Rest

The answer to almost every question I ask my kids these days is, “No.”  

“Are we going to have a fun day today?”

“No.”

“Are you ready for breakfast?”

“No.”

“Will you come here so I can help you get dressed?”

“No.”

The response to any statement I make towards my kids these days is, “No.”

“It’s time to get shoes on and get in the car.”

“No.”

“Please pick up your toys before dinner.”

“No.”

And my all-time favorite:  “It’s time to take a ‘night-night rest’ (AKA nap).”

“Nooooooooooooooooo!”

Just a minute ago, in the middle of typing this, I headed upstairs to Lilly’s room to reassure her that I had not lost my mind and yes, she really does need to take a rest.   Last week, I chuckled as I watched her on the monitor reconstruct her bed into a bouncing arena.  She took all of the stuffed animals (which had to be close to ten) and shoved them all to one corner of her crib.  I do not know how the child has any room with all those “friends,” but she insists on having them all close and tucked under her arm as she drifts off to sleep.  Or in this case, to be the soft padding of her landing as she ran across her crib and then jumped playfully into the middle of the pile of cherish “friends.”  She did this over and over again, and I couldn’t help but think of the Olympic pole vaulting I had watched the night before. 

Rest, in a physical sense, is something I welcome with two two-year-olds whose favorite word is “no.”  But when it comes to other areas of my life, resting is something I have a hard time doing.  You see, resting is just like waiting, and I don’t do it well.  Just last night, my husband (who does not struggle in this area the way that I do), shared with me the solution to all my troubles: 

“You gotta get out of the gerbil wheel.” 

“Huh?” I replied.

He explained, “You don’t let your mind rest.  You spin things around and around in your mind and so there is no rest, like a gerbil running constantly in an endless wheel.  You have to get out of the gerbil wheel.  Trust me,” he said, “life is so much better outside of the wheel.”

I hate it when he’s right.  Even more than that, I hate having to tell him he’s right.  But he is.  This all-heart girl married the most logical thinker out there, and I am constantly reminded that God picked him for me for that very reason.  When my emotions start to escape me, this tall, smart, six-foot-five voice of reason lifts up his super long arm and yanks them back down within my reach. 

The answer to almost every question I ask God these days is,“Wait.”  

His response to many of the statements I’ve been whispering in my heart these days is,“Rest.”

And just like my Lilly Grace, who also struggles with resting and waiting, I make up my mind that I’ll just get up and run in circles, bouncing here and there instead of doing what I’m told to do. 

Wait. Rest.

But maybe, just maybe God knows me better than I know me, and He knows it's good for me to rest.

During a particularly difficult season of waiting, one that seemed it would last an eternity, I discovered this beautiful poem.  It became a great comfort to me then, but it is exactly what I needed to hear today, all these years later.

Wait, by Russell Kelfer 

Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried;
Quietly, patiently, lovingly, God replied.
I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate . . .
And the Master so gently said, "Wait."

"Wait? you say wait?" my indignant reply.
"Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!
Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?
By faith I have asked, and I'm claiming your Word.

"My future and all to which I relate
Hangs in the balance, and you tell me to wait?
I'm needing a 'yes', a go-ahead sign,
Or even a 'no' to which I can resign.

"You promised, dear Lord, that if we believe,
We need but to ask, and we shall receive.
And Lord I've been asking, and this is my cry:
I'm weary of asking! I need a reply."

Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate,
As my Master replied again, "Wait."
So I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut,
And grumbled to God, "So, I'm waiting for what?"

He seemed then to kneel, and His eyes met with mine . . .
and He tenderly said, "I could give you a sign.
I could shake the heavens and darken the sun.
I could raise the dead and cause mountains to run.

"I could give all you seek and pleased you would be.
You'd have what you want, but you wouldn't know Me.
You'd not know the depth of my love for each saint.
You'd not know the power that I give to the faint.

"You'd not learn to see through clouds of despair;
You'd not learn to trust just by knowing I'm there.
You'd not know the joy of resting in Me
When darkness and silence are all you can see.

"You'd never experience the fullness of love
When the peace of My spirit descends like a dove.
You would know that I give, and I save, for a start,
But you'd not know the depth of the beat of My heart.

"The glow of my comfort late into the night,
The faith that I give when you walk without sight.
The depth that's beyond getting just what you ask
From an infinite God who makes what you have last.

"You'd never know, should your pain quickly flee,
What it means that My grace is sufficient for thee.
Yes, your dearest dreams overnight would come true,
But, oh, the loss, if you missed what I'm doing in you.

"So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see
That the greatest of gifts is to truly know me.
And though oft My answers seem terribly late,
My most precious answer of all is still . . . Wait."

The part that caught my attention as I read these words this morning was:

“You’d not know the joy of resting in Me when darkness and silence are all you can see.”

I know darkness.  I know joy.  It was in the middle of my darkest days that I discovered what true joy, complete joy, perfect joy really was. 

I know about waiting.  Even though it’s hard, I know it’s all part of His plan, and that it is such a beautiful thing.  It’s the resting part that I needed to be reminded of today.  Joy exists in those seasons of sorrow and grief, but also during the silent seasons.  The days when I feel like I should be hearing a different answer than the one I’m receiving.  Days like today.

Isaiah 30:15 says, “Your strength will come from settling down in complete dependence on me.”(MSG) In the same way that I remind my daughter to settle down and take her rest, this daughter of the King is getting a similar message.  How I respond is my choice.

As I kept reading in Isaiah, I landed here: 

So the Lord must wait for you to come to him so he can show you his love and compassion.
For the Lord is a faithful God.  Blessed are those who wait for his help.  Isaiah 30:18 (NLT)

I realized that while it may seem that I am waiting on Jesus, He’s the one who is waiting on me.  He’s waiting on me to sit down, settle down, and listen, so that He can teach me how to rest.  Then I will be ready and prepared when He says, "Go."

Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28 (NLT)

The word used for rest here is the Greek word, anapausis, which denotes a temporary rest or intermission, like a pause.  In Hebrews, we read of another kind of rest:

God himself is at rest. And at the end of the journey we'll surely rest with God.  Hebrews 4:10 (MSG)

This word, rest, is the Greek word, katapausis, which indicates a putting to rest, a final destination, a heavenly resting place.

If this life is a race and heaven is where I finish, then it makes sense to take a break and catch my breath along the way.  One of the Olympians shared the other night how he got ready to run his race.  He told of his plan to focus on his weaknesses instead of his strengths, and in doing so he improved his overall time.  Another runner shared how he got his mind ready for the race.  He told the reporter that he treats every race as a practice, so that he does not get caught up with anxiety. 

I am not good at resting.  I am not good at waiting.  If this life is a practice for what I will spend eternity doing- resting with God- then it makes sense that He would rehearse it with me while I’m giving it everything I’ve got, heading for that finish line.  When He asks me to wait and rest, He truly has my best in mind.  And when we do cross that finish line and enter into eternity, we will continue doing what He created us to do: praising Him forever.