Rest

I've been reading a book called The Rest of God by Mark Buchanan. In a nutshell, it's about restoring Sabbath, as an attitude and stillness of the heart. Jesus said, "Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest" (Matthew 11:28). It's about giving our hearts the rest God longs to give us. The following excerpt is perfect for me tonight–a reminder to be thankful, of God's Sovereignty and of our need to be still.

"In Prince Caspian, part of C.S. Lewis' Narnia Chronicles, the children Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy all find themselves in Narnia after a long absence. Aslan, the great king and lion, is nowhere to be seen. Lucy, the youngest of the children, particularly aches to see him. One night she wakes to a great stirring in the forest, and to a voice calling her. While the other children sleep, she ventures forth through the woods and into a clearing. Here's what happens:

A circle of grass, smooth as a lawn, met her eyes, with dark trees dancing all around it. And then–oh joy! For he was there: the huge Lion, shining white in the moonlight with his huge black shadow underneath him.

But for the movement of his tail he might have been a stone lion, but Lucy never thought of that. She never stopped to think whether he was a friendly lion or not. She rushed to him. She felt her heart would burst if she lost a moment. And the next thing she knew was that she was kissing him and putting her arms as far round his neck as she could and burying her face in the beautiful rich silkiness of his mane.

"Aslan, Aslan. Dear Aslan," sobbed Lucy. "At last."

The great beast rolled over on his side so that Lucy fell, half sitting and half lying between his front paws. He bent forward and just touched her nose with his tongue. His warm breath came all round her. She gazed up into the large wise face.

"Welcome, child," he said.

"Aslan," said Lucy, "you're bigger."

"That is because you are older, little one," answered he.

"Not because you are?"

"I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger."

That's a perfect description of those who train themselves in God's goodness and sovereignty: every year you grow, you find Him bigger.

The best way I know to embody this Godward orientation is thankfulness. Thankfulness is a secret passageway into a room you can't find any other way. It is the wardrobe into Narnia. It allows us to discover the rest of God–those dimensions of God's world, God's presence, God's character that are hidden, always, from the thankless. Ingratitude is an eye disease every bit as much as a heart disease. It sees only flaws, scars, scarcity. Likewise, the god of the thankless is wary, stingy, grudging, bumbling, nitpicky. He's by turns meddlesome and apathetic, suspicious then indifferent, grubbing about in our domestic trifles one moment, oblivious to our personal catastrophes the next.

But to give thanks, to render it as Scripture tells us we ought–in all circumstances, for all things, to the glory of God–such thanksgiving becomes a declaration of God's sovereign goodness. Even more, it trains us in a growing awareness of that sovereign goodness. You cannot practice thankfulness on a biblical scale without its altering the way you see. And the more you do it, the more you find cause for doing it. Inherent in a life of thanksgiving is an ongoing discovery of God's sufficiency, His generosity, His fatherly affection and warrior protection. "To the faithful," David said of God, "you show yourself faithful" (2 Samuel 22:26)."

Isn't that great? Tonight, while we are yearning for physical rest on the tail-end of a holiday, I am reminded of the kind of rest He offers us. The stillness that is vital for our beings. I'm also reminded of the attitude of thankfulness that should remain fresh in our hearts. I love the part of the excerpt that says Lucy "never stopped to think whether he was a friendly lion or not. She rushed to him. She felt her heart would burst if she lost a moment." Sometimes it's so hard to just trust–trust that God is who He says He is, trust that He is sovereign, good. Lucy felt like she might burst if she lost a moment–I want that feeling all the time, reminds me of the newness of a relationship! A challenge for myself (perfect for the new year): to see God as Lucy saw Aslan, bigger and bigger, to try my best to be thankful in all things and to find rest in Him–He is trustworthy & good.