Our world idolizes working faster, longer, and harder, lifting up frenzied lifestyles like a golden calf to be worshiped. How early we rise, how late we stay up, how many hours we log-in defines us. We own our success letting it lift high our esteem; we own our failure letting it label us as lacking. An unhealthy obsession to prove we can manage drives us to volunteer to fill every need. It enslaves us to hosting Pinterest worthy parties, designing home decor, and creating hand-made treasures. It demands time, attention to detail, and energy that requires an I.V. line of pure caffeine to support.
We wonder why we are tired.
For nights, we labor in vain, tossing and turning, unable to close our eyes lest our fears are recognized while we slumber. We work hours before the sun rises and hours long after the sun sets unwilling to honestly depend on the Lord. We forgo the Sabbath, rejecting God’s design for real rest. It doesn’t make sense to our flesh: How do we work one less day and still accomplish our tasks? How do we tithe one-seventh of our time and energy when we need every last bit to simply maintain the status quo? Rejecting the impossible math, our tired head hits the pillow, but our eyes fail to close. Our minds still spin, plan, design, budget, and justify.
Oh, Lord, forgive my foolish heart. Anxiety proves that I still do not fully trust You as my provider. Disobeying the Sabbath is an outward symbol of self-reliance. An inability to peacefully rest illustrates a fretful heart fighting you for control. I will only lay down and sleep when I believe with all my heart that You hold it all. You are building the house. You are watching the city. When I embrace that truth, I will sleep and enjoy the rest of your beloved (Psalm 127:1-2).