I will refresh the weary and satisfy the faint. Jer. 31:25
Dear heavenly Father, we’re like baby birds before you, with mouths wide open this morning. Come, feed us and nourish our hearts with the riches of your grace and the wonders of your love. Thankfully, we don’t have to pretend around you. We don’t have to feign strength or make excuses, buck up or honker down. When we’re feel a bit (or a bunch), weary or faint, you meet as a loving Father, not as a disgruntled coach. You meet us with the gospel, not with a scorecard; with a smile, not with a scowl; with encouragement, not disgruntlement. We praise and bless you.
So what makes us weary, Father? Where do we start? The demands and delights of relationships; wars and rumors of wars; too many guns in the hands of too many teenagers; cancer in our friends, and heartaches in our breasts; the normal process of bones aching, and the ill-timed moments of stuff breaking; pandemics in our world, and paying for the academics of our kids; Christians that can’t get along, and friends that simply move on; transitions in our vocations, and the long overdue need for a vacation.
Father, we so look forward to an eternity of no more pettiness or petulance; no more hard-heartedness or fragile-heartedness; no more hurt feelings or bullying egos; no more communicating in part or conflicting to win; no more passive aggressiveness or active indifference; no more innuendo or bravado, or anything else that hides the beauty of Jesus.
Indeed, Father, there’s no lasting refreshment apart from you. You still call to the weary and heavy laden to come to you for rest. Settle and center our hearts today with the good news—the fresh news of the gospel. Not for a month, or a week, but just for this one day, help us to rest in your love and share it with others. So very Amen we pray, in Jesus’ tender and holy name.