This week's post by Brandon Adent, a deacon at Redeemer Church. He likes music, words, and words about music.

A couple weeks ago, I wrote on listening to sermons, about being attentive to what God is speaking through His Word and how to work towards getting the most out of it. As a part of that post, I touched on my fondness for paper Bibles. Specifically my paper Bible with rips, creases and coffee stains accumulated over nearly a decade of use.

It reminded me how much I love things I can feel.

We live in a world of automation, of comfort and ease. If you don’t own, don’t want to carry, or just straight up forgot a paper Bible on a Sunday, you can downIoad one to your phone in an instant. Most of the time, if you don’t want to go into the bank you don’t have to, and you can make a transfer in seconds. If you don’t want to read the newspaper, you can jump on the web to get the highlights, curated and tailored to your specific interests. If you don’t want to chop vegetables, you can get a machine that will do it for you, and do it better than you could.

God created us as physical beings to live and interact with physical objects, to create and steward and manage them for His glory and the good of everyone. And yet, it seems to me that we go to great lengths to rid ourselves of these cumbersome physical processes. Or, at least to get physical things that make life easier. I really, really don’t think that’s bad. But I do think we take them for granted, and miss out on opportunities to thank God for His provision.

Telling Stories

At many points in the gospels, we can hear Jesus speak in parables, basically stories with a moral or spiritual lesson. Often, He uses everyday objects and processes as illustrations. He references vine pruning, wine pressing, bird watching, bread baking, fishing, reaping and sowing. These are jobs that, if people didn’t do them themselves, they were at least aware of what they entailed.

Jesus then connects these mundane, arduous, physical processes, and uses them to say something about God and what He's doing.

When I eat bread I know that it tastes good, but I am so far disconnected from the physical process of making it that I completely forget the hours and care and ingredients went into it.

Some friends of mine recently started baking bread the old fashion way, beginning with the starter. They mix flour and water and let it sit for awhile, “feeding” it more flour as the starter expands until finally they have enough leaven to make a couple loaves of bread.

Because they’ve gone through the process of making bread and I haven’t, Jesus saying “The kingdom of heaven is like leaven that a woman took and hid in three measures of flour, till it was all leavened”, is going to mean a lot more to them than it is to me. (Matt 13.33)

What We’re "Missing"

So, what am I suggesting? Just that we be mindful people that take the time to understand what we're missing, that know the time and effort it took someone to make what they did and be grateful to God for whatever agony they saved us.

For example, rather than write my own definition of a parable, I used Google to find a definition in about six seconds.

Google is easy, right? Just punch in what you want and see where it takes you. But, what process is that replacing?

Twenty years ago, my parents would have told me to go find a dictionary, which would have taken me a whole five minutes, and if we didn’t have a dictionary or it wasn’t in there, I would have had to ask everyone I knew until I found an answer. If those efforts proved fruitless, I would have had to carefully read all the parables, distill them down to their core elements, and come up with a definition myself. For what it’s worth, I think that process is really fun.

But I don’t have time to do it right now. So. Praise God for Google! He gave someone a vision for what internet searching could be, and gave them the mind to make it.

I’ve got another friend who’s really into woodworking, and he uses all hand tools to do it. One of his earlier projects was to make a workbench, crafted to his exact needs. I don't recall how long it took, but I know it was awhile. He came out the other side of the project with something he was proud of and a greater understanding of woodworking.

My friend loves woodworking. I do not. If I want a workbench, I will go buy a workbench. Shoot, if I want a wooden stool, I'll go buy a wooden stool.

But because of my friend, I would appreciate that stool more, knowing how much time and effort went into it, even if it was a five dollar stool machined by someone in China. Which, as an aside, is also crazy. Because that means someone figured out to make a stool that would cost me five dollars and make enough money to stay in business.

These are all examples of people, made in the image of God, doing what people do, being creators and stewards and managers of the world around them. We don’t always have the best of intentions when we do this, but God gives a lot of grace for our endeavors to work out for the benefit of others.

Being Thankful

I don't think we always have to go through the process of figuring out what we're "missing". Sometimes, we just don't care; we just need to get the thing done and move on. And that's okay.

One thing we should understand, though, is that God Himself didn't just send His Son to save us from an inconvenience, but from an impossibility.

The debt we owe for our sin is so great that no amount of mere human toil could overcome or pay it back. Jesus lived perfectly, died sacrificially, and rose victoriously for people who were and are unaware of what they owe apart from Christ.

For all of this, let's be marked by a constant gratefulness just to be alive, for the convenience and luxury we often take for granted, and the new life that we have in Jesus.

This week's post is by Ashley Bowie.

In a small upstairs dining room, in a rented space filled with quick glances and a tangible uncertainty the son of God sat breaking bread and praying. Low candles threw shadows around the room and on the faces of the men with Him. Some were afraid, or worried, most were confused. All sat listening intently through the sounds of eating and drinking and light conversation. With one ear to his brother and one ear to the Lord each of them waited. Something was happening, something was about to change. As they waited patiently they looked carefully at one another, Do you know what this is all about? Have you heard what he plans to do? All of them were looking for answers, all of them could feel the tension. All of them but Peter. Peter sat tall and easy. He sought a lively conversation but could not find it among his brothers. He leaned into his meal instead and focused on flavor. He did not notice when Jesus stood and filled a basin with water. He did not see the Son of the Almighty God wrap a servant’s towel around His waist and carry the water to his own feet. He did not notice until his feet were in the hands of Jesus and it became appallingly clear what He intended to do.

“Lord do you wash MY feet?” This was a job for the lowly, a disobedient servant, a young or very new servant. Certainly not a job for the great teacher, and not at all a thing for God himself to do. He could not allow it, Peter would do anything to serve the Lord and had said so, planned to say so again. I will die for you Lord. He rehearsed in his mind again. No this would not do. Maybe he would stand so Jesus could not wash his feet, or call on his fellow disciples to say something sensible.

“If I do not wash you, you have no share with me.” Jesus said patiently, with an eternity of longing in His voice. Peter softened, his bravado deflated. Above all, he must be with the Lord forever. Of all the things he had ever wanted, of all the paths in life he had tried, following Jesus had been the only right. If He says I am not clean then I will let Him wash me, he reasoned. If cleanliness is what he wants, then I want to be totally clean.

“Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!” Don’t count me out Lord! Clean all of me so I can be with you.

“The one who has bathed does not need to wash, except for his feet, but is completely clean. And you are clean.”

~

I’ve been talking about the subject of this blog for several weeks now. My friends know that when I get excited about something they can expect to hear about it day and night ad infinitum. It was something of an epiphany that hit me as I was reading through the book of John one morning. Like a flame lit in my heart spreading warmth through me. I’m a little bit more afraid of this little candle than I thought, because as it happens, it’s not just a candle, it’s the consuming fire of a real and consistent face to face relationship with Jesus.

When we think of submission, I would guess that most of us think about doing as we are told by whomever happens to be in authority. We think of bosses or parents, and making good choices when it comes to our spiritual lives. We think of abstaining from sin and doing the good right things that the Lord gives us to do. These are good thoughts about submission, right even, but in the context of John 13 we have this miraculous moment when we are commanded to submit to being served by the Lord.

Sit right there, child you have been walking in the world. You have been living and striving and walking to and fro trying to be a good servant and a faithful child and you have collected the dust and filth of the world on your feet. Let me pour this pure water over your feet and wipe them with this towel white as snow.

I have sinned recently. At the time of this writing I am unwilling to tally up all the ways I have been selfish or careless, cold hearted or have let my words get away from me. I’m sure you understand; you are every bit as human as I am. When I am made aware of my sins, the filth of the world on my feet, I have a tendency to wallow for a few days. Then I try to clean up myself. As though I sit with a gavel in my human hearts court room and lay out a sentence. Do three kind things, say words of encouragement to people who annoy you, read nothing but scripture for a week. I have a friend who says that she “grounds” herself. She feels like she cannot go out with friends or do anything fun.

James chapter 4 says that when we do these things we become judges of the law. As if to say that the plan Jesus laid out for confession and repentance is not enough and we need to add our own items to the list in order to feel clean again.

Repentance will never stop being a part of our lives on this side of eternity. There is always going to be something to be sorry for. No matter how hard you try, you will continue to walk through the world and collect the mess on your feet. True, soul deep repentance puts you face to face with Jesus. As He kneels before you, the one He laid down His life for, the one He paid His own blood for, He looks into your eyes and says “You are already clean, just let me take care of these feet. Thank you for coming to me today because I know that you needed to sit here and confess all the mess you have gotten into, and look there, it is finished.”

This story happens within the framework of the last supper. Jesus’s final communion with His disciples included a teaching on confession and repentance. It should be often and intentional that we come to have our feet washed. And when He has washed their feet He gives us this command; John 13:14-15 “If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have given you an example, that you also should do just as I have done to you.”

I think most of us repent in solitude because we don’t want others to know just how bad we are. I really hate to imagine what people would think of me if they knew how selfish I can be sometimes, or how angry I can get if things don’t meet my expectations. But here we have the example of Jesus; we are not to come to one another with superiority or with any of our own judgments on the law. We are to come with a servant’s towel and humble knees. It is messy to live in the world my friend, and I don’t want you to be slowed down by thorns or a collection of dirt. So let me help you, let me pray with you and we can walk on together.

Isaiah 52:7 “How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, “Your GOD reigns!”

This week's post by Brandon Adent. A deacon at Redeemer, rock climber, musician, and history dweeb.

Have you ever been caught “present”, but not “here”?

Recently, my wife and I were waiting for our lunch order and discussing the development of household plumbing in Europe - as one does - when a bit of a breeze picked up.

Unfortunately, I had left my jacket at the office, and for just an instant my mind wandered off to retrieve it.

When it returned to my still-stationary body, I noticed the pause indicating it was my turn to talk.

“Yeah”, I said. Not the most appropriate response to a question like “I know the Romans developed the aqueducts to carry the water around, but when did that technology actually arrive in the townships?”

I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to assume that we’ve all been in similar situations. When it comes to conversation, we’re present but not “here”. Listening to a sermon is no exception.

Hearing the Word

When it comes to hearing the preaching of God’s Word, we easily adopt this present-but-not-here mentality. It’s easy to hide in the crowd, and it’s easy to forget the origin of the words we hear.

Even if with our heads in the game, listening can be a real battle. I’ve personally noticed that I’m rarely more hungry, rarely more thirsty, rarely more sleepy, and rarely have to use the restroom with greater frequency than when I am trying to listen to God’s Word preached; it’s as if my whole body is telling me I need anything and everything but Him.

But especially when it’s hard, listening is important. We’re hearing about God, how we’ve treated Him, what He’s done in and through His Son, and how we are to respond. These are topics of the utmost importance; we have to do something with what we hear. That something could be nothing, but if so we’re missing out on an opportunity for growth, and, I think, a real chance at joy.

Here are some things we can all do to improve at listening to the preached Word.

1. Pre-Read The Text for the Week

In his introduction to The Lord of the Rings, Tolkien writes of how Hobbits “love to read books about what they already know”. I’ve found that trait true for myself, as well; I’ve been reading books about the Second World War since high school and the more I read, the more I want to know.

Social sites like Facebook are built around this proclivity in order to gain financially: if you click on content of a certain type you will see more content of that type on your news feed, which drives ad and product sales for Facebook and their customers.

The more familiar we are with a subject, the more we want to know about it. Similarly, the more familiar we are with a passage in the Bible, the more curious about it we’ll be and therefore more likely we’ll be to listen to it preached. We’ll get stuff out of it that we probably wouldn’t find on our own.

If you can, try to spend fifteen or twenty minutes looking at the passage for the week. Try to identity the main point of the passage and be able to articulate why you think so.

If you’re really feeling ambitious, try reading the whole book or letter. If for example, the passage is in Ephesians, read the whole letter of Ephesians; this will give you an idea of the main theme(s) of the letter and help you put what’s preached in context.

However much you pre-read, you’re be able to engage with the Word at a deeper level during the sermon.

2. Put Your Back Into It

Listen actively. Get your whole body and mind focused on what you hear. Let your body know it’s time to listen, and assume a posture that reflects that desire.

That looks different for everyone. I’ve got a friend who makes eye contact, says nothing, and doesn’t move. Right when you’re not sure he’s been listening, he responds in a way that only a listening person could. For me, that’s head up and eyes forward unless directed elsewhere. I do weird things like shake my head and nod. Somehow, it helps work things into my thick head.

Some people take notes to cement what they heard into their memory or for later review.

Feel free to try things out, but please don’t be weird or distracting to others.

It’ll help you stay focused and communicate to others that it’s time to listen.

3. Look At The Text

While the words we hear are those of humans, they must be anchored in the Word of God and drenched in the good news of the Gospel. Part of listening actively is making sure they are, and in order to make sure that they are, we need to have God’s Word in front of us, either in paper or digital form.

Personally, I am a huge advocate for paper. I bring my own so that I’m familiar with the layout and can flip to verses quickly, where I can quickly scan the text and put the verse in context.

If it works for you, you can totally use your phone or a tablet. There’s apps you can use to check words or phrases and alternate translations.

If you go digital, just make sure you stay tethered to what you hear “now”. In addition to the obvious distractions of social media and text messages, scampering down rabbit trails of discovery can be a diversionary tactic of the flesh and a soft spot in our armor for the devil, who whispers “It’s okay that you’re not listening; you’re reading the Bible”, a half-truth that undermines the authority of the preached Word where the Scriptures affirm (Nehemiah 8.1-8, Acts 2, Acts 6.4).

If you’re still interested in an hour (and hopefully you are), you can look it up then.

4. Talk About What You’ve Learned

As many of us know, it’s much easier to get away with passive listening in a classroom. When conversing with a friend and we’re caught not listening, our friend’s feelings may be hurt. But in a group setting, we’re never really confronted with the relational implications of what we’ve done.

Put yourself in a position to share what you learned. Engage on the topics with your Gospel Community, whether or not they come up in a formal context. Ask your spouse or talk with your kids about what they learned, or if there were any verses in the passage that stuck out to them.

The more senses we engage the more we’ll learn, and hopefully the knowledge we gain will stir our hearts to look more like Jesus.

The Perfect Listener

Listening is hard. It just is. Sometimes it’s more difficult than others, but it’s an important discipline, one that we’ve all failed at one time or another.

But because of His great love for people who ignored and spurned Him, Christ came and lived spotlessly, listened perfectly and applied what He heard flawlessly. He died and rose to make rebels righteous.

In His power, we can really hear what He says through His Word preached.

This week's post was written by Theresa Adams who is constantly trying to convince herself that tea is just as good as coffee.

In the last few years we have had to sit down with our two boys, multiple times, to share with them that people near and dear were no longer going to be married. We've also experienced a lock-down at my son's elementary school. We've known people who have passed away and others who have battled life threatening illnesses. And this is just what our little family of four has encountered. The world at large is full of broken marriages, hurting people, dangers and uncertainty. As a mama who has two little ones, which means my heart lives outside of my body, there can be much to cause fear. Much to cause anxiety. Much that could overwhelm us.

It would be great if they made life-sized bubbles for our kiddos so that we could shield them from all of the brokenness and messiness they will encounter here on earth. But since that isn't an option what are we to do? How to shield them and let them experience it all so that when they go out into the world, as an adult. they will know how to comfort those in the brokenness rather than add to it? How to insulate them from all the negative? How to do so without your own fear being a burden upon their childhood? How to teach them that being courageous is sometimes more important than being safe? How to prepare them for life so they won't come running back to us and live in our basements? Unfortunately they will not encounter another way until they are rejoicing in heaven. Only then will their tears finally be wiped away. Then there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain. Until that time there are all of the above and more.

This whole living in fear thing is new to me. Growing up and in my young adult life I was mildly void of fear. Spontaneity beckoned me and I typically answered without much thought or concern of what could or couldn't happen. I hitchhiked and went on solo trips across country all without a cellphone (least you think that was on account of bravery let me just be honest and say it was because they hadn't been invented yet.) I threw myself off of cliffs into the water below just for the thrill of it. Now, since becoming a mother, I get nervous and clammy driving over high bridges or when my kids get too close to the edge of a ledge overlooking the water below. Even though said ledge towers above them and there is literally no foreseeable way they could fall in. Still clammy. Still sometimes hold onto the hood of my youngest least a sea creature from down below were to leap up and decide he'd make a tasty treat. Okay, maybe not that last one so much but you can see how easily it is to be dwarfed by the umbrella of "what-if's." And these are just for the run-of-the-mill fears. Not the life threatening "what-ifs" about contracting a life-threatening disease or coming into a life-threatening situation simply when going throughout your day It, again, really does make the kid-in-a-bubble thing sound not so bad.

It's all too much. There is too much to fear and there is too much that could go wrong. But if we let fear win then we are going to miss out on too much joy. Too much love. Too much spontaneity and too much good. Life is hard enough as it is that we don't need to be saddled down by any additional weight of worry or anxiety or distress. What is a mama to do other than to spend time on her knees and trust the One who gave her those that cause her heart to live outside of her body. What can we do but believe and trust Him when he says:

"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9

We can also remember we have a choice to live each day one day at a time. Not looking too far ahead but rather just soaking up the moment and the gift that it is. Maybe it's just me, but I don't want fear to get an inch more than it deserves. It has it's place and it is a good emotion to have when, say, you run into a grizzly bear. But day in and day out I want my emotions to know that I'm in charge and I want to model that for my children.

Fear often is nothing more than an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous. In most cases it isn't even an actuality it's just a possibility. These ones we are raising up are going to need all the braveness they can muster.  They who take their cues from us. They look to us before they have a reaction. They cry harder if we gasp when they fall. They look more triumphant after seeing our smile. They need to know that we think they've got this. They also need to know that we've got this and that in the times when we don't that we  have someone to turn to who will never falter. Never leave. Never change. They need to know that we will keep trusting in the One who holds us all in the palm of His hands. They need to know that we will keep crying out on our knees for the courage and peace and love only He can provide to keep the fear it it's place.

"Steps unseen before me,

Hidden dangers near;

Nearer still my Savior,

Whispering, "Be of cheer"

Joys, like birds of springtime,

To my heart have flown,

Singing all so sweetly,

                                                                               "He will not leave me alone"

 

This blog is written by Becca Wellan. Nanny for two littles. Caffeine addict. Child of God.

Things that stress me out: Bees, balloons, and house hunting.

The past few weeks, I’ve been singing The Renters Blues to myself as I scroll through Craigslist every five minutes. But hey, who’s counting? Apparently the availability rate in Bellingham is 1% right now. Pour me a glass of that sweet tea, wouldya honey? I made it with the lemons life gave me.

Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating. Just a little. But hey, finding a new place, ideally with some walls and a roof, is pretty high on my “adulting” list now that I bought a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

Since I moved out of my parents to go to Western, I’ve searched for a place to live each year. A place of rest and refuge; where I feel safe. A place filled up with laughter, shared tears, and welcoming arms. A place I can feel at home.

As I’ve wrestled through some emotionally rough patches these past few months, I’ve come to realize that my search for home goes much deeper than just finding some walls, a roof, and a lease sign.

Since I could breathe, my soul has been aching for home. It’s at the core of who I am. It’s how I’m wired. The grace I’ve found in these last few months is that I’ve been forced to re-think where I’m trying to find it.

If you are human (if you can read this, I’m 98% certain you are), you naturally long to feel safe. You desire to be fully known, flaws and all, yet be fully accepted. To be comforted, and deeply loved. To have stability and consistency. When you find this, you find home. That’s how God wired you.

Since I could breathe, my soul has been aching for this kind of home. And, I always find it in relationships. This is not always a bad thing. Community and deep friendships are some of the most beautiful gifts God gives us. God’s people, though sinful, are His presence in a broken world. I fully believe that.

But here’s the catch:

People aren’t always there for you when you need them. People make stupid decisions that break your heart. People will forget about you, they will back out on their plans with you. They will hurt you, even with the best intentions. And, there is always the gut-wrenching chance they will leave you.  

The problem is that I find myself banking on other people to come through for me, every time I need them. I need their comforting words, their reassurance, their presence, to feel okay again.

So where do you find home? Who do you depend on to always make you feel safe, to love you completely, to never fail you?

God wired us to long to be loved perfectly, to be deeply connected to a constant anchor when the storms come. But, other people have storms, too.

So why did God wire us this way?

“One thing have I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after:
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life.” // Psalm 27:4-5

We are wired to seek after God’s presence, as long as we live. He is our constant anchor; no one else - no matter how great they are - can be that for us. We are wired to long for His company, to run into His arms when the our storms come. To know Him, and be known by Him.

We truly find home when our desire for home is met in Christ Jesus. It’s what we were designed for. Only through believing in Him can we be fully known yet fully accepted. Only in Him can we find true comfort. Only through believing in Him, and living each day resting in His constant, unbreakable friendship, can you come home.

Each day, may our heartcry be, “Lord, may I find my home in you all the days of my life.”

I still don’t have a place to live in the fall. I’ve been making phone calls and looking at property management websites even as I’ve been writing this. But I can put my laptop away and rest, knowing that my greatest need for home has already been met.

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” // Matthew 11:28

This week’s post is by Brandon Adent, a deacon at Redeemer Church. He likes music, words, and words about music.

Easter morning I showed up for rehearsal feeling less than stellar, and left feeling even less so.

Exhausted, I lay on the couch, and hardly got up for a week.

I don’t get sick easily; it’d been probably seven years since I’d had the flu, and probably three since I’d had to take multiple days off from work. Maybe both of those numbers are normal, maybe they’re high, maybe they’re low. No matter, when Tuesday showed up, they both reset to zero, and the timing felt absolutely the worst.

Really, anytime is the worst, but this was bad. There wasn’t really anything of utmost importance I would miss, nothing that couldn’t be rescheduled, anyway.

But after several months of stalemate, I was at long last beginning to see progress in a couple of different areas, finally starting to feel productive, to see progress, to get back into a rhythm. I was exhausted from spinning my wheels in the sand, but at least I was moving again.

Yeah, no more. For the next week, I did nothing but toss and turn, whimper and puke. In all honestly, I didn’t probably have it that bad. But it felt bad. I felt bad.

And as I sat there wanting nothing but the Second Coming of Christ, I couldn’t help but ask God what I had done to deserve this.

Lay Down, Little Sheepy

Some time ago, someone pointed out to me the particular phrasing of the first couple verses of the well known Psalm 23:

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me beside still waters.

He restores my soul

He makes me lie down.

At least for my soul, that sounds a lot like this:

Okay, little sheepy, this is a good spot. Take a minute and lay down. No… stop here, don’t keep going. Stop. Okay, c’mon bud, get down. No, all the way… all the way; no, I said DOWN, not up.

LITTLE BUDDY: LAY. DOWN.

DOWN. NOW.

*sickness or injury ensue*

At first glance, this sort of thing seems a bit vindictive or something, but it's actually the opposite.

While Psalm 23 may or may not be a direct reference to the biblical concept of Sabbath rest, I can’t help but see the parallels.

Needing Rest

We need rest; it’s hardwired into creation; even before the Fall, there was rest. In fact, God Himself rested and set that day apart (Gen 2.1-3), not because He needed it, but because He knew we needed it.

Our bodies need to physically recover from the things that we do, but rest is more than sleep or lying around. It’s also allowing oneself the time to just “be”, to reflect on God’s greatness and be astounded that He somehow is mindful of us (Psalm 8).

Rest reminds us who we are, that we can’t do it all. It gives us a chance to unwind and charge up for the week or the day or the hour ahead, mindful of God’s power and our weakness apart from Him.

As Christians, we can take a break from our labor in the full knowledge that Jesus has worked tirelessly and rested perfectly, died and risen so that we can rest in His record and not our own.

Hating Rest

Regardless of any benefit, we don’t like rest. At least I don’t. When I go hiking, I am all about how much ground we cover, how many miles we need to make in a day, how far to the next camp. Don’t stop for water or take pictures in the middle of a hill, keep up the momentum. Actually, my tendency is to speed up while ascending.

I’ll rest when I’m dead, thank you very much. Right now, I’ve got somewhere to be.

I mean, I like the idea of taking a second to look around. But it takes much more effort than it should to just pick my head up for a quick breather; I really like the idea that I don’t need it.

That somehow God made me wrong, that I know what I’m capable of more than He does. I’d rather spend the night nauseous than admit I can’t do it, and it’s happened often enough.

Just Lay Down

There’s a lot of different ways to rest, or "sabbath", and the best way to rest varies so much from person-to-person.

The Sabbath was a day of rest, built into the week. God Himself “sabbathed” after He populated the earth, and written into the Ten Commandments was a weekly “rest day”, which was to be spent differently than the other days of the week, to spend time with God and His people, do good and rest from the labors of the week. Keeping the Sabbath was a big deal, and with the Jewish people today, it still is.

There’s a million ways to take a Sabbath. Take a nap, take a walk, hang out with friends, take your family to the park, play an instrument, work on a project, read a book (or three...), write a letter to your grandmother, and so on and so forth. Just take time to reflect on what God has done for you in Christ and enjoy all the good gifts He’s given you. Take some time to just “be”.

Maybe it’s just me. But I’ve found that when I am not obedient in regular rest, I get made to lay down.

Thankfully, whether we’re smart enough to see it or not, wherever we’re laid down is green pasture where, whether we want Him to or not, He restores our soul.