Thursday, 01 April 2010 00:00
Wanderlust is in the air. I'm 16, newly graduated from high school, and looking to be anywhere but where I am. Where I am is a small state school in my hometown of Rapid City, South Dakota, pseudonym for "lamest place on earth." I'm talking about leaving and heading east or west or anywhere but here, and though I'm surrounded by interesting, inspired, achieving people, I'm too busy planning tomorrow to realize the wonder of today.
Rest.
I cannot sit still. Sometimes it feels like life is whirring past me at lightening speed. My toes seem frozen though, heavy by the weight of the responsibilities I carry: three sons, one husband, two mortgages, a small-business. I am always moving -- headed to do something or take care of someone. When I have a spare moment, I'm at the gym. I run as many miles as I can clock in the hour I allow myself before bundling up my sons and driving towards our next destination.
Rest.
My friends know that I'm not even worth calling until after 10 a.m. By then I've consumed two pots of coffee and am sane. Normally, around 4 p.m., if I haven't had another pot or two, a horrible headache consumes me. My nerves are shot, temper flares, I feel like I just need a break but the bills just arrived in the mail, I've missed four phone calls from clients, and dinner isn't going to make itself.
Rest.
I am an American in a fast-paced, keep-up-with-the-Joneses, dog-eat-dog type world. Not naturally organized, I struggle to balance family with friends, friends with work, work with hobbies, hobbies with faith. There are so many words to describe me. "Rested" does not.
There are many scriptures that have pulled my heart towards this idea of "rest." In the story of the Garden of Eden, after all is created and He has called it good, God declares a day for resting. Genesis 2:2-3 says, "On the seventh day God had finished His work of creation, so He rested from all his work. And God blessed the seventh day and declared it holy, because it was the day when He rested from all his work of creation." Later, when God speaks to His people from Mt. Sinai through ten commands inscribed into stone, He reiterates that out of every seven days, one should be put aside for rest (Exodus 20:2-17).
Then, on the brink of the creation of the early Church when regular people are being called into community with God and His new covenant, Jesus offers a refreshing invitation, "Come to me, all who are weary, and I will give you rest" (Matthew 11:28).
Ironically, this statement is followed by one that seems contradictory, "Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light" (Matthew 11:29-30).
How does one find rest in a yoke? My very understanding of a yoke is as a tool for doing heavy labor. How can I rest in the midst of my work?
Upon reflection, Jesus is not offering me a free pass from every enduring trouble, turmoil, tiredness, or work. Instead, He gives me the gift of partnership. He says that sometimes things will be difficult, but if I choose to be yoked to Him, He will be there to pull part of the load. When I choose to be yoked to Him, to enter into a friendship with Him as my Lord and Savior, He will make that load light.
As a college student I once wrote a creative story about a man who decided he would intentionally live life without sleeping aided by legal and illegal stimulants. His logic was that if he were to engage in work during the six to eight hours every night that the rest of his peers were sleeping he would surely win the promotion at work sooner, and have more time to spend with his girlfriend thus enriching that relationship. As the days ticked on, he found that while he has accomplished much and had many hours to do so, the quality of his work began to disintegrate. Where he once was a perfectionist he now found error. Where he once was a communicator he now was struggling to find the words. Where he once had been well-kept and healthy he now was tired, losing weight, and weak. Finally finding himself in a mental institution, the man realized that while he accomplished six weeks of work in the four weeks he went without resting, he had lost everything else that mattered including, as it would seem, himself.
My creative writing assignment may have been prophetic. I often push myself to the very bounds of exhaustion attempting to get it all done. I set my alarm earlier -- attempting to have more time and then feel like a failure when I hit the snooze button. I've become an caffeine junkie, relying on the drug to keep my wheels moving, even when they're slower and less productive than they could be. And yet, in the still depths of my soul I know the remedy to my weariness.
Rest.
I need to fully and deeply allow the life-giving love of Jesus to fill me as I close my eyes and settle in the knowledge that "My yoke is easy and my burden is light." When I choose to allow myself to be human, basking in the understanding of my own frailty and brokenness the weight is lifted. It is only when I attempt to wear the yoke alone, dragging one side along the ground as I walk, that I am weary. When I allow the promise Jesus gives me to carry me, when I allow myself to stop whatever I'm doing, close my eyes and accept the infinite help that He hands me, that is when I am given rest.
When Jesus asks me to take His yoke, it means not only asking for His help doing what I want to accomplish, but setting aside my own desires and priorities and asking what He has for me this day. Sometimes my exhaustion is not only a sign that I need to ask Him for help, but a divine indicator that I'm missing the important because of the urgent. I have to realize that my exhaustion can be an indicator that I'm accomplishing far more than the Lord wants me to in this season -- and to refocus my limited time and energy on the important tasks to which I've been called.
For me, rest isn't as much about taking a two hour nap, plunging into a bubbly hot bath, or pouring a cocktail. It's more about taking the few moments in between deep breaths to close my eyes and renew my soul. Taking the five minutes I find, here and there, to sit calmly and pray.
Rest.
