Well, I’m Here

Quiet, I sit and ponder, how in the dark, sacred night my thoughts run rather more to the profane than the sacred. 

I wrote earlier today about  being thankful for gifts; a friend suggested just moments ago that it’s time to be thankful, and not a time for making more requests.

Oh, how I want to sit here in the silence and just rest, coming away from the noise and ado, as the Teacher implored His followers to do. 

Do you bear a heavy burden?  I will give you rest.  Just come.

Well, I’m here. 

I’m here, but I don’t feel very rested.  The noise in my brain is still playing at full volume—reminders of missed deadlines—accusations of things I have promised and have not done. My head spins with the dissonance.

Yesterday, I said no to a request from a friend.  Today, the answer is still no, but my heart begins to push back against my head, arguing the merits of acquiescing.  Guilt, and fear that the opportunity may never come again, play havoc with my spirit. 

Loved ones are ill, one near death, and I resist the tears of sadness that threaten to overflow.  Others need help, but won’t accept what is offered and I hold back tears of frustration at their stubbornness. 

I sit in the dark and quiet of the night with the maelstrom spinning out of control inside of me.  Maybe this isn’t what He meant when He said to come away.

Perhaps it is not a physical place He calls us to.  Perhaps, His rest also comes in the middle of the busy marketplace, in the traffic jam on the freeway, in the heat of a disagreement with a colleague, or spouse, or parent.

Perhaps the quiet place is not a room we can manipulate into a restful locale, with comfy chairs and soft music,  but it is a place where He still calms the storms and asks us to trust Him.

Tonight, in this quiet place, I’m saying with that dear soul who needed His help all those years ago, “Lord I trust You.  You’re going to have to fix the part of me that doesn’t.” 

Like His friends who thought they were going down in the storm, I trust Himquietingthestorm enough to shake Him awake and believe He can still quiet the wind and waves.

If He will, I’m certain that He can.

It’s enough.

Time to rest.

 

 

 

 

Rest, and be thankful.
(William Wordsworth ~ English poet ~ 1770-1850)

 

For thus said the Lord GOD, the Holy One of Israel, “In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.”
(Isaiah 30:15 ~ ESV)

 

 

 

 

© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2015. All Rights Reserved.