resting

Denise invited us to come see her new rental after church today. It's out on the Tulalip Indian Reservation, on a bluff overlooking Puget Sound. Partly she wanted to show us her new home, but partly she needed help with a speech she's giving later this week--a speech to a large gathering of kids at a Youth Meth Summit. It's difficult for Denise to even think about her daughter's murder (at the hands of eight men, all drug-affected at the time)--let alone write or speak about the details. So she wanted some help.

We always take two vehicles on Sunday mornings because Dave leaves the house at the crack of dark o'clock to go pray and read over his notes. So after church, we left the school parking lot and caravanned west with his truck in the lead. I knew the general direction of Denise's new place, but I couldn't have found it myself, not even if you'd offered me a giant bucket of Godiva chocolates to do so. (I would have tried, mind you--oh, how I would have tried.)

It occurred to me, following Dave along windy Marine View Drive, that by taking the lead, he freed me up. He could have handed me the little slip of paper on which Denise had written the directions, but he didn't. And because he didn't, I was able to talk to Tera about Sunday school, sing along with a song or two on the radio, and enjoy the curve of the road and the green of the trees and spotty glimpses of Puget Sound between the brush. I didn't have to worry about street signs or landmarks or mile posts or anything at all. He did all the worrying for me.

That's really the secret of resting. Keep watching the One in front, the One who knows the way, the One who sees around corners. It's not our job to find the way--it's our job to follow. I'm convinced we'd all be less stressed and less fretful if we just kept our eyes on Him. And we'd likely enjoy the scenery along our journey a bunch more than we do.

Today's a great day to talk about resting. It's the day God set aside for us to do just that. I hope you spend this day in a blissful state of un-worry, trusting that God has all things under control. I like to think you're taking a nap, or reading a book--or simply sitting by the fire with a bucket of Godiva chocolates. If that's the case, please save one for me.