“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” Matt. 11:28-30
Dear Jesus, this passage is many things to me. It’s precious because of what it teaches us about your heart. It’s comforting, because you free us from feeling guilty and “unspiritual” if we are weighed down with weariness and burdens. It’s hope-fueling because you promise and provide a rest you alone can give.
But I’ll add another reason I’m grateful for it this morning. It’s always timely and context inclusive. As you know, last night for me was flat out humbling, scary, miserable, and gut-wrenching—literally. I don’t remember ever having food poisoning before, but if I have, I probably blocked out the memory and trauma.
Here’s what was dear to me, however, Jesus. As I was helpless and powerless to control my body’s violent reaction to “unwelcome intruders,” I was drawn to pray for the tens of thousands of children and elderly in Turkey, Syria, Ukraine.
They aren’t merely suffering a 10-hour bout with food poisoning. They are in circumstances of death, dying, powerlessness, and helplessness not measured in hours… but in months, years, and decades. Jesus, how do we pray, engage, care, and help in response to such overwhelming tragedy, loss, and darkness? It overwhelms us.
We dare not dull our hearts, mute their cries, or simply long for your return (which we do.) Show us, lead us, help us to offer your caring presence, and your gentle and humble heart. So Very Amen.
