Devotional | Resting In God

It’s five in the morning and I’m sitting at my study desk.

I’ve woken early and decided not to waste my time lying in bed, despite the temptation of snuggling under a warm doona for another hour until my alarm plays the melody that signals the beginning of my generally frenetic morning routine.  Despite my sons being older and employed, the presence of autism and ADHD in the house means that one thing I can guarantee is that something will go wrong, usually five minutes before everyone has to depart for the day.

In addition to my busyness as a woman who works outside the home and an autism mum, this year I’ve resumed studying towards a Diploma in Theology. I started in 2022, then gave myself two years off to investigate what following a path of creativity might look like for me. Now I’m back tackling textbooks, online facilitations and assessments. Keeping track of everything sometimes gets perilous, and so these moments of being able to sit in a quiet house that is not yet full of demands are precious.   

I have to answer a question for my studies: What does it mean to me to rest in God? I know what it means to rest in bed, to snuggle deeper into the warm cocoon I’ve built around myself to ward off the suddenly cold June nights. And I know what it means to rest at the end of the day, feet up on the recliner couch, half watching whatever my current streaming service binge might be while I also scroll my phone or knits rows of colour for the patchwork blanket I’ve been adding to every winter for the last few years. Rest stops are built into any holidays I take, except then they look like me painting or composing poems or wandering around taking photos of anything that grabs my interest.

Resting in God is somewhat different, though. Curious what my friends might answer, I posed the question on social media. The responses were varied, but each one touched on a different aspect of resting in Him. They wrote about a place where you can surrender, receive respite, or heal. A space where you can listen to the voice often drowned out by the noise of the world. An assurance you are safe, or loved, or looked after. Somewhere to stop and be restored.

I’ve decided I cannot do justice to the depth of the responses with only a carefully constructed sentence, so I’ve written a poem, which still only manages to hint at the incredible breadth of who God is and the gift of being able to rest in Him. I’ve also included something not asked for: the “why?” of the question. Why rest in God at all?

CONTEMPLATING REST

To rest in God…

To say “I can’t” to the one who can,

even if He doesn’t in the way you wanted.

To hand over control before the crash – or perhaps during.

To pin to the Cross the things that cause pain.

To let God handle the mess in my mind or my life.

To say “I don’t understand” to the One who knows everything.

To trust in the only One who never fails us.

To hope in the One who planned our days

and who sees ahead while we are still bogged down in the ‘now but not yet’.

To breathe in the peace that calms my racing heart.

To pause in the one place where I don’t have to be anything other than who I am,

than who God made me to be,

fearfully and wonderfully,

the ‘very good’ of creation,

designed by Him to be like Him…

so I can return to the world ready for another round.

Time has passed while I’ve contemplated my writing, and the house is starting to stir around me. Water is running through the pipes that pass through the ceiling into each bathroom, meaning soon my husband will emerge, freshly washed and groomed, to make his lunch and head off to work. He won’t leave without coming and giving me a kiss, which, after 30 years of marriage, is still appreciated, even if it disturbs my creative flow.

Not long afterwards, the rest of my family will erupt from their rooms, each with different needs and demands. My time of quiet and contemplation will end. The question for me, and those of you reading my words, is how will we rest in God today? How do we hold onto the promise of peace or protection or restoration in a day that perhaps threatens to pull us apart? Where will we find those little God-moments that get us through? I know what my Facebook friends have said, but I’d love to hear your answers, too.