Rest is in worship

Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my eyes won’t peep
But sleep won’t come; I’m still awake
I pray the Lord—don’t let me break

Every night I lie down.

I close my eyes.

But not every night do I sleep.
At some point, yes.
At all points, never. 

I can’t depend on my body knowing what to do at night.
My bones beg,
“Sleep! Sleep! Tomorrow is coming. Tomorrow is coming.”

But my mind says,
“I’m not finished with today yet. Let’s read. Let’s listen. Let’s watch. Let’s play.”

Being still physically doesn’t always equate with rest.
It’s not proven dependable for me.
I must search elsewhere.

Yesterday: The phone rings. The nurse does not “highly recommend” that we put our mom in the hospital immediately. She tells me it is so. “Your mom is on the way.”

No time to rest up. When the waters in the calm-before-the-storm are stirred, you move with them. Take a deep breath and plunge in.

I gather some books, her insurance cards, a snack. I switch to auto-pilot and drive. The path is too familiar now.

And I rest.
I rest?

I rest through worship.

I punch the CD knob. Aaron Shust immediately begins leading me in worship to Father. We’ve done this often enough. When he switches from “My Savior My God” to “Stand to Praise” to “In Your Name,” I don’t miss a beat either.

If there’s a sure-fire way to rest my soul, it’s by handing it over. Telling God how great He is. Saying whether I understand or not, I’ll trust. Affirming Him as my strength, my God, my King.

It’s how I “Be still and know” that He is God (Psalm 46:10).
Through worship.

To Him and in Him, I rest.

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My Walks with Him