water as we celebrated hundreds of graduates who marched down the aisle and across the stage to receive their hard-earned diplomas.
Zeke’s graduation from physical therapy school was bright and early Sunday morning under another baking sun. We listened to Pomp and Circumstance one more time, paid attention to one more inspirational commencement speech, and cheered on the doctoral students who were sweating under black gowns waiting to be hooded.
And of course, we marked each milestone and each graduate with grand parties.
Then came the final push: last-minute preparations for Elena and Tosh’s rehearsal dinner, welcome party, wedding, and reception.
We made lists upon lists, prepped food for days, collected beverage containers and serving trays, hauled tables and chairs, washed silverware and glasses, ironed napkins and wedding clothes, arranged flowers and bouquets, built archways and tables, ran last minute errands, all the while texting back and forth to an ever-increasing chat group.
Finally, the wedding day was upon us, truly a family affair.
The marriage ceremony itself was lovely. The mountains stood tall in a bright blue sky while a cool breeze fluttered the beautiful bride’s long veil as the couple gazed into each other’s eyes exchanging vows and rings. At the reception, the toasts struck just the right balance of heart and humor. The food was delicious. The wine was refreshing. The dance floor was full of precious friends and family enjoying a perfect day celebrating the start of the couple’s new life together. And my heart was so full of joy it could have burst.
I drove to my sister’s house around 3 o’clock the next afternoon after a long day of clean-up and collapsed on her couch.
“Do you need to spend the night?” she asked, sensing my fatigue.
“No, I’m looking forward to sleeping in my own bed tonight,” I mumbled only partially coherent. Apparently, I needed a nap first.
I slept hard for thirty minutes, drank some left-over iced tea, and set off for the two plus hour road trip home.
Being home never felt better, the sanctuary of my porch swing, the quiet of my empty home, the dogs happy to see me. I thanked myself for having the foresight and giving myself permission to take the next day off work. I didn’t just need sleep. I needed rest and recovery.
Cleanup continued Monday, but the pace had finally softened. I washed one hundred seventy dishes one at a time, slowly, letting the quiet work make room for gratitude, reflection, and the first hints of renewed strength.
I washed a few dishes, dried a few, and put a few away. In between, I gave myself permission to pause—to sit with iced tea, pet the dog, water a flower, or simply stare at the walls.
The rest of the week followed that much-needed rhythm. I made simple, nutrient-dense meals, took gentle walks instead of pushing through hard workouts, and went to bed early.
Across cultures, people have long recognized the need for recovery by building rhythms of rest into the week, such as the Sabbath. “God knows we need rest, and one of the reasons He established the Sabbath was to give us rest,” Billy Graham famously remarked.
Rest has also become central to athletic performance. Sports science now treats recovery as an intentional, measurable process—one that directly supports progress rather than simply following it. Trainers preach a better balance of fitness and fatigue, teaching practices that help the body repair and grow stronger: giving muscles time to rebuild, reducing the risk of injury, supporting immune function, improving sleep, and restoring energy for the next effort. Today, athletes use tools such as cryotherapy, compression gear, mobility work, sleep tracking, and heart-rate variability to understand when the body is ready to go again.
“Rest is not idleness; it is a sacred time to recharge and revitalize our spirits.”
I think the same principle applies to my recent marathon of family celebrations. Four graduations and a wedding. That was a lot! Even when events are happy and deeply meaningful, we cannot stay on the mountaintop indefinitely. Our bodies and spirits still need time to recover, settle, and receive what just happened.
At OWW, we spend a lot of time working on lifestyle to improve health, and teaching about recovery will be the next addition.
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