Jesus Isn't Decaf (By Naomi Meyers)

Growing up, we were avid church camp attendees. Church in general, actually. Twice on Sunday. Wednesday night. Youth service. Prayer meetings. Revival. Camp. We rarely missed one. It would seem I would have more standout memories of sermons heard and lessons learned there. Unfortunately, my memory is faulty and time has faded many of the ones that still manage to surface. Except one. There is one I have remembered, will likely always remember, as clearly as the day it occurred. 

The days of another camp meeting were drawing to a close. We had worked hard, played hard, prayed hard. We were tired. Still we dragged our tired selves into the pews for one of the final services.  We sang. We prayed. We praised. I have no idea who the speaker was. I simply remember what he did. Stepping to the podium, he opened his Bible and read a text. I don’t remember which one. Then, looking out over the audience, he declared, “Sometimes the most spiritual thing you can do is rest.” With those succinct words, he closed his Bible and dismissed the service. Never before and not once since have I heard from the pulpit such acute truth.

It embedded itself in my soul, occasionally crossing my mind. Admittedly, it often surfaces when an overzealous minister’s eloquence outlives the church pews’ relative comfort. Until last week. Last week it came rushing back again. Because I needed to hear it. I needed to do it. I needed rest. I’ve been exhausted and overwhelmed by the raging horde of extra things to do. Winter is coming, adding to the everyday household tasks the extra chores of preparation for the season demands. The split wood needs stacked in the woodshed. The hay bales need collected from the front field. The garden boxes need to be finished and filled with soil in preparation for next year’s planting. The apples are nearly ready to harvest and preserve. The last section of the porch needs painted and sealed. There’s a building project to oversee and a family member in need of attention and attendance. You get the idea. 

Unable to focus my spiraling brain into forming coherent thoughts for penning, I turned my attention to the book we are currently studying in our ladies’ Bible study. Opening to the upcoming chapter, God spoke directly to me. He had exact instructions for this week’s message. For me, definitely. For you, maybe. They could be summed up in just one word. Rest. Physical. Emotional. Mental. Spiritual. Stop wrestling with yourself and all the things and rest in God. I am trying. 

Trying to do what is reasonable every day, but not work myself into exhaustion. Trying to leave all the social upheaval, personal affronts, and stresses of life in God’s hands. Trying to rest my soul in the shadow of the Almighty, shamelessly hiding in the cleft of the Rock until the storms of life are past. Trying to rest, rejuvenate, revive because there is another spiritual battle coming, another moment of temptation looming, another taxing chore to stack on top of the pile, and I want to be ready. Strong. Healthy. Equipped. In every way. (Psalm 37:7-9; Psalm 91:1-2; Psalm 27:5; Psalm 28:7)

So this week, I’m resting. There are fewer words here. Fewer flowery adjectives. Less eloquence. More raw reality. Perhaps you need a rest as well. Perhaps your life is hurtling past you at an alarming rate, the “to-do” basket always full, the “completed” basket always empty. Perhaps you find yourself exhausted, overwhelmed, frustrated, and anxious. If so, I hope you hear the words God spoke to Elijah in the Old Testament, the disciples in the New Testament, and to me just last week. Rest. Trust God. And rest assured that God will renew your strength for all the things that lie ahead. (Mark 6:7-13,30-31; Psalm 103:14; Isaiah 40:29, 31; I Kings 19:5-9; Psalm 23:3; I Chronicles 16:11)