JESUS, I AM RESTING, RESTING

Lots of years have gone by since my sister and brother and I sang together in three-part harmony. I remember, though, vividly, the words of the songs we sang. Although the Brock family singers were a special treat in our church services, we quite possibly would not be much of a hit nowadays due to our choice of music. Who would think of three young people singing “Breathe on me breath of God, Fill me with life anew, That I may love what Thou dost love and do what Thou wouldst do?”

Another number, one that stuck with me through my lifetime as a favorite, was, “Jesus, I Am Resting, Resting.” Often in recent years, I would sit at the piano and sing that song and “All Your Anxiety” while Ken sat in his favorite recliner to listen. He would ask specifically for those two old hymns along with some favorites of his that I have written. I would sing to Jesus and tell Him that I was resting in the joy of who He is and that I was finding out the greatness of His loving heart.

Then, Ken was gone. God called him home. Resting in Jesus took on a whole new meaning. It became a whole new learning process. As the days went by following Ken’s death, I went back and forth between the kids’ homes until I bought of place of my own. Although it was comforting to be with them, I sometimes had a feeling like I had been picked up with a giant crane and removed from my entire life with Ken. My relationship with my Almighty God was strong…different, but strong…but I could tell that my body and spirit had suffered a severe blow by the unexpected shock of the death of my dear husband.

Slowly, it dawned on me that my body was hardly ever in the state of rest. Whether I was somewhere good and safe and warm or not, I noticed that my arms and shoulders were rigid. Oh, God, I would cry…I’m trusting You but my body is not!

One night, while staying at Ginger’s house, I climbed into bed and curled up in a ball. In my heart, I went to the awesome throne room of my great God. I pictured myself lying on a cot before His throne. “Lord,” I said, “You are the 'God of comfort' and if I rest right here, You will watch over me and touch me and help me to truly rest. Is that okay?”

As I laid there, I wondered how many other people in the world felt the same way…just needing a place to stop and rest. I “looked” around. A huge courtroom, farther than I could see, was full of people sleeping and resting before God. I smiled, turned around, turned over and went to sleep.

Years ago, when Matt was 12 or 13, he used a thick rope to attach an old massive wood rocking chair to our tractor. I watched him from the kitchen window as he started the tractor, situated the steering wheel so that the tractor would move ahead in a very large circle in our acreage behind the house, and set the speed on slow. Then he ran back, hopped into the rocking chair, and leaned back to enjoy a relaxing ride that went on for a good long time.

I see that mental photograph often. It was a picture of resting. The tractor was doing the work. The rope was secure. I’ve told God often lately that I don’t know what it actually means in tangible evidence, to rest in Him. Matt’s innovative setup comes to mind. “Just sit back and trust Me about where the tractor is going and how fast.” It seems too simple.

Jesus, I am learning moment by moment to rest…rest in the joy of Who You are.