“Grab your books, boys. You need heavy coats. Hurry, we’re late. Isaiah, the dog has your shoe,” I say. I shove my arms into my jacket, a balancing act, trying not to spill the coffee that will fuel me.
Hurried chaos. It’s the sound of the morning.
Life has been busy. Full. Today, before-school piano lessons kick start our wild run. We’ll close out at the swimming pool at nine tonight. This is our usual pace, but now that it’s December, the normal crazy will be pressed fuller with holiday events.
We’re blessed with an abundance of good things. But this good abundance can keep me from time with the Lord.
I think back to the last time I had a deep quiet time. A meaningful time in the Word when the Lord spoke into my life and His Presence refreshed my spirit. Three days ago? Last week? I understand that the fatigue I feel today is because I haven’t rested in Him.
So often I trade daily bread for daily grind and wonder why I’m weary.
As I herd children to the car with a tone too sharp, too hurried, I think about Jesus. Fully God yet fully man, He must’ve grown weary. Teaching. Preaching. Healing. Crowds coming close. His heart was compassionate–He reached into the lives of the hurting.
But He also pulled away to spend time with the Father.
He retreated to become refreshed.
But he would withdraw to desolate places and pray. (Luke 5:16, ESV)
Jesus’ example is powerful in my life, and time with the Father isn’t something that I can do without. It’s the sustaining foundation. It’s anchor-grace. His Word reaches soul valleys and places gone dry and prayer pulls me to the Father’s heart.
As we bolt out and into the garage, I understand that I cannot rush into the fullness of my day, of this season, without rushing into the fullness of Him.
It’s the only place true rest, peace and joy can be found.
Lord, forgive my busyness. Thank you for drawing me to you. Amen.
