Come To Me

He began pursuing me quietly last spring.

Some family members sat across from me in the living room while my Little Love happily played on the floor between us.  They asked me what I was doing to find rest.  I responded about how I had begun reading for fun on Sundays during naptime.*  That was something, right?  I moved on.

A week or two later, during the first week of the spring session of the mother’s group at Crossroads the question we were to discuss was “How do you seek rest?”  The women around me spoke up and I sat quietly fumbling for anything to say.  I muttered something about the new planner I had purchased and trying to have a plan each day.  It is true that this was helping me to accomplish more, but truly I was treading water and I didn’t even know it.  I moved on.

As summer arrived, life changed as Jason began traveling regularly for the first time in over a year.  Life seemed to be moving along, but as it did exhaustion was beginning to surface alongside two companions, anger and impatience.  These were directed inwardly and toward my poor husband who deserved none of it.  At one point I found myself reading a bunch of Kevin Leman books, one about stress.  It was like he knew what was going on, but I was still in a place of thinking I could handle everything on my plate.  Of course I could.  I moved on.

The schedule on my calendar in August was relentless.   Jason traveling.  Commitments in the evenings.  Home projects.  Food to make for more than just our family.  No breaks.  But something had to break.  It turned out it was me.

I found myself crying in the arms of my husband’s arms, him asking what was wrong.  After weathering the first two weeks, I looked at the rest of the month unable to figure out how I would survive the rest.  He asked what he could do.  I wasn’t sure.

I was reading my Bible trying to hold on.  I was spending time with our family on the weekends, with my girlie at other times.  I wasn’t spending much time with just my husband.  I really didn’t have any time for me, except in the shower at the end of the day.   It was all too much.  Jason listened telling me that he had been trying to tell me this for months.  I know he had.  Finally, I knew.  I couldn’t keep going like this. 

The crazy thing is that some place in me I felt like I should be able to do this without a break.  The truth is the only one who is supposed to be able to do everything is God.  I am not God…though sometimes I try to be in my desire to control the circumstances around me (mostly without realizing it).  The crazy thing is that while I was trying to read God’s Word and connect with Him I seemed to be unaware of the way He was speaking to me in the midst of my circumstances all along.  While I felt like time spent in His word was dry; He was trying to breathe life into my life if I just had eyes to see and would be courageous enough to trust him and give him control.

He was calling out:

"Come to me, [you] are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your soul.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." -Matthew 11:28-30

I needed space to rest.   I needed to find a way to be me again.

So it began.  Jason stayed with our Little Love while I ran some errands.  Although I had no pressing commitments, I was rushing the whole time.  I discovered how inwardly rushed I had become.  It turns out it is a lot easier to get into a rut than to find the way out.  I have embarked on the journey though.  I am working on asking for help from family.  I am also working on finding people to trust my Little Love with when family is not free.  I am doing all this very imperfectly, but as I have been taking small steps forward I have found that I have a bit more energy to do what I knew that I could. 

That seems so very backwards, yet it is true.  When we rest we have the energy to work, to create, to respond.

I am learning to rest again.  I am learning to follow those little nudges of the Holy Spirit again that lead to peace and life and love and rest so that I can rise to whatever the calendar brings and then some.   As I do better, I hope you will find me typing away and sharing the beautiful journey of becoming with you.**

***

Grace and peace be ours in abundance as we pursue Jesus’ promise that when we come to Him we will find rest.  May His rest reach into the deepest parts of who we are and breathe His life into us spilling forth His radiant love.

Jessica :)

*I read often, nursing has been great for that, but it had been months since I had read any fiction for fun.   I tend to devour it and nonfiction is much easier to put down for chores.

**While I hope this means I will be able to post more regularly, I plan to rest as needed.  So if you find yourself enjoying this space on A Becoming Life and not knowing when to expect a post, perhaps you might consider joining the email list to get the next post in your email whether it is one week or a month or a few months!

Scripture Reads

It is an activity I have often led in leadership trainings and participated in while on retreats. 

Often it is called lectio divina. Yet, tonight as I sit at Last Wednesday, Chuck and Andrea don’t call it that.  Instead, they strip the practice down to its core and call it what it is—listening to God through His Word.

They teach.

He is always speaking through His Word. 

“For the word of God is alive and active.  Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.”  Hebrews 4:12

As we read Scripture, Scripture is reading us, they say.

They challenge.

Do we take time to stop and listen to God in His Word?

They lead.

As an auditorium of many, we stop to practice. 

We read and listen for God to speak.

“Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess for he who promised is faithful.  And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.” Hebrews 10:23-25

As I read, it stands out to me like words bolded on the page, calling out to my heart: 

“Hold unswervingly to the hope” and “he who promised is faithful.”

In the minutes that follow I am invited to consider what God might be trying to say to me.  I read the passage again and the context provides the key to what I think God is trying to tell me.

I don’t really like it.  This is about my attitude, my bad attitude.  I can hold to it or I can hold unswervingly to my hope trusting that he who promises is faithful.

I sit in the midst of an unwelcome confrontation.  Will I receive what I think God is speaking to me?

At the moment, I think I am very happy with my bad attitude.  Will I let it go?

Chuck challenges us to “share what you think you heard with someone from your tribe and act on it” before we go to bed tonight.  He has already shared that it is often in sharing what we think we hear that we receive confirmation (“Yes that sounds like God based on His Word and character"), correction (“No that’s not God” or further insight), and encouragement.

I am not looking forward to this sharing, but I am determined to do it. 

On my way home, I try to brainstorm ways of avoiding this assignment altogether.  However, in the end, I realize I will either do it or not, with this task there is no half-way.

When Jason asks about Last Wednesday I dodge, preferring to listen to him share why he wasn’t able to come late like he hoped.

We carry on with what is left of our evening—comparing baby items online—until I finally work up the courage to share what I think I heard God say to me.

In this, I pour out what I’m ashamed to admit to him—my bad attitude spilling out real and ugly.  Somehow it seems even uglier when it is out in the open.  I think I’m beginning to recognize this attitude for what it really is—toxic.  When I think of this, I’m not quite so happy with it anymore.  

Still, I hold to it defiantly—waiting. 

I am waiting for the words of correction to painfully whip across my heart. 

Instead, my husband gracefully draws me close and speaks.  Far from stinging censure, his words are gentle, but pointed.  His words bring the perspective I need.  They help me see what I could not see before.  What he says changes everything.  

All at once, I am broken for the way I have been rigid, inflexible and critical.  I have been trying to control this situation and in doing so I have been everything but loving. 

After I take it all in, I turn toward Jason and apologize for how I have made things difficult for him.  The tears trickle as I tell him I want to be a helpful partner in the midst of this situation.  I tell him I want to respond compassionately and live trusting the Faithful One to work out all I hope for in the midst of something I am unable to control.

In the midst of this, he affirms me and gives me encouragement.

I look into his kind eyes and realize that my dread is gone.  The toxins have been drawn out.  I feel free somehow.  I find I am softened at heart and ready to respond to all that God has spoken to me.

I wonder at it all.

I walk upstairs to get ready for bed thankful and lifting up praise for the beginning of His transformation in me.

***

Grace and peace be ours in abundance as we listen to God—in His Word—seek counsel from our tribe, and follow where He leads.  May we find that He is good and works for ours.

Jessica :)