iampiper

I want to continue with Sabbath rest; I don’t think God will let me leave this for some time, probably because I of all people need it the most. I say that because I feel so busy all the time, and constantly in the need of rest. I have been pulled in so many different directions lately, and have been under a lot of stress, that—in the words of the most famous of hobbits, Bilbo Baggins, I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter, scraped over too much bread (Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring).

Recently, I said, on more than one occasion that I would like to go somewhere alone and sleep for a week. While more sleep would probably do me some good, that is not the only rest that God is echoing in my spirit.

Last time I talked about Jesus healing on the Sabbath, and the persecution He received by the religious leaders. Jesus was fulfilling the purpose of the Sabbath by ministering to these two children of God on the Sabbath.

Jesus restored a man, and healed a woman bleeding for eighteen years. Jesus was astonished that the religious leaders thought about giving their donkey a drink on the Sabbath, yet are outraged that a daughter of Abraham, bound by Satan for eighteen years, should stay that way because it is the Sabbath. (c.f. Luke 13:16).

Consequently, one scholar’s work on the Sabbath so richly reminded me that the man and the woman that Jesus restored on the Sabbath were the only two healings mentioned that did not come to Him. He approached them. Why? Because Jesus knew they would not come to Him on the Sabbath and He wanted to dispel permanently, the pharisaical attitude of the day that withheld the presence of God from His people.

What is the point of having a Sabbath law explicitly for human need, if it turned into a reason for neglecting or postponing human need?[1]
What does all this have to do with finding rest? When we are going through a hard season, which I am and I am sure I am not alone, it is so easy to be immersed in our troubles—our trials, that we forget others. The religious leaders that chastised Jesus were guilty of the same. He was concerned with appearing holy to the people—the needs of the people simply became dust in the wind.

Life can get tumultuous and trying, and though many of our circumstance are of our own doing, we can experience circumstances that are out of our control. We wake up one day asking, how did I get here? How did this happen? The lyrics to Wild Horses by Natasha Bedingfield speak so poetically to how I feel:

I feel these 4 walls closing in
My face up against the glass
I'm looking out... hmm
Is this my life I'm wondering
It happened so fast
How do I turn this thing around
Is this the bed I chose to make
Its greener pastures I'm thinking about hmm

It’s so easy to be caught up in self-pity and discontent with life—but we must not allow that to root in our hearts, or we will be lonely, bitter people.
One of my favorite women, I am always inspired when I hear her speak, is Naomi Zacharias. She penned a wonderful book, The Scent of Water: Grace for Every King of Broken, and she talks about a time in her life that was very dark. The words she composed tore at my heart, as I had to admit I often feel like she described; her life was not the life she wanted. The struggle she was going through—she did not sign-up for.

I heard an interview with her concerning the book. She explains that she launched Wellspring International, a branch of her father’s apologetics ministry, to reach out and help the hurting. Naomi found herself in many countries of the world helping organizations that were reaching out to women and children at risk. She found herself in remote parts of the earth as well as familiar ones. She found so much joy and beauty in the midst of such trouble, the women she met she describes as beautiful and hopeful in the midst of their horrible circumstances. She inspired me when she explained that going into the world to help others didn’t make her ugly situation disappear; however, helping others caused her to forget about her own pain.
I
s that not a part of what Sabbath is about—isn’t that what Jesus did by seeking out those He knew would not have come to Him? Should we not be doing the same?

For six days God filled this planet with good things and living beings, but on the seventh He filled it with His presence. God’s presence is the source of the very blessings of life and happiness promised through the Sabbath. Separated from God’s presence, human life is but a fleeting shadow.[2]

God established the Sabbath also so that we would consecrate ourselves to Him, and spend time in His presence. Jesus wanted to bring back the presence of God by healing the sick in the temple on the Sabbath. We need to stretch out and help others, reach out to others and forget about ourselves, our pain and take the healing touch of Jesus to a lost and hurting world.

Only those who stretch out their hands and offer water to the thirsty discover, disguised among them, Jesus. Only those who trudge up the mountain, willing to grow blistered and weary on the narrow trail, witness his transfiguration. Only those who invite the stranger in to share bread realize they’ve entertained angels unawares, sometimes even Christ himself.[3]

How can I help someone? I don’t have the opportunity or the resources to travel to the ends of the earth like Naomi (though I wish I did). I don’t have resources to donate a well or food. Some days it feels like I am in need of charity, but it is not about me. Jesus needs us to reach the world for Him. I can pray for the sick and for the hurting.

I can’t tell you how to help someone, but I challenge each of us as part of an everyday Sabbath, to ask God to open our eyes, to watch and pray, to show us who He needs us to touch today for His kingdom, to bring His presence back on the earth.

In His rest,

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[1] J.H. Wright, Knowing Jesus Through The Old Testament, (Downers Grove: Inter-Varsity Press, 1992), 207.


[2] Samuele Bacchiocchi, Divine Rest for Human Restlessness, (Rome: Pontifical Gregorian University Press., 1990), 86.


[3]Mark Buchanan, The Rest of God, (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, Inc., 2006), 49.