Thank you God for rest.
While I love a Sunday afternoon nap and the physical jumpstart it gives me for a new week, today rest came to my weary soul instead of my weary body.
I breathed an exasperated sigh directed at me as I slipped into the pew just as the call to worship began. “I should have gotten out the door sooner.” “If I’d gone to bed earlier, I wouldn’t have been scrambling this morning. “ You heard my self talk and interrupted it with singing—strong, low voices, 50 or 60 men in the choir loft, all in suits proclaiming “I’m Bound for the Promised Land” and it sounded like heaven. I scanned the sanctuary. The sun was streaming through the ornate stained glass windows and in the gigantic arrangements of roses, the colors of fall, I glimpsed your blindingly, beautiful glory. We sang about your faithfulness and spoke liturgical words about your goodness and mercy that endures forever. And somehow the tile floor beneath me became holy ground. And in that holy space, with those broken people– just like me- that you’ve made holy through the blood of Christ, I found rest—rest from the fears and anxieties, the disappointments and distractions. In that holy moment, you gently whispered words reminding me that you are my Shepherd and I shall not want (Psalm 23:1), that you gather your lambs in your arms and carry them close to you heart (Isaiah 40:11). And with that assurance, I was able to lie down in green pastures, be led by quiet waters and my soul was restored.

Thank you God for rest.