We all long to belong—not only to fit in, but to be wanted, chosen, and known. For many of us, that kind of belonging felt out of reach. Shaped by our parents or others doing their best while carrying pain of their own. We learned to read the room, to hustle for love, to be whatever someone else needed. Somewhere along the way, we began to believe we had to earn love. Being seen as worthy was something we had to prove.
I recently renewed my passport. It had expired, and my name had changed since the last time I used it. As I flipped through its pages, I was surprised by the flood of memories – trips taken with my ex-husband, moments filled with laughter and shared dreams. Back then, I imagined a lifetime of adventures together. Divorce wasn’t part of the plan. But life doesn’t always follow our plans, does it?
Rest is when we cease from striving. Our hearts are restless until they rest in God our Savior and Sustainer. Living his way renews us physically and spiritually, and provides a foretaste of eternal peace. It seems as if everyone wants a break these days, some way of finding rest in a supercharged world of frenetic activity. Our obsession with screens, diversions, distractions, and our demand for variety in food, drink, and apparel often leave us uneasy. From pot to propranolol, psychic practices, Prozac, and pinot grigio, we are trying to cope. For many, rest is reduced to the absence of activity or a break from work. For some, rest is viewed as a commodity to be consumed rather than a state of being to be cultivated. For others, the word implies laziness, idleness, and pursuing pleasure at all costs. At the end of all our work and all our rest, there remains a deep restlessness in the human heart.
For almost a decade, I’ve wrestled with faith and experienced crippling doubt. For a whole year, I woke in the middle of the night, my heart pounding and mind racing. In the early morning, I would sit in darkness, crying out to the Lord to give me relief and help me experience the peace I knew only He could provide. And, while I felt temporary relief, the anxious thoughts and uncertainty over the security of my salvation were always present like an uninvited guest that wouldn’t take the hint to leave.
I reached into the dryer to fold towels, but to my surprise, they were all damp. I checked the vent. It was clear. Hmm… I turned off the breaker, but still no heat. Annoyed towels would remain damp overnight, so I did what every diligent homeowner does: I went to bed. The next day, when the repairman suggested we try the breaker, I said, ”Yeah, I tried that last night, too.”