Rest

Because I love you

/ J / 1 Comment

The hours I’ve bounced and paced with my son snuggly tucked in my arms are teaching me something. His cries are often relentless, but so are my arms around him. Tears stain both our cheeks and I wish he could rest in what is true: I love him. I find myself telling him, “you are okay. Do you know why? Because I love you. I am going to take care of you. I won’t forget about you.” 

You are okay. Because I love you. Isn’t that what God tells us, His children? 

Motherhood expands and deepens love to the fiercest form I have ever known. As I brim with love for my son, it has awakened my heart and mind to a deeper comprehension of what it means to be a child of God. 

Our day begins in the corner of our living room. Light sprinkles through the windows onto our rug, scattered with toys. I hear a small voice, cooing and babbling, rattles and bells of objects being shaken and traded between tiny hands. I smile at him, and his delightful giggles flitter across the room. Many of my son’s wakeful hours are spent in this 4×4 area. This corner is what he knows, he has little awareness of what takes place beyond his domain. While he explores and learns, he does not comprehend the work done outside the home to earn and provide. He does not comprehend the perpetual cycle of laundry, shopping, or meal preparation that keeps him warm and fed. He is blissfully unaware of the workings around him. 

I think we too often forget God’s presence in our lives, that He is working in ways we do not comprehend. His love as our Father means He won’t forget about you. But in our distress, we often forget His arms are around us. In our contentment we carry on, as if what was placed in front of us is our own doing. To be a child of God should soften our cries and lift our eyes – tear-filled as they may be – to beaming smiles of grace. In both sorrows and blessings, He is holding us with steadfast love.

My desire for my son – to ensure his future, to be with him through all stages in life – points me to the future that God promises me. These longings are only a single note arrayed in the melody of the most beautiful symphony. As children of God, Romans 8 tells us we are God’s heirs. The significance of this is breathtaking compared to what was once our destiny. We were children of a war-torn country; orphans in a land desolate and despairing. Blood saturated the ground to remind us that death was impending. Nothing was clean, not even our water. We were desperate and dirty with thirst unquenched. And then God takes us in. 

The King of the Universe adopts us.

Tim Keller gives an example which helps encapsulate this astonishing truth, “The only person who dares wake up a king at 3:00 AM for a glass of water is a child. We have that kind of access.” We are not only under the reign of the good King, but we are His kids. He loves us enough to personally care for our needs, to be present no matter the hour. His water is cold and clean. And He promises one day our thirst will be forever quenched. There will be ultimate rest, satisfaction, and joy for the children of the King. He has made us His heirs, His inheritance will be ours. 

This inheritance isn’t promised for just today or tomorrow, but forever. As C.S Lewis puts it, “…the cross comes before the crown and tomorrow is a Monday morning. A cleft has opened in the pitiless walls of the world, and we are invited to follow our great Captain inside.”* As we follow him, our paths will mirror that of Jesus, a path against the flow of culture, a path often marked by great cost. Even as our cheeks are stained from the brokenness of this fallen world, we must not forget: we are tucked in the arms of our Father, the King. We may not comprehend His workings, but we can trust His love. He promises to work all things – the wonderful and the terrible – for our good (Romans 8:28). 

“…and if children, heirs also, heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, if indeed we suffer with Him so that we may also be glorified with Him.”

Romans 8:17

Friends, a crown is coming. Our inheritance will be in the presence of our Father. We belong to Him and will enjoy Him forever. 

Our future is certain because our Father loves us. We tinker in our 4×4 corner and know we occupy only a sliver of what God is doing for our good; his care for us is beyond what we can see and beyond what we can comprehend. 

He says, you are okay. Because I love you. 

*The Weight of Glory, page 45

These Anxious Humans

/ J / Leave a comment

Said the Robin to the Sparrow, 

“I should really like to know

Why these anxious human beings

Rush about and worry so.”

.

Said the Sparrow to the Robin, 

“Friend, I think that it must be

That they have no heavenly Father

Such as cares for you and me.”

Philip Howard

Motherhood has revealed in what my heart rests, and it is not what I thought. 

I find that my world is suddenly full–full of love and meaning; full of new worries and fears; and full of laundry piles and bursting diaper pails. As I care for my son, embracing all the new tasks and responsibilities, rest seems a fantasy. 

In this new world of motherhood, I can’t simply wait for the weekend or the arrival of “the next stage”. This new world strips away all imitations of rest to clearly show the reality of who was always there. I am learning to be buoyed by God and the rest He is ready to provide. 

My natural inclination each morning is to begin accomplishing tasks, instead of beginning in God’s presence. I choose to worry instead of casting my anxiety on Him. I pray most for sleep, instead of a heart that will seek His strength moment by moment. The flow of my days no longer has that self-validating pattern: work hard then rest. Mothers work hard and–even if in moments of relaxing–ever anticipate their baby waking and needing. Feeling the constant pull of chores half done and a racing mind are not outworkings of a woman who knows God’s love and trusts Him completely.

I realize that my old life’s pattern of productivity, organization, and crossing off the to-do list…to be rewarded with relaxation, only gave me a facade of rest. Motherhood is work never done. Motherhood is caring for a person’s body and soul. The weight of that can not be diminished by crossing it off a list. Motherhood laughs at self-sufficiency. Motherhood has shown me that to rest, I need to remember God’s love and I need to love and trust God first. 

I am learning that for my life to be one that trusts my God, I must be disciplined to remember what He has done and then surrender my days to Him. The love that pulls me to my child must only be an echo of the love that pulls me to my God. My heart quickly forgets that God is my greatest treasure. He cares about every detail – the hiccups in my days (and nights) and stressors I encounter are not a surprise to Him. When I am too tired, too emotionally depleted, and trying to care for my baby through tear-flooded eyes, he is there. All the good I want for my son pales in comparison to the good God wants for him and the good that God has already done. When I stop to think, there is nothing more beautiful, freeing, and restful than to surrender my exhaustion and anxieties to Him.

I am also learning to surrender the outcomes. Some babies cry more, sleep less, and all babies require our time and drastically change what we accomplish. Rest doesn’t come when the dishes are done, the baby is [finally] in bed or occupied enough for some sips of coffee. I am not meant to feel satisfied in the parenting wins or depressed by my feelings of parental incompetence. This great privilege of stewarding a life for God must bring us to Him. 

Elisabeth Elliot wrote: 

“He leads us right on, right through, right up to the threshold of Heaven. He does not say ever ‘Here it is.’ He says only “Here am I. fear not.” 

We can rest today and all of our tomorrows because God is faithful to complete His work in us. We can be certain of his love because Jesus went to the cross for us. He has held nothing back and His work for us is still happening when my kitchen is messy and it’s all I can manage just to feed my baby. He isn’t limited when I climb into bed and feel like I didn’t do enough. God simply wants my obedience to love my family through the strength and rest He is ready to give.

We see evidence of God’s care for us, not only in our salvation but in details of creation. Jesus himself reminds us of his provision: 

“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all.” (Matthew 6:15-32, ESV).

When I am tormented by the “what-ifs” and “should-haves” for my son, I can rest. God gave His son for mine to provide a way for eternity. No matter future joys or tragedies, God is present for the details of our lives. 

We rest because God is working and He loves us. 

“Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? And not one of them is forgotten before God. why, even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, you are of more value than many sparrows” (Luke 12:5-7).

“Thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it finds its rest in thee.”

Saint Augustine