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Now is come the rest of my winter

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Matthew 11:28-30
Jesus says to the multitudes, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."

The poetry of King James and his theologians sounds just right here. Jesus' tone is soothing, encouraging, uplifting. He doesn't need me to go out and conquer the world or heal every disease right now. He isn't pushing me to preach in every corner of the world. I don't have to wash anybody's feet today. At this moment, in fact, he is washing mine.

For nine months I've been on a wacky sleep schedule, delivering papers between 3 and 6 am. So I sleep awhile, get up and work awhile, then sleep again. I often think there have been two days within a 24-hour period.

Since I was 15 I've been working with newspapers: writing, editing, typesetting, delivering, hiring carriers. A deadline every 24 hours defines life for newspaper people. There is not much stopping. Every day goes by in a hurry. Life piles on, piles up, rushes by. My eyes sparkle with energy as I think about it.

But I don't focus on lasting things. I savor the "accomplishment" of meeting a deadline and think I've done something substantial. Maybe I have, but then I might be missing what is more, or most, substantial.

So a couple of years ago I thought I'd like to slow down. Lose the adrenalin, or some of it. Learn to rest. Learn to sit. Discover what it feels like to wait in line patiently, to breathe much more deeply and less often.

In March I retired from the News Gazette. In a week I'll be leaving the 364-days-a-year paper route. I'm not tired exactly. But Jesus' words call me to rest. Wait. Sit quiet and feel his arm around me, or his hands caressing my feet. Running his fingers through my hair. Loving me.

Jesus offers me "rest unto my soul." Closing my eyes for a moment and then opening them again, I say, "Yes."

Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless your holy name. You have done great things, and forgiven all. You lift me out of every pit and crown my head with your love. Your compassion brings grace to the corners of my mind. Because you have touched me I am free from anxiety and bitterness. I am free. (Psalm 103)



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