Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30
What do you do when you’re all too tired to go on? I looked around the dinner table tonight and wondered. There were ten of us seated around our dining room table ranging in age from 2 months to 93 years. The cast of characters included the new mom and infant, the cancer survivor, the mother-in-law recently released from the hospital, the three guys who had spent the day emptying an entire household into a U-Haul truck, a couple of children and myself.
I wanted a nap and a couple of hours to myself but I wasn’t even close to the top contender for most likely to deserve a moment of rest and gift certificate for a spa treatment and massage. I had not spent the day moving and lifting boxes, or nursing a hungry infant every two or three hours (after being up all night nursing a hungry infant every few hours), or cleaning and re-creating a safe environment out of a home that had become a tripping hazard. Still I yawned.
So I wasn’t a top contender, but I had cared for a bunch of people, listened to people all day long, done laundry, a grocery run, meals, clean up and more. And my work wasn’t even done. The kitchen was still a mess, laundry not yet finished and a few people needed tucking in. Not to mention preparation for tomorrow.
It never ends. The work, I mean. I’ve reached the age where a lot of my friends are retiring. They put in their time, saved, made wise choices with finances and work is over. But how do you retire from life itself? What do you do when people are your retirement fund? What do you do with old people who need care? Little people who want books read? Infants who need to be held? Growing teen boys who need food and preteen girls who need time?
Every bone in my body wants to run away to the beach and read a book on the new beach towel I was given for mother’s day. At the other end of the table, my husband yawns and stretches tired muscles. He is exhausted and sore, yet his task will end. The boxes will all get moved and unloaded, the U-Haul returned, job over. Fatiguing but finished. My task, nurturing, seems endless, like the sand on the seashore, uncountable, uncontainable, unconquerable.
The image of another man flashes into my head. He is not perfectly kempt or fashionable. He is dirty and tired and bent over. He knows what tomorrow holds, yet his tasks for this day are not finished. Patiently, lovingly he reaches for a towel, not a beach towel, and begins to wash the feet of a friend.
It is not his job to do, according to worldly standards, but He does it. He does not complain, does not make the others feel guilty about it, does not make any mention of escaping to the beach for a vacation; he sees a need and he fills it. The need is uncountable, uncontainable, and for anyone else, unconquerable. Using just the towel, even He could never wash away all the dirt, all the stain, all the sin. But using Himself, offering His whole self, He will wash away the sin and shame of all the world.
Thankfully Jesus did not abide with worldly standards. In truth, it was His job. All of it, from the foot washing to sacrificing Himself. No matter that a servant should have been ready to wash everyone’s feet, no matter that a king would never have stooped to do so low a task, no matter that even His friends refused to do the job, Jesus would do it. No matter how tired He was or how inappropriate the task or how hard the task, Jesus did not shy away from doing what was in front of Him.
I take a deep breath. My task, no matter how monumental it seems, is still my task. It is my job to do. And it does not compare to what Jesus endured and accomplished for me. And Jesus did not have air conditioning or a dishwasher or pain medicine.
I look back at those I love around the table. Young and old have needs. I have needs, but I also have strength. And ability. For now. I am grateful for that, and renewed by the idea that Jesus never gave up, never ran fully away. He did get away, to spend time with His Heavenly Father, to renew His spirit. The answer before me, I realize that it is not time at the beach or time sleeping that I need, it is time with God.
Time with God will not be easy to find; the faces around the table assure me of that. But time with God with strengthen me for each day, so making the time must be my first priority. In Matthew 11 Jesus tells us to “learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” I have much to learn, but I desire this light burden, so instead of pushing my own agenda I will run away to God in the quiet of the night when the others breathe in and out in a pattern that signifies sleep. Rest for my soul sounds like real rest.
When I first met the 93 year-old lady who for the last 40 years has been my mother-in-law, she taught me a good bit about cooking and baking. One of her gifts to me was a cookbook that included a recipe for Fudge Jumbles. Filled with oatmeal and chocolaty deliciousness, they bring sunshine to days that have been filled with a few clouds.
Fudge Jumbles
- 1 cup butter, softened
- 2 cups brown sugar
- 2 eggs
- 2 tsp vanilla
- 2 1/2 cups Gold Medal Flour
- 1 tsp baking soda
- 1 tsp salt
- 3 cups quick cooking oats
Cream shortening and sugar together in a stand mixer. Mix in eggs and vanilla; stir in dry ingredients. Add oatmeal and mix until well blended. Pat 2/3 of the oatmeal mixture into the bottom of a well greased jelly roll pan, 15 1/2 x 10 1/2″.
Make chocolate filling as follows:
- 1 package semi sweet chocolate chips
- 1/2 tsp salt
- 1 15 oz can sweetened condensed milk
- 2 Tbsp butter
- 2 tsp vanilla
Mix chips, salt, milk and butter in the top of a heavy saucepan. Melt together until smooth, stirring well. Do not boil. When smooth add vanilla. Spread over the bottom layer of oatmeal batter. Dot with remaining oatmeal mixture. Bake at 350* for 20-25 minutes. Do not over bake or they will be hard.
