“Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30
Lately it’s felt like too much. Life has felt like too much. Not one thing too heavy in itself, but the sum of many things too heavy. Things that I cannot escape, like septic problems turned worse; constant physics deadlines; my child’s fitful sleep; my child choking on a graham cracker—the longest 10 seconds of my life; duties, like making dinner every night. A mundane tailspin that never winds down.
His words have been replaying in my mind. Come to me, weary one. I will give you rest. And I think, how? How can you give me rest, Lord? You can’t make my toilet work overnight or cause this class to be over right now. You can’t just take all my troubles away. So how can you give me rest?
Evidently my version of rest means zero struggle, escape. I want so badly just to escape. For the responsibility, hustle, and to-do list to pause. For 24 hours of complete nothingness. This will give rest to my weary soul, sayeth myself.
It seems I can handle a lot, handle pressure and stress while maintaining composure. But only for a time, until things start to sink and slip, hands too full and arms too heavy. My fuse becomes short and anger surfaces. I start to feel wild and broken.
And this is when I turn inward, silent. There is nothing on my lips, not even a prayer. I become parched and mute. The words “Help, Lord,” can barely be mustered.
Come to Me… in Me you will find rest for your weary soul. Why is such a tender and promising invitation so hard for me to come by? I’m too focused on how He will give me rest, what it will look like, what it even means.
I’m learning that I have to simplify things: instead of dwelling on the rest, I’ve pared it down to come, because that’s about as far as I can go without my brain and emotions and analytical self getting in the way. I can come to Him. I can whisper the word help. I can offer my burdens to His listening ear, lay them at His feet. My part is to simply come; He will take care of the rest.