Tonight I am weary. I want nothing more than to climb in bed and sleep for a week.
“Come to me,” Jesus says, “and I will give you rest.” I want that rest.
In this Advent season of waiting, I am waiting for God’s rest. I am clinging to the promise of Isaiah:
Those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength,
they shall mount up with wings like eagles,
they shall run and not be weary,
they shall walk and not faint.
I want my strength renewed. I want those eagle’s wings, and the stamina to run without flagging, to walk without fainting.
I think of Ben, how my friend Susan, his godmother, claimed this verse for him in those scary days when he was in the NICU at Children’s Hospital, how she envisioned his battered, distressed lungs filling with the breath of the Spirit and his limp little body reviving and his strength renewing.
And I think: God did that. He did that for Ben. All of it.
And I think: God will do that for me, too. He will renew my strength. He will make my spirit soar. He will strengthen me and help me. He will uphold me with His hand.
