Rest

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

Matthew 11:28-30

What a foreign concept. That memory verse, coupled with a comment a College Heights pastor made about our faulty assumption that the life of sin, or at least the life of someone unconcerned with Jesus who makes okay choices, is easy and full of pleasure have hit me like a two by four. For some reason, we - or I - have this idea (contrary to Scripture) that our - my - lives would be so much easier if we choice to live according to some other mandate or philosophy.

I think that we forgot, although Jesus promised us trouble and hardship, that life without Him is devoid of the transcending peace that He promised, is without the certainty and hope that He is ordaining the future and eventually going to make things right, and subscribes to the shaky and unfulfilling philosophy of the day. But it is not inherently restful or happy or easy.

Maybe this idea of rest has been rolling around in my spirit for a while. Maybe it's the collection of books that I have been reading, most recently Present Over Perfect (Shauna Niequist) and All Fall Down (Jennifer Weiner). Anyway, I am struck by the total lack of rest in my life and the lives around me - even the lives promoted as fulfilling and successful by our society. Everyone seems to be running on empty, while trying to sustain the illusion that they are filled to capacity with energy, ideas, and perfection - both within the church and outside the church?

This year, I have committed to reading through the Bible and memorizing a new verse each week. As I have grown in this discipline, I have been overwhelmed by the clarity with which I see issues and the world. It isn't the rule of the day by any means, but I have noticed the fog lifting. I can see where I am messing up on some fundamental things, including rest. 

This week's verse is Matthew 11:28-30, and I just feel like I need to respond to it. Scripture is alive and it is piercing, and this week's verse feels especially so.

Why am I so flippant about this promise that Jesus made? Why am I so quick to trade it for efficiency, for more, for constant going and doing? I can imagine the compassion of Jesus as He looks at the obsessive rat race my life sometimes seems to be morphing into and says:

"Natasha. Come to me. Not to your pleasures, not to your hobbies, not to what you think will satisfy you. Don't go to your couch or your bed or your friends. To me. Lay your exhaustion, your frustration, your anxieties, your need to prove yourself at my feet. Come to me, because I don't expect you to have it all together, to do it all, to sacrifice yourself for what seems to need to be done. Your vision and ideas of how things work need re-shaping. Come learn from me. I am not measuring you, not waiting to be disappointed by you, not relying on your power. Come and give all that up to find rest for your weary soul. It'll be far better than checking off any to-do list, far more satisfying than a job well done. It'll be more fulfilling than you can possibly imagine."

And I try and I try. But every day the perfectionist, the strategist, the planner, the giver-upper in me fights it. I run ahead, trying to impress and do things my own way. 

Will I ever learn? Why is this four letter word, this beautiful promise so elusive? Why is it so counter-cultural, even within the church? Why do I cling to this illusion that if all my ducks are in a row in my own power it will mean satisfaction and contentment? Shouldn't rest be the hallmark of Christianity? Shouldn't our refusal to participate in a society that overwhelms and obsesses and schedules to the nano-second be part of what invites people? 

I can't answer any of those questions or frustrations. I guess in my own power, it would be impossible. But as I commit this verse to my heart and to my mind, I can only pray that it will come to me on days when I find it particularly impossible to find rest. I pray that I find people who can do this well and learn from them. Fortunately, I believe in a good, good Father and an interceding Holy Spirit who will remind me of these things. Fortunately, Jesus promised to teach me this in that verse. He invites me into this rest. As much as I long to wallow in the failures and the why-don't-we's, I think that invitation is a much better place to be.

I Could've Been Caught in That Fire, But Now the Fire's Inside Me

It's dramatic, but a lyric near that played at church today and really struck me. So I am stealing it to title the first blog post in a looonnnggg time. I am not sure anyone will even read this! I have been writing, but it is so hard to edit things that are recognizable out of stories, so they've been staying safe in my notebook.

Today was different. Today I needed to publish, if for no other reason than the ability to look back on this exact web page in five, ten, fifteen years.


I knew this year would be difficult. As soon as I got my class list, I started praying over my students intensely - especially one or two. As I page through my journal entries, I am struck by things like:

"Last week I commented to Sarah that I thought my emotions were broken. Tonight... it occurred to me that I have been operating in survival mode. There's so much in my students' lives that I can't fix." (from an entry dated 12/6)

"I've spent a lot of time dreading 26. I even joked I was skipping my birthday this year. I think it's because my life is so different than what I imagined/expected it would be like - single, childless, working 2 jobs, thoroughly obsessed with my dog. But today I made I joke that I was re-doing 25 and it hit me. 25 was a hard year. I have struggled mightily with so much this year - relationships, boundaries, career challenges, restlessness. There have been incredible highs - deaning Middler for the first time - but some pretty steep valleys as well...It was a hard, hard year. But it was also a growing year. In the midst of hurt and pain - those times of total shatter - God is willing and able to make something abundantly more beautiful, joyful, and life-filled." (from an entry dated 12/22)

"It's been a month of challenge and seeing all the places I need to surrender to Jesus, but it's also been an incredible month of journeying to and pursuing the God that is everlasting and restores all things. I see his faithfulness in everything, especially his timing." (from an entry dated 1/18).

"But this year, as I read over these passages (Luke 22:39-46 and Hebrews 4:14-16) in preparation for Easter, I find myself feeling, so keenly, the words. I can imagine the anguish. Although I (obviously) have never faced anything remotely similar to what Jesus was facing, I have felt the pangs of praying earnestly, longing for God to show up, waiting desperately for a sign, and being bitterly disappointed to only find silence... I need that great High Priest. One who understands and sympathizes rather than constantly measuring and finding me wanting. I need that Savior. I need Him on days when my temper is short. I need Him on days when my finances run dry. I need Him on days when I wonder when my life will "start." I need Him as I face uncertainty after uncertainty when all that is sure in this world is sin and pain." (an entry dated 4/7).

So there's your frame of reference for the past few months. Honestly, I feel like I am constantly reflecting on God's faithfulness (in my thoughts, in previous entries on this blog, etc). As May starts to come into view, I can't help but rejoice in that faithfulness. As hard as this year has been - for a variety of reasons - it could have been so much worse without God, without His preparation.

I came across a quote in my devotions that read "Mountain tops inspire us, but valleys mature us." I have had mountain tops this year, but oh how the valleys have changed me!

I think about how a very uncomfortable situation last summer led me to seek counseling from a local pastor. He recommended a book that changed my life! (Boundaries: When to Say Yes, How to Say No to Take Control of Your Life - Henry Cloud) It enabled me to see better boundaries in that particular situation and radically grew my ability to see and implement healthy boundaries across the board: in relationships, in work-related responsibilities, in finances.

That situation taught me that responsibility is not putting up with all difficulties in the interest of preserving peace or relationship or a short time frame. Responsibility is being wise about what you say yes to.

As uncomfortable as last summer was, it was invaluable in preparing me - or helping me - to seek the right preparation for this year.

As I've learned to say no and set boundaries at work, I have re-discovered myself - my passions, my voice, the things I truly enjoy, besides being a teacher or a camp worker. As I have made time for other things, I have found moments of true and perfect peace, reveling in God and His creation and how God created me.

I have learned bravery and contentment, even in the midst of uncertainty and restlessness. I've learned to listen for the Holy Spirit by abiding in and memorizing Scripture (a lesson I have a feeling I will re-learn time and again).

As I look ahead into this summer, I am overwhelming excited. Not only is it the season of many of my favorite things : camp, fresh-starts, adventures, tans, flip-flops, playing outside, free time, swimming, grilling out; now I also see it as a time of great preparation. God was faithful as He prepared me last year. What will this year bring?


"When we are who we are called to be, we will set the world ablaze."
-St. Catherine of Siena




And just FYI - I love my class this year. They have been a challenge, but they are some of the sweetest and loving-est children I have ever had the joy to work with. They always make my laugh and smile, and they truly are gems.