There resides a restlessness in me. Usually on Sundays I am able to settle into
the Sabbath. I eat. I sleep. I rest. I get that late afternoon Coke. I want a
Coke…and then we settle into an evening just me and Mr. Jones, or a relaxed
evening with the kids and grilled cheese sandwiches, or breakfast for dinner. And
in it is an internal rest.

Today there has been no internal rest. My body is tired. Three consecutive nights of crazy dreams and miserable sleep have me just plain tired. Burning eyes.  Bone weary tired. But yet I can’t settle. I can’t nap. Don’t want to work. It’s Sunday. My Sabbath. The computer calls. I answer a few emails. But my soul wants something more.

Worship this morning was rich and full. I wept. It couldn’t be stopped. The tears flowed
freely. Philly and I got leading on a question regarding our giving today.
You’ve spoken. You’ve been present. You’ve ministered to my soul and yet rest
eludes me.

There is such a “doing” of spirit that still tries desperately to pull my heart back. Do this _____ fill in the blank. Do a quiet time. Do emails. Do bills. Do a phone call. Do a journal entry. I almost didn’t write this down at the pressure of feeling like it was work. But then my heart felt the need to pull away. Pulling me to the eternal rest.

I took comfort in the scripture during worship. I had told Philly last night about a
moment  on Friday when I was at the mall and I was standing in front of the
mirror in the ladies room next to a young girl of not much more than eighteen. I
studied her face. It was youthful. Soft. Alive. Fresh. Then I turned to my
reflection. It wasn’t. I didn’t see the youth I saw in her. Granted I don’t see
the weariness of years past. But I didn’t see what I see in the mirror after a
few days of getting away either.

We pulled the pillows off of the bed last night to go to sleep as I recollected my mirror story to Philly. I held up a picture from my fortieth birthday. “Look how rested I look.” I said.
He laughed as he tossed another pillow. “We’ve worn you out in three years huh
babe?” I didn’t laugh. There was an element of truth. “You know when you hear
people say, ‘I don’t feel my age? Well, I do.'”

So the passage this morning encouraged me Isaiah 40:30-31 “Youth may faint and grow weary and young men stumble and fall. But those who trust in The Lord will renew their strength. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and faint not.” I needed to
know that youth get weary. But I also needed to be reminded that on some days
simply walking and not fainting is enough.

There is a rest for my soul that is only available in You. Father, I pray as I walk out this fast that place of rest will come and an intense place of abiding that is settled. That
weariness will be far from me. That I will be obedient to what You are calling
me to and what You are not calling me to.