You’d think that would be good news, right? What does the God who made the Universe want from you? Rest. OK! Sign me up, right? Yet it’s been a huge challenge. I’ve avoided it far more than I’ve obeyed that gentle tug. Why?
On Sunday I realized again why it’s so hard. I decided to do ‘house church’. Literally. Just me and God at home. It started at 10 am. I played a worship CD which includes a song that repeats, “You give and take away, you give and take away, yet my heart will choose to say, ‘Blessed be your name’.” I had to play that song a couple times as I cried and yelled at the Lord. Somehow rest implies acceptance and part of me doesn’t want to accept my life. On the surface it’s great, right? I’ve got a career, a husband who loves me, a mutt with a great personality, plenty of money for our needs but not so much that it owns us, a great place to live, blah blah blah. But it’s not what I dreamt for myself. I don’t want to rest here. I want God to get a move on and move me toward my dreams. Rest = death in my head.
Yet after the emotional storm, I felt really happy and peaceful. I moved out to our little balcony and sat in a deck chair, feet up, facing the trees that line the back parking area. This is what I journaled as I sat there:
It’s so true, Lord. In order to rest in You I have to battle through, or at least feel through, this sea of emotions. Let that salt bath cover me so I can rise from its wet embrace to sit quiet on the shore. Until I wade into those waters, I run around on the boardwalk, window-shopping and playing games to grab a pretend rest and avoid myself. Exhausted at the end of the day by my efforts. This silence after the storm is thick with golden quiet and tender motion. I am embraced by peace and can finally hear the whispers of Your affection.
At the moment, I'm liking 'rest'.