Resting in God

an exhortation

Photo by Aaron Burden

---

Sometimes the most efficient thing you can do is to rest.

That extra hour of sleep—that fifteen minute power nap—those five minutes you steal to chill and regroup—may make the difference between a productive afternoon and a disastrous one.

As a mother, I feel this is especially true. When I am exhausted, I have a short fuse and am prone to absentmindedness and downright stupidity.

It is also true that preaching about sleep to tired mothers is obnoxious. (To anyone reading this who doesn't actually have the option to get another hour of sleep or a fifteen-minute power nap, I sincerely apologize).

God is not efficient in the way that we try to be, with our restless striving after time management, space management, and people management.

He took four-hundred years, for instance, letting the world rest, between the Old and New Testaments, before the Christ Child came. And then He took another thirty before Christ's ministry began, and another three before the crucial moment of His life came.

(“Crucial” coming from the Latin “crux, crucis--” origin of “cross” and “crucifixion.”)

Resting in God makes us more spiritually efficient. Restless pursuit of service—even restless devotions (cramming in those 5 chapters so we can check 'em off the list)—can sometimes cause more anxiety than anything else.

I am not trying to encourage laziness or lack of discipline. I am saying, let us begin by disciplining ourselves to rest in God.

By resting in God, I don't mean watching cat videos on Youtube or endless Instagram scrolling. But I probably didn't need to say that.

I mean, coming into His presence. Disciplining our minds to be aware of Him. Accepting His acceptance of us.

We bring all our anxieties and sins and worries and failures and we get to set them down.

We rest in God by faith, knowing that we don't save ourselves with our own good works. We come to Him as spiritual beggars—impoverished—and we accept that He loves us anyway and that He laid His life down for our salvation.

One thing that struck me recently in my reading of the Gospels is Christ's eagerness to help people. People came to him in anguish, suffering from an illness or a disability, or worried over a child or a loved one, and he healed them and comforted them. He said things like, “daughter, go in peace” and “your sins are forgiven.”

More than once, He implored the people around Him—harassed and scattered, in crowds—lost and weary—to come to Him and find rest.

The requirement is that we come.

Our faith doesn't have to be the heroic kind; a mustard seed is enough.

The humble plea, “I believe; help my unbelief” was accepted by Christ, and He helped a man's unbelief by healing his child.

The One who had compassion on the suffering and sinful still has compassion on us today, in all our troubles.

The one who invited the lost and wandering to find rest in His presence still offers us rest today.

“He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge; His faithfulness shall be your shield and rampart” (Psalm 91:4)

.