I’m coming off of a crazy week. Three cities, one week, and about 3 events and a mass of meetings. So I’m a bit tired.
I’ve got a lot of grand subjects in mind as I write, but none of them really seem to hit home. At least not tonight. I want to be honest. I’d rather watch football. Or eat ice cream.
I consider Jesus. Sometimes he’d be out all day healing people. They’d line up at the door wanting something from him—to be healed, to have demons removed, to have their problems fixed. It’s hard to have that feeling that people want something from you all the time.
But he never seemed to tire. He said that he was called for this purpose. He came to heal the sick not those who were well. He always seemed to have this inner reserve, the deep well he could call upon. I know that I’m not Jesus. But that doesn’t seem to be an excuse. I’m supposed to be like him. I’m made in his image.
Even Jesus got away. He got time with the Father. He prayed—all night long. He relied. Oh Lord, teach me the balance of dependence and of finding my rest in you. Teach me to be honest with myself. A generous life is tapped into the source. Without the vine, the branch gets brittle and dry—and not very generous.
Share this Post
Published October 10, 2011