“Come to me, and I will give you rest.”
Some of us grow up unchallenged; enjoying certain privileges that result in delaying the command to come and receive rest until some other day.
Money, health, and a sense of belonging to your people are all wonderful gifts that are not to be despised. At the same time, those luxuries can establish a profound distance between the Man of Sorrows and those who enjoy our comforts. However, given enough time, the winds of life beat on the ship long enough and hard enough. We all eventually find ourselves saying, "My God, I need more than a break. I need whatever it is that the Messiah has to offer."
A death. A broken relationship. A grief as big as the ocean itself. It's in the hospital room at 2:00AM or on the living room couch with your face in your hands. It's in the therapist's office that you never dreamt you'd find yourself. The moment comes for us, and we suddenly find out just how tired our souls really are.
And yet, the moment doesn't have to be as dramatic as death and grief. It is also one that sneaks up in the humdrum of life. Perhaps you've caught yourself staring out the window for no particular reason. When you come to yourself, you wonder just how long you've been gazing at the Douglas Fir. It is then that you realize that the staring was initiated by a memory—something this out of place. Someone special is missing.
When those moments come for us, and they most certainly do, the gap is closed, the playing field is leveled, and we all rich and poor alike find ourselves in tremendous need. Deep down in our squirming souls, we're frustrated, anxious, and exhausted. Going from headline to headline, meeting to meeting, worry to worry leads to a low-level rage or sadness that’s just always with us. Then, when the light hits just right, those words of Jesus come through shining, sparkling, almost twinkling like a Christmas tree–"Come to me." Those words of the Holy Stranger are suddenly the words of your Closest Friend.
The call is not:
go to a church service;
listen to another song;
read another book;
attend another conference; or
talk to another person.
The Son of God says to each of us, "Come to me." While we'd rather dillydally around with theology, songs, and endless religious activity, the only thing Jesus insists on is coming straight to him. No pretense. No pretending. No posturing.
To come boldly before the throne of grace takes real faith, real courage, and real vulnerability. More than that, it takes resolve to cling to what Scripture says about how God feels about you and all that he's done to make things right between you and Him. Once you're there, in the Presence, he will not give you a job assignment, a lecture about how screwed up you are, or a snake. He will give your soul the rest it has needed all along.
Amen.