To every thing, there is a season
I was exhausted after a long day of work. I had listened to so much pain and sorrow that my heart was heavy. So were my arms and legs; was I fighting off a winter virus I wondered? I crawled onto the daybed and pulled a throw blanket up over me and shut my eyes. Perhaps a few minutes of quiet and I’d feel better.
“You need to let others help you,” God said just as I was getting settled.
“Help me with what?” I asked and opened my eyes.
“With everything. You give, give, give, and give until there is hardly anything left,” God explained. “You must learn to receive.”
“But it feels good to give,” I replied.
Yes, it does. But you must be careful that your giving isn’t feeding your pride which tells you that you don’t need any help,” God said softly. “And, you must be careful that your giving doesn’t make you feel better than those you help.”
“I can see both of those points,” I said honestly.
“Jesus knew that in order to be healthy He had to give and to receive. He even took time off from healing and teaching and went away from the crowds to be quiet and to be with me,” God answered.
I closed my eyes again and exhaled a long, slow breath. “I’ll be quiet and be with you,” I whispered. “And tomorrow, I promise I’ll call a friend and ask for help. I’ll do my best to make sure that my giving is from love, not from my pride.
“I’m glad that you will learn to receive,” God said as I drifted off into a deep and restorative nap.
“It’s been a really long day, God. I was so busy that I forgot to write a Soul Reminder for tomorrow. Do you want me to write one now?” I asked as my head sunk into the soft cradle of my pillow.
“No, you go on and rest. I watched you all day hovered over your work. I know you are tired,” God answered.
“Thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t make sharing you my top priority today.”
“You can write in the morning. I’ll make sure the sunrise is special so that you are inspired,” God said.
“They are always special,” I whispered, “because you make them.” I yawned and rubbed my eyes.
“Sleep well. Sparrow,” God said and kissed me on the forehead.
“Tomorrow I’ll write and tell everyone what a good Father you are.” I half mumbled the words as sleep cast her spell on me.
“You just did,” God said, and He gently sat down at the foot of my bed, humming a lullaby.
“Be still, and know that I am God.”
Here, where the morning has not yet revealed herself fully, I sit in the coolness and watch the light spread across the garden. In this tender moment of daybreak, I lean into God, nestling my head onto His shoulder, seeking His comfort.
“Thank you for this morning,” I whisper.
God brushes a tendril of hair from my face and whispers, “You are welcome.”
I want to say more, to pour out of my heart all that has been troubling me, but something about the softness of the morning stops me. Instead, I sit in silence and rest against God.
The sun makes her slow climb up beyond the horizon, and I rise and make my way into the start of my morning, carrying with me the warmth and strength of God’s strong shoulder.
“Come unto me, all ye that labour
and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”
Life isn’t going the way you think it should. You’re overwhelmed. Tired. Frustrated. Nothing you do seems to solve your problems. You spiral down into self-pity and despair. You are angry with God. You’re weary.
Jesus was very specific in His instructions for when we are heaven laden with problems. He wants us to go to Him and give Him our burdens. In exchange, He will give us rest. When we stop trying to solve everything with our own logic or understanding, and we let God take over, we calm down. We don’t have to fight against anyone or anything, anymore.
You can give your burdens to Him right now. “Dear Jesus, I am tired. I can’t carry this any longer. I place it in your hands. I’ll let you carry it. Thank you.” Anytime you find yourself ruminating over a problem, stop, and give it God.