Rest (Inspired by Tim Keller)

It was almost like a summer afternoon. Sun rays beat down on the little beach community and fleshy red seeped through squinty or half-lidded eyes.

I love the feel of it on my skin. Maybe it's a secret thrill over the right sort of skin to ward off cell-killing cancers.(I get an image of some lone African sojourning across the Sahara desert with melanin as his only provision). Maybe it's like the book about the boy with a magical control over plants. Like him, I want to dig my toes in the dirt and turn my face towards the sun, leading a simple life. Photosynthesizing and putting down roots.

The sun makes me think of God's presence. I make sure not to get home too fast.

I can see the white truck parked in front of one of the bright-colored condos. The driveway glares and sends up shimmery waves but there's a truck-shaped spot of shade. A yellow dog sleeps, a ball of furry fat contentment under it's gas-guzzling refuge.

I liked the look of that dog. Straight chillin. On a different day I would envy it. I could picture it, busy with dog things earlier. But when it got hot, aha! The perfect place. All requirements for bliss fulfilled by a white pickup.

My mind seemed to demand a bit more.

Some days I go to sleep anxious and wake up still dreading the day ahead. Hmm. Dreading: the process of hair locking up into dreadlocks. The deadlines and standards I worried about only seemed to lock up further during the night. I thought they would un-dread the night before. Instead, I dreaded. Twisted. Straightened, tossed and turned. My mind was still tangled in the morning.

Life usually seems like a test. Sometimes I do alright. Or at least no one notices what's not. The holes appearing in the backpack I can't be bothered to replace or the chipped paint on my toenails. Compliments on a project that I improvised that morning. The corners I cut, distracted by something more interesting, seem to work in my favor.

Other days my the lack of preparation blow up in my face. It's obvious and painful and I wonder if everyone can see me for the mistakes. Like a sign on my forehead: Just a hot mess.

But no easy shade for me.

It's there if you look.
Hebrews 4:9 Says There remaineth a rest for the people of God. Am I the people of God? I'm trying.

No, you're not supposed to try. That's your problem. Grace, silly.
Each day I make a thousand little impulsive decisions that demonstrate... what? Power, Love and self-control? No. Fear of failure and lack of discipline. So what?

"

Step 1: Admit you've failed the trial.

That, I can do. My faults stick out to me, frustrate me. I feel at a loss on how to change them.
And the deeper sin is that throughout my day, worrying pointlessly or avoiding assignments I am missing something vital. I am not loving the Lord, my God. I short-change my neighbor, not fully present to anyone for the sake of the ought-haves.

2. Accept Jesus' record instead of your own.
In the eyes of the only One who matters, I'm not simply a whiny procrastinator who often takes on everything and accomplishes little.

I'm a beloved child. One who often works with his hands, doing every task honorably and to completion. Even going as far as to take every failure upon Himself and experiencing restlessness beyond what we could imagine, so I could have rest. Rest in his forgiveness.

Like shade in the heat of the day.All of us, at some level, feel that our lives are a trial and that we have failed to measure up. A person becomes a Christian when they admit that they have failed the trial and when they accept Jesus’ record instead of their own. Only then can they truly enter God’s rest."