Longing for Rest

I’m tired.

Life has been busy for some time. That’s nothing new. Between school, jobs, and ministry, my weeks stay pretty full. I enjoy my work, and I’m grateful for the Lord’s provision. I know the busyness isn’t necessarily a bad thing. But I’ve noticed myself feeling worn lately, looking for a break but not finding one.

But it’s not just busyness that’s been weighing on me. There’s a heaviness to life these days that I can’t quite escape. People I love are walking through great difficulties, times of fierce testing, and prolonged seasons of waiting. Weariness and discouragement affect many of us. We’re working to bear each other’s burdens, but we’re feeling pressed.

And personally, I’ve also been wrestling with more confusion and fear lately than I’m used to. As I’ve tried to discern the Lord’s leading and sought to obey him, I’ve found myself often faltering, often straying, and often feeling more out of step than surefooted. I want to be faithful, but I feel more faithless. I want to be strong, but I feel weak.

What do you do in such times? How do you respond when life seems heavier than normal?

I’m reminded of the words of Jesus:

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

Matthew 11:28-30

A few observations from this passage bring some comfort in this season.

First, rest is found in Jesus. I’m tempted to look to other sources for relief: to entertainment or to escape or to some new experience. But rest isn’t really found anywhere else but in Jesus, in knowing him and joining him in his work.

Second, we’re invited into rest. In spite of our sin, in spite of our doubt, and in spite of our weakness, Jesus loves us and offers us rest. He knows our state, knows our need, and brings relief.

Third, the road does not end here. There is a way forward, a way of good work and learning from the Lord himself. Thus, rest does not necessarily mean we cease to be active, but rather that we learn to follow the lead of the good shepherd (John 10:11). When I’m tempted to believe I’m stuck, that I don’t have anywhere to go, Jesus’s words remind me the path continues on with him.

Though I’m not good at it, I’m trying to learn to rest in Jesus. He is good. He is kind. He is faithful. So we can trust him in our weariness and find rest that satisfies our souls like nothing else.


Photo by Ibrahim Mushan on Unsplash

Still True

Fear sometimes settles on you like a fog. You feel it all around you, it’s presence chilling and uncomfortable. It obscures your sight, preventing you from seeing the way forward. You know the world around you still exists, that reality is bigger than what you can presently perceive. You know that the fog will eventually lift.

But sometimes it doesn’t.

Or, at least, it doesn’t lift as soon as you’d like. That’s when you start to panic and despair.

It sounds silly, but fear can make you suddenly less certain of what you know to be true. God’s love and his faithfulness, his mercy and his grace, his purposes in discipline and the profit in the testing of our faith—suddenly, these subjects seem strangely foreign. You know the Scriptures. You’ve sung the songs, heard the sermons, read the books. But in the middle of the fog, as fear clouds your ability to think clearly, truth doesn’t appear to come to your mind or heart as quickly or as easily as it once did.

And yet, even when fear feels pervasive and overwhelming, what is true is still true. Though our perceptions may make recognition of truth more difficult, reality has not fundamentally changed. God is still on his throne. The light still shines in the darkness and the darkness still has not overcome it. The Lord’s love remains undiminished, his purposes unhindered. If God really causes all things to work together for good, then he’s still working, even in the fiercest seasons of fear. In spite of how we may feel, he has neither forgotten nor forsaken his children.

It isn’t easy to hold on to truth in the midst of fear. Thankfully, the Lord remains a firm foundation for feeble souls. Fear can reveal our weakness; his power is still made perfect in weakness. So we trust in him though we don’t feel okay, hope in him though things seem hopeless, and keep following him though we don’t know the way. And as we do these things, we will find him faithful, as he has always been and always will be.


Photo by Jakub Kriz on Unsplash

Reflections on Work and Rest

This is the second year I’ve taken the month of January off from posting to the blog. For the last few years, I’ve tried to maintain a consistent schedule for posts: a new essay each Monday and a new poem each Friday. This keeps me in the rhythm of writing each week, the deadlines acting as accountability to sit and reflect. I’ve grown much over the years as I’ve taken time away from my other responsibilities each week to simply write about what God seems to be doing in and around me. In this way, writing is a sort of rest, a break from the weekly routine to think and to feel a bit more deeply about the present journey.

But I’ve noticed that an annual break helps to refresh my mind and heart for a new year of writing. At times, the writing that often promises rest becomes a burden, just one more responsibility to complete before the week is over. So I decided to start taking some time off on occasion. I still write during my month off (mostly poetry, rarely prose), but I do so not for a deadline but simply for the joy of writing. I reflect a bit more freely, knowing I have time to polish a piece before the words will be seen (if they ever make a public appearance). I don’t keep a schedule for writing or work too hard to finish anything. I write when I have time and when I feel so inclined, and I don’t worry if I go a few days without putting words on paper. In this way, not writing is a sort of rest.

This approach to writing somewhat parallels my current relationship with work and with rest in general. Each week, I work to manage a number of responsibilities. Each week brings new lessons to prepare, new readings to complete, new assignments to grade. I used to approach every day as an opportunity to get work done, to strive for progress in the tasks set before me. But after a year or two of this approach, I learned the importance of rest, of trusting in the Lord more than I trust in my own abilities. I started taking a day off of school and work, practicing Sabbath rest, and I noticed my life change for the better. I felt more rested and less stressed, and I found I was more productive than I’d been in a life of nonstop effort.

In recent months, however, I’ve noticed my times of rest growing stale. As I’ve reflected, I’ve come to see that I haven’t been resting in the Lord as much as I’ve been simply stopping from effort and turning my mind and heart off for the day. I may have enjoyed spending days off in front of a tv, but I started to recognize that doing so left me feeling still drained. True, I wasn’t working, but I wasn’t really resting in the Lord either; I just wasn’t doing anything.

I’m trying to learn how to rest, and I’m finding that it’s not as simple as merely ceasing from weekly activities. Rather, true rest is found in turning my mind and heart to the one who sustains me, the one whose power is made perfect in weakness. I feel more rested after an afternoon of reading Scripture or books about the Lord than I do after an afternoon of video games or tv shows. I find more peace in a few hours of creative writing and reflection on the Lord’s work than in a few hours of inactivity. I get away and seek the Lord in solitude, finding comfort with him there. I still enjoy entertainment and fellowship and breaks from activity, but I’m learning to make those things peripheral rather than primary on my days of rest. And I’m making these choices not to seek some self-righteous status but because I’m coming to see more and more how much my life and well-being depend on the Lord.

I’m not good at resting yet, but I think I’m growing, and I’m praying for grace to rest well and to work hard, keeping both in their proper place. The Lord is good and faithful, and he’s given me sweet seasons of rest as well as strength sufficient for the work. As I learn to trust him more and more for these things, I pray that I’d be faithful to him in all of it, that he would be pleased.


Photo by Sincerely Media on Unsplash

You call me to surrender

You call me to surrender,
to lay down the desires of my heart
willingly.
I would rather you take them from me,
for then my part would only be
to accept what I cannot change.
To give me a choice—
that is a difficult test.
But let me be found faithful.
Help me to trade treasure
for greater treasure,
the fleeting for the lasting,
to sit through the eclipse
by faith.
None who wait for you shall be put to shame.

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Waiting

The psalmist waited patiently for you
And then bore witness to your care and grace.
Relief followed the waiting like the dew
After a night when darkness hid your face.
Though you are never absent, we may not
Detect you in the time before the dawn.
Your promises—oft doubted, oft forgot—
Prove true, a hope long hidden, never gone.
But patience is required, for though the end
Is certain, yet it does not come too soon.
You use the time we wait to break and mend.
In silence, we learn how to sing in tune.
So hope, though time be now a source of strain.
Our waiting on the Lord is not in vain.


Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

A Prayer During a Pandemic

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Death’s shadow looms o’er us, but we fear not,
For with us walks the life, the light, of men,
Sov’reign o’er ev’ry plague, problem, and plot,
Perfect in power, faithful yet again.
You have been with us, will be with us still,
Though days be long and lonely in the land.
We feel the curse. So many are so ill.
God, this is not the future we had planned.
But you are e’er at work, and so we wait.
And we believe (but help our unbelief).
Let faith grow more than worry for our fate.
Let worship be our joy and our relief.
O Lord, you give. O Lord, you take away.
O let your name be blessed by us this day.


Photo by Chris Henry on Unsplash

Faithful

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Grant me the strength to do what honors you,
And let me ever be
A testament to what your grace can do.

Let ev’ry word I speak be pure and true
So others hear and see
My what, why, when, and how point to a who.

Shape the affections of this heart made new
And make them more like he
Who gave his life to rescue and renew.

God, teach my mind to never misconstrue
What you require of me,
To count the cost and see the journey through.

And let me be found faithful to the two-
Fold sum of your decree,
That love might be my story’s overview.


Photo by Eskil Helgesen on Unsplash

Let Me Be Found Faithful

Let me be found faithful
In the task at hand,
Working so to never earn
A word of reprimand.

Let me always listen
To the Master’s voice,
Never speaking ill of him,
But learning to rejoice.

Let me walk in wisdom
Each and every day,
Knowing that apart from Christ
There is no other way.

Let me know my limits,
My true state to see,
Resting in the love of God
In sweet humility.

Let me walk in freedom,
Nevermore to sin,
Following my Savior till
I die to live again.