When my soul craves rest,
I find it in God.
He puts together
The pieces of my life.
He’s a sound foundation
And steel girder construction.
No earthquake can take me down.
(Everyday Psalms, Psalm 62, page 141-142)
It’s such a relief to hold out my hands and say, “Here you go,” handing over to God the things I’m trying way too hard to do something about.
Rest is essential to life. Without rest, we die. We must stop if we’re to keep going.
God built rest into his very good Creation. The first holy thing in the Scriptures isn’t a thing, it’s a day. God sanctifies the seventh day and rests on it. Yes, God himself rests.
Does God need rest like we do? No. At least, he doesn’t need rest to restore him because he’s tapped out. But in a way, yes, God does need rest. Because rest restores the relational nature of our lives. Rest ensures we do not become defined by what we do. Without rest, our striving might be ceaseless and the relationships we derive our identities from might be neglected and wither. God does not rest to restore a weary body. God rests to enjoy relationship.
God’s rest is invitational, holding out a hand to us and asking us to join him in it. Sabbath is the weekly invitation to be more by doing less. Our Lord saves us from slavery and refuses to enslave us himself. There is rest with our God.
But our culture and our egos can drive us like slave masters. And we get so tired. Our bodies groan if pushed too hard or too long. Our minds fall to pieces and our emotions with them, our thinking and feelings scattered from lack of rest. Our relationships strain if we’re always trying to get stuff done.
It’s easy to import out striving into our praying, to pray with an agenda, with goals, to get God to do stuff. And that’s OK as a beginning point. We start where we start. But the act of prayer is ultimately inactive. It’s no wonder we come across people falling asleep during prayers in the Scriptures. I had a friend who fell asleep during my prayers night after night. And another friend who fell asleep during his own prayers! As impious as that may seem, I have a hunch there was something good and appropriate in the prayerful slumbers of my friends.
Prayer can settle us and slow us. Prayer can silence the noise. Prayer can make space to breathe, to relax, to rest.
When I rest, I remember God is God and I’m not. I am intentionally and actively passive, choosing to receive from God as I stop trying to acquire for myself. I open up my hands and let go of whatever it is I’m grasping.
The simple posture of opening my hands in prayer is itself the prayer of resting from striving. The clenched fists are relaxed. The hands are open and ready to receive. And whatever had been clutched by my fingers can now slip through them as I relinquish whatever I had a hold on, whatever actually had a hold on me. Not only that, these open palms now become an expression of self-offering — no longer holding onto what was in my hands, I cease holding back myself as well. And as I hold out these empty hands in prayer, I inhale deeply and exhale more completely still. Relaxed, all tension and striving released, I rest and am ready for God.
Prayer: God, I find myself running around, trying to keep up with the pace of life and falling behind all the time. It doesn’t matter how hard I try or how fast I go, I just can’t keep up. My body, my mind, my emotions, my relationships, my finances, my soul — it all gets frayed and falls apart. But I know that with you, there is rest. Pull together the piece of my life so I can stop running around. Give me sleep. Give me rest. Calm my anxious heart. In Jesus. Amen.