Know Rest for the Weary

“Never wake a sleeping bear!” says Aunt Margaret. “Or Aunt Grace!” pipes in then two-year old Zippy, wise beyond her years.

I am not a morning person. I’ve often joked that the answer to “When does human life begin?” is “Sometime after ten a.m. and at least two cups of coffee.” One Halloween, I dressed up as the scariest thing I could think of: Decaf.  And when asked what I might be tempted to love more than God, my answer comes a little too easily: sleep.

But I was taken aback one morning when I arose voluntarily a little before 5:00 a.m.. I had to turn on the coffee because I had planned to sleep in. But I turned it on, showered while it brewed, and was proudly ready to begin my prayer time at by 5:30—still a.m.

Only to open to this:

“In vain is your earlier rising, your going later to rest, you who toil for the bread you eat; when he pours gifts on his beloved while they slumber.”—Psalm 127:2

I’ve said it before that if you make a space for God to show up, you will hear His voice. Have I mentioned how often He is laughing?

In today’s Gospel, Jesus says: “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. 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.”

I will be honest—while these words can sound comforting, there were times in the past when I thought them also a bit of a joke—the not-so-funny kind. What part of “take up your cross daily” is restful? Or “be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect?” Or “go into the whole world and proclaim the Gospel to every creature?” Saint resumes are rarely short.

Yet over the years I’ve come to see what I could not earlier: the yoke is the rest. To allow ourselves to be yoked to Jesus—to labor only with Him and for Him—is the ultimate rest. What does this mean?

In the bible, we first hear of rest on the seventh day of creation when God rests. And God calls His people also to rest, a rest that is not merely physical, but a call to relationship. God rests on the seventh day, and asks us to do likewise, to make a space for celebrating and deepening our relationship with Him, apart from our daily work.

As Christians, we don’t celebrate the Sabbath on the final day of the week. We transfer it to Sunday, the Lord’s day, the first day of the week. It is not a day of reward or recovery from the workweek, but a starting point for all that we do.

In college I was challenged to put this into practice radically by avoiding even all schoolwork on Sunday—even if I had a test or term paper due. One professor told us how when he began this practice his grades went up—and surprisingly, mine did as well. But more importantly, my joy also increased. I found the shape of my life as a whole, not just Sundays, subtly changing.

It was years later that I made a related decision, that looking back I see now was the single best decision of my entire life. I decided to set aside a designated time for prayer—not just to say my prayers every day, but to sit in prayer for a specific length of time, every day, no matter what. I had heard in college of people doing such things and finding it life-changing, but I admit I thought it was pious nonsense, and at best, impractical.

I have found that giving this time to Jesus has been richly rewarding. And, in spite of “giving away” a specific amount of time each day—even on the busiest days—I do find myself with more rest. How is this?

On the most practical level, when we give to Jesus He gives us back even more generously. He rewards my sacrifice of time with help in using my other time more wisely. Things will often work out or get resolved in surprising ways without additional effort on my part.

But even on days that doesn’t seem to be the case—when more work comes, when things go wrong, when my time is interrupted or seemingly wasted, and my To Do list only lengthens—I find a peace that comes from being yoked to Jesus. One of the interesting things about a yoke is that it is also fitted uniquely to us, by someone who knows our strengths weaknesses and circumstances. His strength provides for mine and also supplies what is lacking, and I learn from Him how to bear a yoke.

If I am known for my love of coffee and sleep, I am also known for making lists— especially To Do lists. As I learn more about the yoke of Jesus, I learn that the best thing I can do is to surrender my To Do list to Him.

I am to do what Jesus asks, but ONLY what HE asks. When I hand over my To Do list, I am often surprised by what He adds, but also what He removes. He did not set His own tasks; He does nothing on His own, but “only what He sees the Father in Heaven doing.” (John 5:19) At times, He does not want me to do more work, but to rest and to receive.

Too often we yoke ourselves to what I call the Idols of Ought: the idol of who I ought to be, what my life ought to look like, what I ought to accomplish or have accomplished by now. These idols quickly enslave us, setting before us tasks that God never intended for the sake of proving ourselves—to others, to the world, even to ourselves.

With the eyes of Jesus, I look differently at any mountains in front of me, and I know now to ask first how to face them. Some mountains are to be moved, some climbed, some are to have a tunnel drilled through, some are to be avoided; some are merely optical illusions. Sometimes, He calls me to a complete change of direction. Looking with His eyes I can better discern what God is asking me to do and as important, what He is NOT asking me to do.

Most important of all, I am able to entrust to Him not only the tasks on my list but the concerns of my heart. So often I am burdened by concern for others—for their pain, their crosses, their problems that I am powerless to fix. In His presence I am reminded that He loves them more than I do. And, that while I am powerless, He is not. Thus the only place I need carry these burdens is to the cross, where He “makes all things new.”

 

 

 

 

Featured image: Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash