{#TellHisStory} Come to Me

Honestly, I planned to link up Monday's post about how I feel like a boat stuck on land when I don't rest with the other storytellers over at Jennifer Dukes Lee's blog. But then I wrote this while waiting in the car line at my girl's school this afternoon. It's really like a Part 2. Letting go helps the boat sail like it's meant to.



All I could hear was the instrumental music and ocean sounds that alternated over the speaker. I left my phone that had been a buzz the past few days with chit-chat texts with friends, phone calls about this lake house and that lake house, emails about one of my magazine assignments and those other various projects and ideas I have brewing. My to-do list was out of sight and out of my mind. People I trust were educating and caring for my kids.

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and felt the massage therapist begin working on the knot on the upper left side of my back. And the one nearby closer to my neck. And the one other the other side of my spine. And the one that often irritates in my upper left arm.

All of the burdens I carry seemed to be stored in knots in my shoulders and upper back. I live a blessed life. I really have no complaints, yet I do complain sometimes because I over think things, pile on perfectionist tendencies of wanting to do it all right now, and pour out everything I have without resting in between.

Are we disciplining and training Ben in the most effective way?

Are we helping Cate focus on what's really important in life?

How can we show them Jesus more?

Why didn't I check my attitude at the door? I really was so glad my husband came home, yet I snapped instead of rejoiced.

Should I have said those words differently? Did I say too much? Not enough?

Could I do something more? That friendship seems so out of sync, even though we both keep trying.

The massage therapist knows there are knotty parts of me deep down. Layers of issues, she said last time, which was months ago. She may not know me, but she helps me. As she works, I think about the song that has been on repeat in my mini van and my head ... Come to me when you're weary and I'll give you hope when you're hurting, I'll give you rest from your burdens ... 

It's truth. Straight from the mouth of Jesus:

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

{Matthew 11:28-30}

I keep leaving a trail of those things and thoughts and expectations that burden me. There are some on the front porch. And there are some surrounding that massage table. I want to leave more on my doorstep.

And there are many that need to go to the cross daily. "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened ..." He's got the burdens. "I will give you rest." He died for them -- the ones we are long past, the ones making our shoulders hurt now, and the ones we've yet to experience. "... you will find rest for your souls."

I walked out of The Retreat and squinted my eyes as they adjusted to the brightness. I felt relaxes and loose and ready to face the next things before me. Just like that, it feels good to let the knots be worked out and let go of the load.
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I'm linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee and many other storytellers as part of the weekly #TellHisStory. If you've read much around here, you know I'm attempting to embrace imperfection this year. This is clearly part of the process. 

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