“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Matt. 11:28
Lord Jesus, no one knows our weariness, “overwhelm-ment,” blank stare, and empty tank better than you. And you love us better than anyone when that’s our state of heart, mind, and body. Thank you.
You know we often choose remaining in denial over coming into the light, bucking up over getting low, “putting on lipstick” rather than being vulnerable, quoting verses rather than getting honest. You know the different ways we “should-on-ourselves.” “I shouldn’t feel this way.” “I should be better by now.” “I should give up and run away.”
To all of us—to each of us you say right now, “Come to me. I will give you rest. Come to me with your burdens—your backpacks filled with the shame of bad choices and haunting regrets… the heavy bricks of your self-righteousness and do-more-try-harder… the weight and wait of your children’s survival and salvation… the combined “tonnage” of your disillusionment with me, loneliness in life, and chronic pain(s). Bring it all, but come to me.”
Jesus, whether coming to you is collapsing on you right now where we are, without moving an inch; or calling friends to carry us to you (which is one of your favorite ways of welcoming us and our friends); or whether it’s us calling a friend for whom we sense this prayer captures their story… in any and every case, the rest you promise cannot be found anywhere else. Time alone won’t fix anything. Time plus your grace is the way forward. Jesus we come. So Very Amen.