When I was a small child, I hated taking naps. It was torturous for me to lie still during the day no matter how tired I was. My mother used to take a nap with me and she would wrap her arms around me in an immovable grip to keep me still. No matter how much I squirmed and wiggled, I could not break free and eventually I would give up and fall asleep. We would repeat this routine daily and, even though I knew what the outcome would be, I always tried to escape being still. Now that I am older, I wish I would have appreciated those moments with my mom. I wish I would have taken advantage of the naps then for they are rare now!
And yet, I am still struggling against the loving arms which encourage me to be still. True, they are a different form these days. It is my Father, rather than my mother, who embraces me now. Still for my good, still for the purpose of rest and renewal and precious time together. I still know the outcome too. I know that eventually I will come to the point where it is impossible for me to ignore the desolation which my absence from Him has invited into my life. Eventually I must face the exhaustion which restlessness has caused. Eventually I must acknowledge the lonely, unsatisfied, conflicted state of my heart. It is in this moment that my fight to do things my way ceases and I fall asleep in my Father's arms.
My life relies on those patient arms. The ones that hold me daily while I put up my futile fight to hold on to my agenda. I don't deserve His enduring consistency. My distracted heart is not a fitting response to His faithful one. Just as with my mother, I expect that one day I will understand what I lost in those opportunities to rest in His embrace. But, beautifully, these opportunities are unending by the reality of His grace. He is teaching me that His arms are ever open, His heart the same.
