I’d been learning about God’s Finished Rest, a place where everything needed has already been provided. I’d heard it’s not an easy place to get to but it’s where you want to be for the best life possible, or for the greater life which is what I was hoping to find. My experiences in Restville confirmed much of what I had heard.
Getting ready to go on vacation has always been stressful for some reason. This time was even more so because I needed to see that my mother would be taken care of while we were away. Though she’d become quite dependent on me for her survival, she was still living in her home as she had always wanted. As Dementia slowly rendered her unable to remember how to do things she’d done all her life, I began doing them for her. Two or three times a week I’d go over to do chores around the house, drive her where she needed to go, and prepare her meals. I’d put meals on plates in the refrigerator ready to warm up in the microwave, which she was able to do. Other days I’d call to check on how she was doing.
When the time came for me and Jim to plan our annual vacation I struggled with whether or not to go. It wouldn’t be a problem to call my mom every day while we were away but who would prepare the meals and do what she needed around the house for seven days? The more I stressed over the decision the more I felt the Lord encouraging me to leave it all up to Him. But how? It felt so irresponsible to go off and leave my mother with no one but God to take care of her. Finally, in frustration, I told God, “I can’t just go off and leave my mother to starve!” That’s when I felt the Lord say something that spoke volumes of where my faith was at the time. “Do you really think I’d let your mother starve?” He said. It left me stunned, not knowing what to say. This is the same God that dropped Manna from heaven and quail from the sky to feed the Israelites in the desert. Even though I knew the amazing things God did in the Bible, it was still hard for me to imagine how He’d physically take care of my mother’s needs in this day and age. Although I couldn’t understand how it would actually happen, I decided to trust God and see how He’d work it all out.
The next time I was at my mother’s house her neighbor dropped in for a visit. When I mentioned our plans for a vacation she insisted I allow her to check on my mom while we were away. One of my friend’s insisted the same thing. I also received information for a caregiver service that had a one-hour minimum. Other times when I’d checked into in-home care services they all seemed to have a four-hour minimum which my mother wasn’t comfortable with. She did agree to a two-hour stay which I thought would work out great for the meals and chores. Before I knew it all the help my mother would need was lined up and Jim and I were able to get away, rest, and have some fun without worrying about my mom.
When we returned from Restville I was reminded of another commitment God had been encouraging me toward starting way back in Commitmentville. We’d been attending our church for fourteen years and hadn’t officially joined. Though we were active in the church, learning, growing and serving, I never could see any added benefit of being a member over what we already had. When I questioned the Lord He said it was the difference between living together and being married. From that, I understood that commitment helps you stay through the tough times.
Our church had gone through some tough times, as many had during the recession. The staff had been reduced to the bare minimum and many in the congregation had left because of it. And after the senior pastor was asked to leave many others left hurt and angry. It was hard to see the church where I’d come to know God being dismantled and to see my friends leaving. Despite all the sadness and uncertainty, there was something I’d heard in one of the meetings that had me excited and wanting to stay. It was the reason the elder board gave for letting the pastor go. They said they didn’t want to, that it was really hard, but they couldn’t go against what they knew was the Holy Spirit leading them to do. That’s when I got excited. I thought if God is the one making the changes in our church then something really good was coming!
The search for a new lead pastor had come to the point in the process for the congregation to meet the final candidate. No one said anything about having to be a member to attend the meetings so Jim and I did. And that’s when my lessons from commitmentville came into play. At the time the candidate was pastoring a church in another state so we met him electronically via FaceTime on the big screens. To let us know how serious he was about leaving his church, friends, and even some family behind, he told us he was “all in” if we decided we wanted him as our pastor. That got me thinking, and on the way home I said to Jim, “That pastor isn’t even here yet and he says he’s all in. We’ve been here fourteen years, can we say we are “all in?” After talking about it, we decided to go ahead and take the required steps to become members of our church. We had received the paperwork but decided to put it off until after we got back from vacation.
After vacation, I began to have the same doubts I’d had all along. “What difference would it make to join?” again I wondered. And again strong encouragement came from God. Sunday at church the pastor delivering the announcements said, “I don’t know why I feel I should say this, but I need to say ‘I’m all in’ for someone.” As soon as he said it I knew it was for me. God was telling me to follow through with our church membership. So we did.
Just as I’d heard, God’s rest was a struggle to get to. But I learned that when I commit to stop trying to figure everything out, it allows God’s wisdom and power to work in my life. And that’s when everything I need just shows up instead of me having to hunt it all down. As simple as it may have seemed at the time Restville turned out to be the beginning of a new leg of my journey that would teach me more about God’s finished rest, what makes it possible, and what keeps me from getting there.
To be continued . . . see Graceville
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