Sunday morning. A day of rest? Right now, there is no such thing. I am committed on all fronts. Working all week, sitting at a desk, fighting fires and listening to problems and issues. And crunching numbers. Mentally, it’s exhausting. But I try to mix in a lot of smiles and humor. At work, they think my sense of humor is “sick”, or “dark”, and they are correct. Like the other day, I had listened to and solved about a hundred problems, the phone was ringing, the computer was slow, and I felt frustration creeping up my back. I asked one of the ladies to go down the hall and close the door at the end of the hall. I told her I was going to run as fast as I could down the hall and knock myself silly, because I would get fired if I shot Tequila. Seemed like a plan to me.
God’s rest is not like my idea of rest. Rest to me is mindless TV watching, or sitting outside staring at the sky. God’s rest is trusting Him that everything is going to be all right. There is an internal battle for God’s rest. How am I going to get it all done? How am I going to pay that bill, or find time to read or exercise? How am I……? But, the truth is stepping back and waiting. Get enough sleep, pray, and do what I can. God is able to do exceedingly abundantly above that which I ask or expect.
So I rest in the promise. Sure, I still work, I clean my house, I walk the dog, I pay the bills, I watch TV, I pray, I read. I keep moving forward. But when worry scratches at the door, with those chalkboard nails, I hum a tune. Or sometimes I sing out loud, or dance with the dog. I change the course of the thought. And I remember that God is good, all the time.
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