Sunday Morning Serenity

This morning I read an article by Jonathan Peterson called “Running So Fast Our Souls Can’t Keep Up.” It was an interview with author John Eldredge, who I’m not familiar with, but the title caught my attention.

The interview was all about the frenetic pace at which we live and the media bombardment that eats away at what used to be our down time. We’re Googling current events instead of taking a walk, or we’re reading Facebook—and dealing with the anger, sadness, envy, etc., it can generate—instead of having a cup of coffee with a neighbor.

The most interesting point in the interview, for me, was what Eldredge said about the down time Jesus would’ve had with his disciples, away from the crowds. When the Scripture says something like “Jesus decided to leave for Galilee,” he and the disciples would’ve been making that journey on foot, and it might’ve taken days. They would’ve had time together, Eldredge says, to talk, to experience the natural world around them, to sit around a campfire at night as they made their way from one city to the next. When is the last time any of us spent that kind of time with the people closest to us? We’re lucky just to squeeze an occasional lunch onto our calendars. And when we’re running at such a pace, we often do leave our souls behind because there’s no time for a soulful connection with anybody. It’s exhausting.

But there’s another kind of exhaustion. It comes, not from moving so fast that you can’t give of yourself, but from giving so much of yourself that you don’t recognize the drain as it’s happening. I’ve recently seen friends and family coming to the end of a difficult care journey, faced with letting go of someone who means the world to them. What you’ll hear them say, sometimes directly and sometimes between the lines, is “I’m just so tired.”

We often can't see, when we’re in the throes of doing everything we can for someone we love, that we’re exhausting ourselves. And even when we do see it, we don’t care because our focus is on another. We will somehow do whatever it takes to try and restore them. Only when we accept that “whatever it takes” won’t change the outcome, that God is calling them home, do we realize all of our inner resources have been depleted and we are so, so tired. We need rest—physical, emotional, mental, spiritual—deep rest of every kind.

Jesus said:

“Come unto me,
all ye that labour and are heavy laden,
and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me;
for I am meek and lowly in heart:
and ye shall find rest unto your souls.
For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
Matthew 11: 28-30

 

Comments

[Lynn]

Did you write this one for me, dear friend? Felt like it! The last 10 wks caring for mom were hard, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything! Such sweet times we shared, and then I was blessed to be with her when the Lord called her home!! Now I’m figuring out a new normal again, missing mom and living on the prayers of friends. Thanks for sharing your words today, I was blessed by their power! 💕u!

[valerieluesse]

Love you, sister! And thinking about you. Prayers for comfort and strength. I know you loved that sweet lady dearly--and always will.