Tag: surrender to his rest

Does life ever feel like one big battle? Maybe it’s a health problem or a family issue. Maybe you’ve lost a job or just can’t manage to pay all the bills. Maybe you have so much on your plate that you’re simply overwhelmed. Perhaps you’ve reached the place where you just don’t have any fight left in you.

Some years ago, our family moved from Washington, DC to Oxford, England in order for my husband to pursue a degree in Theology. Our children were four and two, and I was already struggling with autoimmune disease and anxiety. We knew that the move was right. God had removed every perceived obstacle and clearly shown that this was his path for us. But it didn’t make the transition easy.

I was excited about jumping into life in our new home, and I used all my energy (which wasn’t much in those days) becoming involved in our children’s school, our new church, and my husband’s college. I joined the school parents’ committee, I led a Bible study at the college, my husband and I led a church small group, and I even started a two year Theology course. I was determined to experience as much as I could in the three years we were to live in Oxford. But I was miserable.

Every single day was a battle for me. My body never allowed for a day without pain, and it didn’t help that I lacked the physical or emotional strength to manage a strong-willed toddler. I tried my best to appear to have it together; but at home with my cup of tea, there were countless hours of crying out to God. I stood on God’s promises and wielded my sword against the attacks of the enemy day after day, but I had nothing left.

I remember the day I reached the end of my fight. Leaving my cup of tea on the kitchen table, I walked into the dining room, fell first to my knees and then to my face on the greenish-blue rug. In my hand I held a small wooden cross. I ran my thumb over its smooth surface and sobbed. That was all I could do. In that moment, I raised the white flag of surrender. I did not surrender to the disease or the despair, I surrendered to Him. I knew it was the only way.

Eventually, I lifted my head and looked through the glass door that led to garden. A beam of golden light illuminated a single vine growing over the garden wall. I knew in my heart that God was speaking to me. Abide in me. I am your rest.

The truth of John 15 took on new meaning to me that day. I couldn’t expect to do anything on my own strength, which was a good thing as I had none left.

Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. (John 15:4 ESV)

If we are truly to be his branches, then our very existence and everything we do depends upon the vine to which we are attached – and Jesus is the vine. As 19 th century South African pastor Andrew Murray observed, “The life of the branch is a life of absolute dependence…deep restfulness…much fruitfulness…close communion, [and] absolute surrender.”

It’s not that any of the things I was doing were wrong. Certainly we all have gifts He wants us to use. But He also wasn’t expecting me to prove anything to Him or anyone else through my constant busyness. I wasn’t slowing down long enough for Him to touch my heart, even as I cried out in pain.

Suddenly, I realized I didn’t need to fight any longer. The battle was not mine. It was His. I had His permission, even his mandate, to rest. He wasn’t disappointed in me for not being stronger, and He wasn’t requiring me to sort myself out. All He wanted was my heart. As I watched the sunlight dance upon the dangling vine, I understood that I belonged to Him and in Him, and His comfort flowed through me.

It was still some time before my physical symptoms improved, and I continued to struggle with anxiety, but something changed that day. I no longer had to waste what little strength I had in fighting a battle I couldn’t win. I had discovered the source of true rest. I began to understand that He goes before me and faces my enemies. He is my victory!

I love the words of David in Psalm 68:

“When you, God, went out before your people,
when you marched through the wilderness,
the earth shook, the heavens poured down rain,
before God, the One of Sinai,
before God, the God of Israel.
You gave abundant showers, O God;
you refreshed your weary inheritance.” (Psalm 68:7-9 NIV)

You and I are God’s inheritance, and He delights to go before us — fighting our battles, refreshing our weary hearts, and giving us rest.