Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Matt. 11:28
Lord Jesus, thank you for the refreshment you’ve already poured into my heart the past couple of days. I came to the North Woods of Wisconsin, fun-dry as lightning-charred tree and cranky as nap-less two-year-old. I’ve been in denial about how much I’ve just flat-out missed being in the cathedral of your creation.
All work and no play doesn’t just make “Jack a dull boy.” It makes each of us a burnout waiting in the wings; an emotional time-bomb with a short-lit fuse; an attitude train-wreck fixing to happen Thank you for being generous with rest—in all shapes and sizes.
Jesus, grant my many praying-friends the need-shaped rest only you can give.
- Rest from thinking you’re disappointed with us, or have forgotten us.
- Rest—the unique rest of the Gospel, reminding us we’re totally forgiven and fully righteous in you—loved with a “muchness” that’s impossible to grasp.
- Rest generated by cat and power naps, and early-to-bed and late to get-up sleep.
- Rest from “should-ing” all over ourselves, and others.
- Rest generated by fishing even-without-catching, and eating a “guilty pleasure” without the guilt.
- Rest from nursing grudges more than drinking living water.
- Rest to be a Mary in a Martha world—your Bride, not our own.
Just as we are—not as we think we should be, we come to you Jesus. Thank you for your welcoming heart and promised rest. So very Amen we pray, in your tender and triumphant name.