It was a battle, a feat to get out the door to church that morning. Everything in you screamed to stay home, to stay where it was safe under the covers, but you went anyway. Late, of course, you snuck in the back hoping no one notices the mess you know you are.
Your heart is longing for the acceptance, for the peace that comes with security.
You are not as good as you should be, a quiet whisper brushes past you.
Our clothes may be neat, our homes may be tidy, but our minds hold a mess of doubts and questions. Am I accepted? Am I safe? Is there something I still have to do, what can I do??
You are not as good as you should be reverberates inside your head until it makes its way to your heart, taking hold of you.
But we must not believe it. We must fight against it... This lie.
But fighting does not look like working. There is no good work you can do to gain the security and acceptance we long to have. There is no work you must do before you can rest. That is not our fight to win.
Fighting looks a whole lot like resting.
Because it is.
Fighting... faith... It is a resting.
We rest in the unchanging, never stopping, always and forever love. We rest, lavishly soaking up the security and love of our Father.
And in our resting, we gather up our friends to come with us.
Come and rest, we confidently say. You are more loved than you ever dared to dream.