Rest.

I'm tired.

I'm the kind of tired that shows up on your face. In moments of where did those lines come from? And when did I start looking my age? I'm supposed to be perpetually 25.

This kind of tired really has nothing to do with the heaviness of my eyelids or the aches in my body. My heart is tired. My mind is tired. Life is good, but life is complicated. Because, well, the world is complicated. The world is imperfect and is full of imperfect people.

That's the recipe of life - 1 cup of good with a pinch of complicated and a heaping tablespoon of imperfection.

And that's okay. Jesus Himself told us what to expect from life:

In this world, you will have trouble, but take heart! I have overcome the world.

John 16:33

I'm tired. I need rest.

I don't mean hammock by the ocean rest, either. (Although, if anyone is offering this, I will not refuse. Private message me later.)

I need the kind of rest that calms my heart and my mind. The kind of rest where my soul, the very most inner part of me, takes a big breath and acknowledges her Creator.

Jesus tells me I will have trouble in this world. But He also tells me He has overcome it. He tells me to take heart! Which literally means to be of good cheer.

This cheer we should have isn't something we can create inside ourselves. God has to supply it. Isaiah 30:15 tells us this:

This is what the Sovereign LORD, the Holy One of Israel, says: 

"Only in returning to me and resting in me will you be saved. 

In quietness and confidence is your strength."

The only way I can cure my aching, aging, this-world-is-one-monkey-short-of-a-barrel-crazy is to return. When I return to my God and find rest in His holy, loving, perfect presence I see clearly that Jesus has overcome the crazy. That He has overcome the imperfect. I will come and sit in His presence. I will be quiet, knowing I need only to be and listen and feel loved. And I will be confident that this is enough. That God will take care of all that I need.

Because here my soul turns upward toward it's resting place, it's home.

I'm still going to be tired. My bones and brain and boy-raising heart need to make peace with the fact that this season of life is putting wrinkles on my face and gray in my hair.

But every day I turn to Him, the One who has overcome, and I whisper, "I'm so tired."

Then another whisper comes back in a burst of love and peace:

Then come, dear one. And rest.