Rest

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” Matthew 11:28-30 (The Message)

I keep hearing the same message over and over: Rest. Specifically, rest in the Lord. My first reaction is that, for the last year and half, that’s all I’ve been doing. More accurately, it’s all I’ve been able to do. But if I stop long enough to actually evaluate what I call rest, I learn that my rest is nothing like the rest God is drawing me into.

Journaling my transition from wife to widow has been therapeutic. Part of what redeeming our pain looks like is being able to gently squeeze someone else’s hand as a way to encourage, verbalize the pain, give shape to an authentic struggle, and reveal the heart of the Father. These are just a few of the ways that remind us that our pain was not in vain. It’s offering support in the beautiful, tragic, wonderful, broken, amazing, crazy life in the way that we experience it.

My definition of rest is being quiet. My quiet has been submission mixed with grief. Sometimes I’m quiet because I can’t find words that matter. Sometimes quiet means not arguing because I know nothing will bring my husband back. Other times, it’s not having the energy to care about the decisions that need to be made because … what difference does it make? What’s done is done.

Quiet. Silence. Just like the halls in my house.

Grief is heavy and bone saturating. It’s a place of having no direction, along with foggy-minded confusion and endless questions. What is my life supposed to look like now? What about my plans and dreams for the future? How does one make the transition from togetherness to singleness?

Expansive, endless questions and a landslide of thoughts keeps layering and layering until the avalanche overtakes my mind. Everything is going to change, and I have no power to stop it. Where do I go from here? What about my friends? Who can stay and who will naturally go? His name is being removed from everything. Do I have to participate?

One minute his larger-than-life personality was next to me. A split second later I’m battling an empty vortex that’s sucking the oxygen out of the rooms … and threatening to do the same to me.

It’s a raw, deep ache where only love can make a difference. But even our human expression is limited both in power and ability.  We need a love that draws us to be vulnerable. Love that doesn’t demand its way or come in like a muscle man breaking through with force. No, we need the love found in the sweet, gentle tenderness that is tangible. It’s the kindness of God, which soaks into the fractured places and holds the shattered, fragile pieces together.

His presence makes me feel protected because He asks no probing questions, makes no demands, and offers no judgment. When His presence envelopes me, the numbness and shock are absorbed. In His presence I feel seen, heard, and confident my pain matters to Him. That I matter to Him.

My definition of rest is incredibly limited and only equates to being quiet and still. And yes, God calls us into rest, but the difference is that I tend to spend my quiet time turning my pain and injustice over and over in my mind. When God calls us into His quiet, He is saying that He’ll meet us anywhere we are and in any condition.

God’s rest requires us to first rest from relying on our own efforts. True rest, the kind that heals, starts when we stop trying to find solutions in our own strength. We must acknowledge that we don’t have all the answers. We realize we need help.

In true rest we can be transparent about our pain. It’s a space where we can be ourselves even if it’s socially unacceptable. Even if it makes people uncomfortable. No matter our emotional condition, we must feel safe enough to let the pain and anger flow. But the purpose of allowing ourselves to be vulnerable is not so we may indulge in a tell-all session and remain unchanged afterwards.

Rest and peace precede healing, but we’ll be hard pressed to find our way if we never let our guard down. Our loved ones want to help—and they try—but nothing can transcend the boundaries of pain like the power of God’s love. He not only has the ability to heal us, He has the authority.

Resting in a solid, unchanging relationship, uncomplicated by the labels and demands of this life is a most precious slice of heaven here on earth.

Let God catch your tears and wipe them away. Let Him set you upright on the Rock. Allow Him to keep the world at bay while you allow yourself to be vulnerable, authentic, and truthful in your pain. He longs to hear your voice, heal your pain, and turn it into something beautiful.

Quiet time in our Father’s hands will give purpose to our pain, but—in the meantime—His heart is to give us rest and protection while we recover. The world will tell us that God helps those who help themselves, but God says He’ll help anyone who will invite Him.

NOW LIVE LOVED and THRIVE!

Self-Reflection

These questions are in no way a substitute for healthcare professionals or any level of professional counseling. I’m an advocate for taking care of oneself mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. These questions reflect my heart, NOT my profession.

This questionnaire is an opportunity to journal your thoughts and feelings. It can serve as a launching pad on which to evaluate your heart condition as you understand it. My hope is that you will take the truths you discover about yourself and hold them up to the Light to evaluate them against who God says you are.

• How have you been defining rest?
• How does God define rest?
• Do you need God’s rest? If so, in what area of your life do you need rest?
• What is one thing you can do to rest in the way that God says is restful?
• What is the biggest challenge when you’re trying to rest?
• What change(s) do you need to make that will result is a better quality of rest for you?

Talk to God about your answers. Give Him praise, ask Him questions and then listen for His gentle response.

Take Action

Use God’s word to take control over the traumas in your life.  Whenever you feel terrorized by your thoughts take them captive by replacing them with the truth of God’s promises in His word.

Here is a scripture for you to print, cut and carry with you and/or post in places where you will see it often. Ground yourself in God’s truths not Satan’s attacks. Encourage your heart and mind every time you are reminded of His great love for YOU!

Here is what God’s word says about His unfailing, relentless, unending love for you:  “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”—Matthew 11:28-30 (The Message)

When you read God’s word say to yourself: God knows I get burned out. He has rest for me. Rest that will help me not only survive but recover. It’s a ebb and flow of His grace for me. He invites me to walk with Him and to live freely and lightly because of who He is.