Joy Gives Us Rest

You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore. ~Psalm 16:11

Have you ever felt at the edge of what you can handle? Wondering if you are actually heading in the right direction, needing just a little time to pause, self reflect, perhaps even reset? I desired rest this past week. My body craved it, exhausted from the hard work of the past months; my aching heart longed for renewal; my frantic mind believed rest would calm the racing ideas. 

Where is your favorite escape place? The beach is my place. The sound of the waves breaking against the sand, the whooshing of their exit again, the salty warmth that sticks to the skin, the sound of shovels shifting sand from one pile to another accompanied with laughter as the waves wash over creations ~ I longed for those sounds over the past few months. The mantra of “Just get to the beach” would soothe my jangling nerves. Pushing through the experiences of this year, in a season of pouring out on paper, setting words in place, seeking to express His truth, I longed for the quiet rhythm for a reset. 

I eagerly anticipated how calm and peaceful this week would be, how delightful to be with my family enjoying our favorite place. I envisioned healing relaxation, quiet contemplation, beautiful scenery.

But it really wasn’t that kind of week. And I began to fuss and wrestle.

I could give you a list of all that happened but in quick summary, we had two major health crises involving hospitals and car accidents. Our rental beach house was a nightmare. A complete nightmare with no working refrigerator or freezer, poor air conditioning, dirty bathrooms that required a recleaning, a ceiling fan whose blade simply broke off, whirling through the air, the list could go on and on. The circumstances were so outside the realm of normal that I felt mildly hysterical. At some point, these will become the funny family stories of lore. But in the moments of this week nothing was funny. Nothing was easy, and nothing was peaceful. 

Misplaced Rest

But God didn’t desert us in this week, nor did He scoff at my desperate desire for quiet and rest. 

He understood I sought a place where my eyes could see new beauty. I longed for a place where my ears would hear the peaceful melody of waves and gulls, my skin would feel the breeze and stop its ruffling, and my heart would settle into a more even rhythmic pattern, calm and serene. 

But I had misplaced my rest. And He began to refocus my heart with tenderness and kindness in the middle of all the chaos.

Rest in the midst

In Mark 6:31, Jesus invited his disciples to rest, beckoning, “Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest awhile.” I have often read that verse and vigorously nodded my head in agreement. Definitely! I need to go to that desolate beach, that mountain retreat, that quiet closet floor and rest with Him for a while. When we look at the context of what was happening when Jesus issues this invitation, we see a chain of events that seem to offer very little quiet space or rest. 

The disciples had just returned from their first foray in ministry away from Jesus. He had sent them out in teams of two, giving them authority over spirits and calling the people to repent. Jesus listened to their stories of what happened, but Mark tells us that so many others were around that they could not even eat. So Jesus led them to a desolate place by boat, across the Sea of Galilee. I imagine the disciples feeling exhausted, drained yet exuberant, trading stories as their boat crossed the water. They probably looked with anticipation to some quiet hours, decompressing with Jesus, hearing his praise perhaps, learning more about what they had experienced and what was to come.  

But on the far shore, the crowd was waiting. Instead of a deserted place for quiet contemplation and resetting, Jesus and the disciples faced the needy masses again. Instead of renewal and rest for themselves, the disciples served the five thousand men baskets full of loaves and fish. And then cleaned up the leftover mess. So where was their rest? Where was their quiet reset, their moments alone with Jesus in an idyllic setting? 

When the miracle was over, Jesus made the disciples climb back into the boat and head out ahead of him. The wind blew against them, making an easy trip a struggle in which they were making little to no progress. It was between 3-6 AM, and the disciples were spent. They had returned from a missionary journey, rowed across the lake once that day, served a massive feast to thousands, and now found themselves stuck in a windstorm in the middle of the lake when all they probably desired was a place to sleep.

Jesus walked over to them across the sea, climbed into the boat, and quieted the wind. Imagine the stillness and quiet after the loud howls of wind, after the clamoring of crowds, after the pouring out on their journeys. The quiet of being with Jesus astounded them, and they worshiped him.

The Moment of Rest

So often we misplace our rest. We decide what will be restful, we envision the environment, the relationships, the moments we believe will bring us peace. But He calls us to place our rest in Him despite the dirty house, broken things, shattered hopes, frightened hearts, or worried minds. Hydroplaning cars and anxiety attacks don’t destroy His rest either.

He promises rest. It just will never be in the places I often want to look. I had no choice this past week other than to run to Jesus. Over and over again, I heard the truth that I didn’t need a rescue, I needed a Rescuer. I didn’t need the soothing of quiet waves or ocean breezes, but I desperately needed the Shepherd and Overseer of my soul to soothe and quiet. He is our Rest. In Matthew 11:28-30, Jesus promises to give us rest when we come to Him. In Hebrews 4:9, Jesus is our Sabbath rest. He captures our gaze, centering our vision on the beauty of His faithfulness. He offers a melody of grace and hope that far surpasses the lilt of ocean waves. He blows peace into our souls, stilling the storms no one else ever sees. 

So I don’t know if your heart craves rest after this week. So much makes me ache right now, both personally and globally. He promises to calm our wildly beating hearts, steadying them in the rhythm of His love. When we begin to recognize the grace extended to us, despite our circumstances, joy leads to a deepening awareness that He is all we need. We can have hope. He is our salvation, He is our resting place. 

For added verses on rest:

• 1 Peter 1:13-14

• 1 Peter 2:25

• Matthew 11:28-30

• Hebrews 4:9

• Isaiah 26:3

• Psalm 4:8

• Psalm 23