Rest. I awake after a topsy-turvy sleep episode, feeling robbed of my fair share. What’s this headache about, Lord? Why this uninvited tension knotting my shoulders, sending zingers up my neck?

Could you be plowing in your own strength again, Child?

His invitation beckons.

‘Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.’ -Matthew 11:28–30

Heavy laden? Me? Nah. Pretty sure I’ve got it all handled. I mean, I will as soon as life stops getting in the way of my to-do list. Then everyone will be happy with me. Including me.

As soon as this unexpected bill gets paid.

As soon as we’ve unburied, and remedied the damage from our 42″ snow episode. Broken fences. Monster tree limbs strewn around our home and business.

As soon as I’ve knocked out last month’s whiteboard tasks at work, not to mention last month’s writing goals.

Come to me.

Okay, I get it. And I’m coming, Lord.

I enter the secret place, and here in the pin-drop heart silence, my chin falls. My spirit unites with his. And I see it.

These hands, my hands–they’re empty and powerless. I arrived with nothing but what he has given me. I can’t even take credit for the faith that brought me back here, to yield my heart, to drop to my knees in the soil before him. This too is a grace, a gift of God.

That list in my bullet journal is just so much chicken scratch.

Now I recall the unassuming place I’m meant to occupy in his grace story. Thank you, Jesus.

Now, take my yoke.

This farming metaphor seems ironic. A yoke is the wooden frame that joins two animals for carrying heavy loads. Or for dragging a tiller through the soil. Yet Jesus says when we submit to being yoked with him, rest follows.

Huh? We’ll find our true soul rest within the work, not the weekend? It needn’t involve a dry sauna, or a couch and a cup of chamomile, or plane tickets to someplace warmer?

Yes, Child. You see, wherever you are, you’re already yoked. Either to me or to something else.

Accepting his yoke requires surrendering the one I’ve been toiling under–alone. I have to cast off my own agenda. Leave it there in the dirt.

Because if I’m governed by the need to please or prove or prosper, I’ve relinquished the freedoms Jesus came to grant!

Freedom from submission to harsh religious or cultural expectations.

Freedom from the cruel, inner taskmaster goading me to maintain a certain reputation, to push my way to the top.

Freedom from the futile pursuit of “life balance” with just the right amount of “down-time” to restore me.

I’ve become a Pharisee, even over my own ability to rest. Meanwhile Jesus offers freedom, even in my daily toil.

I surrender, Lord. Everything. Even my bullet journal. Break new ground in me.

Friends, it’s a joy to co-labor with God. He directs the plow. Our daily work is merely to till hardened hearts–in his power not ours. So that HE can plant good seeds into soil that HE has made good. Seeds that will take. Grow. And glorify the Gardener.

His burden is light because he removes the weight of the world from our narrow shoulders, where it never belonged. And he’s always working to meet our needs. Doing all the heavy lifting. Taking responsibility for outcomes.

It wasn’t Jesus’ job to appease his critics. Nor is it ours. Including the ones in our head.

So hear this: We don’t have to earn our rest! We’ve only to come to him, to wear a path to the secret place. Beside the quiet waters, where the other voices subside.

I’ve still so much to learn about humility and submission. But I know it begins with his three-word invitation, “Come to me.”

Today I’m remembering that when the pressure’s on, the only perfection he desires from us is to become perfect mirrors of his character in the world (see Matthew 5:48). And to mirror him, we must first approach him.

[bctt tweet=”When the pressure’s on, the only perfection he desires from us is to become perfect mirrors of his character in the world. And to mirror him, we must first approach him.” username=”KitTosello”]

My capital-M Messiah is helping me snub the tyrannical master in my mirror. And he’s showing me that if I can trust him with the vision, I can trust him with the setbacks.

Even if it means going half as far, twice as slow.

Often I’ll respond to Jesus’ first come-to-me invitation of the day through a song of surrender. Arms lifted in the privacy of my home. This is one of my faves. I encourage you to take this moment and let it become your prayer.

How about you? Have your goals been overshadowing your rest?

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