Reflections on God's Word

“Come to me, all you who”….drive themselves unmercifully. (Matthew 11:28 personalized)

I used to teach school in Asheville, North Carolina.  Once I accompanied the 6^th grade class on a walking history tour of the downtown. I learned that in the early 1800s when fewer than 500 folks lived in the area, pig farmers would ‘drive’ their hogs through the center of the village on their way further south. There wealthy plantation owners eagerly bought their livestock to feed their slave labor.  Those who walked their pigs to market were called ‘drovers’ because they would drive or push the reluctant animals forward.

I am both the driven creature and the drover.  And I have been pushing myself forward for too long 

I’m not sure of the genesis of this unhealthy way of life.  Most likely it was a compensatory tool to make myself feel okay as a teenager. Moving to a particular new school a month into my junior year unsettled me.  I didn’t fit in and had just one friend. To avoid the awkwardness of the school cafeteria, I started isolating myself in the library so I wouldn’t have to confront the realities of being an outsider. Hiding my food, I would read something ‘edifying’. (Can you say ‘scofflaw’?)

Over time I developed an identity that made me feel better than others. Somehow, I transformed the gift of learning into a dependency. I had to make ‘every moment count’.  I read classics and listened to podcasts, trying to fill up the emptiness.

And I have carried this tendency into retirement. For a full five years, I have known this about myself and have grown exhausted.

All along Jesus keeps beckoning ‘Come!’ Especially in the early mornings.

Sitting out back watching the birds gather at the feeder, drinking in the beauty of the trees, the green, the cool, the quiet, I most strongly feel the Lord’s invitation to let go, to trust him. Yet, I drag my feet. Having a to do list feels good.

The other night, Jesus messed with my sleep which always gets my attention.  I got up at the usual time, but 20 minutes later, had to head up to the guest room and lie down for almost an hour. I knew I wouldn’t make it to my exercise class, let alone face the rest of my schedule.  Getting up a second time, I took some time to meet with the Lord and get a quick beauty fix.

Come to me, Maria, you who are so weary.  Give it up.  You don’t need to drive yourself any more. Eliminate some things.  It’s okay.  So, I did. I made a baby step, canceled two language lessons and felt the walls open up to give me more space.  I talked all this over with Mike.  He communicated with me through his expressive face, as he listened silently as words tumbled out with tears. Then he hugged me and told me I was moving in the right direction.

This morning I felt more relaxed. Today is less packed. 

Whatever I’ve been trying to prove, I don’t need to any more.

I know that I will probably fall back into old patterns, but this time I feel resolve and hope. 

Jesus really does mean what he says.  He will never take back his offer of rest. But rest on HIS terms.  Without condemnation.

Remember, friend, we have a deadly enemy who would rather have us über-busy.  He is against anything beautiful, anything that promotes rest, anything that causes us to simply abide with Jesus. Can we not just sit a spell and enjoy his creation. 

What must we DO to be saved from ourselves, our sin, our traps, our hurts? Believe Jesus and simply come to him.

This old hymn says it best:

1 Just as I am, without one plea,
but that thy blood was shed for me,
and that thou bidd’st me come to thee,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

2 Just as I am, and waiting not
to rid my soul of one dark blot,
to thee, whose blood can cleanse each spot,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

3 Just as I am, though tossed about
with many a conflict, many a doubt,
fightings and fears within, without,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

4 Just as I am, thou wilt receive,
wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve;
because thy promise I believe,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

Psalter Hymnal, (Gray)