“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”
— Matthew 11:28 (ESV)
Driving down the road, I inhale, taking a deep breath, then exhale. My nerves scream, feeling frayed and on fire from battling constant obstacles. Most mornings are the same: get up, get dressed, fight with the children to get dressed, wrestle said children into the car, and go. Every. Single. Morning. Why can’t everyone just do as they’re told? Life would be so much simpler without constant obstacles to hurdle.
Yet days are full of obstacles, aren’t they?
Obstacles that frustrate and come in forms we can’t control: strong-willed little people, ailing parents, work responsibilities, and daily tasks that need tending. Then there are the ones we can control—tasks we say yes to without letting go of others. Before we know it, our schedule is so full we can’t hear ourselves think. Daily life, at times, feels like a heavy blanket of unescapable burdens.
Is life always supposed to feel this way? Is rest even possible?
I continue to drive but I just want to escape. I long for quiet spaces that are disconnected from the mess of life. Everything in me screams, ‘Just STOP.’ If only things were that easy. I know life doesn’t stop. But what if, in the midst of life, I learn to slow down—to pause? In learning to linger I might discover I’m not alone, that there is help when I feel weary and spent.
Jesus invites me to come close.
He whispers to this tired heart, “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).
Learn from me. I will give you rest. Take my yoke.
Christ’s words interrupt my scattered living and frazzled heart to remind me that I’m not in control—He is. Rest isn’t something I can wrangle or take for myself. Rest is given as I turn towards Christ to receive it. Rest comes when I place myself away from myself and hold fast to Christ.
Rest is restoration that is received as I follow Christ’s example.
Christ gives rest, and He IS rest. Christ restores my soul as I learn to trust Him through every curve-ball life throws. Rest is possible, but only if I turn to Christ. A simple truth but an often forgotten one as I run deceived, thinking the world’s problems are somehow mine alone to solve. How many burdens do I carry around daily that Christ never intended for me to pick up in the first place?
If Christ is the solution, why do I wrestle trusting?
Why do I continue battling all the obstacles? A lot of the chaos that drives me crazy is really just my own need to feel in control—to be safely in the driver’s seat. I spend many hours, days, and nights fighting for control. I want peace and security, and I really don’t like struggling. But I’ve found that true peace comes when I release my tight-clenched fists and hand the struggle over to God. He’s the one who anchors me as I face my limitations, admit what I can’t control, and remember He’s in control—ALWAYS.
I’m learning.
Little by little rest comes.
Not by doing more, but by doing just ONE thing—letting go.
I know it’s scary to let go. But how great would it be if we listened to Christ’s gentle call to come, letting go of those heavy blankets of frustration for the rest He provides?
Friend, in Christ rest is possible. There is hope for our weary hearts.
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