My pastor has been preaching a series on the subject of rest. Naturally the topic seems to be a permission for folk to embrace the kind of easy living the Summer season brings. But I don’t know what to make of the topic because I’ve always embraced easy living at all seasons. Friends are wont to encourage me with words like, “You’re such a Mary” because unlike many of them, I’ve always been more at home standing on the sidelines looking on as their lives brimmed over with activity.

I had a friend visit a couple of days ago and after not being able to reach an agreeable consensus on whether we should order Mexican or Indian, we decided to cook. As a dutiful host I took on the bulk of putting the meal together and tasked her with the harmless chore of stirring the batter. I looked on as she stirred a milky concoction that was getting lumpier with each rotation and so deciding I was not having lumpy mac-and-cheese for dinner, I carefully steered the ladle out of her hand and started moving it in the right direction. When she teased me on how type A I was acting, I retorted with a quick “No you’re type A!”. Because she is in fact, type A.

My friend is one to keep a planner and journal faithfully and stick to a budget and go to bed at 10 to wake up at 6. On the contrary, most of my undergraduate career was spent in an Art studio hauling fresh oil paint straight from their tubs onto canvas because I didn’t have the patience to draw lines and then be expected to fill in those lines steadily with a brush. We’re different.

Maybe I’ve changed, or maybe the rhythm of working a 9-to-5 job is finding my hands steadier, but these days the impatience that used to masquerade itself in ‘bohemian abandon’ is coming out in more appealing ways. I’ve suddenly taken to scheduling meticulously and planning everything from time spent answering emails to what hairband I’ll wear on what day of the week. Living life with more intentionality is nothing to scoff at, however for me, this level of micromanagement reveals a restless heart. I don’t want to fumble through life and somehow I’ve convinced myself that seeing into the details will protect me from misfortune. That’s a lie-- I know, but it’s forcing me to reckon with the fact that I, like everybody living under the sun, very much needs to strive to enter God’s rest.

At the Root of My Restlessness

In examining my own heart I’ve found that my restlessness belies my unbelief. Yes, I know that God is sovereign over the minutest details of my life. And as such, I earnestly pray for the rain to stop and the baby wailing in the seat next to me on the train to shush and for my skin to clear up. I have a lot of faith in those prayers. I have a harder time throwing up my hands in surrender about other matters concerning my sanctification.This unbelief is a distrust in God’s ability to be a sovereign Lord who’s also tender and sympathetic. I know that His primary goal is my sanctification, and while I have the firm assurance that He’ll present me faultless before the joy of His glory, I don’t know what the preening process leading up to that day will look like. I bite my nails in anxiety as I think about the fact that some have lost their heads in the process.

Learning to Value the Infinitely Valuable

God is revealing to me that my rest is found in my ability to see Him as infinitely worthy. When I know that I have all because I have Him, I won’t be driven to lose my peace chasing after other things-- be it a job or friends or people’s approval or even life itself. My rest is not only found in knowing that He’ll do what He says He will, it’s also found in knowing that He’s enough. That should He choose to take away everything in order to give what’s infinitely more valuable, Himself, I’ll be good (typing these words make my fingers tremble). Yes He’s a sovereign Lord who’ll accomplish what He’s purposed in me, but He’s also a tender and merciful Father who’ll not deal me more than I can bear.

Worshiping As A Way to Find Rest

I don’t know what tiredness looks like for you, but for me on most days it looks like disinterest and apathy. When I’m feeling burdened with my own problems-- and often that sense of burden eludes me, I can’t feel for anyone or anything. Usually what jolts me out of this stupor is time spent with God in praise and worship.When I lift up my heart through songs of worship, the Holy Spirit recenters my heart on God and aligns my head with my heart to feel what I know-- that He’s God.This is not a prescription on how you should go about unburdening your own heart, but I can confidently say that the process will include identifying what restlessness looks like for you, and clamoring against it by spending time with God. A life of rest is after-all, a life spent in constant communion with Him.