If you would ask me if God speaks to me in dreams or visions I would probably say no. I’m not that kind of person, haven’t had that kind of experience. But at least once, I think maybe I did.
I was twenty and trying to figure myself and God and the world out. Trying really hard. I really, really wanted something to hang onto, something good and real and solid–all that I thought I knew about God and life, how did I know it was true? And if it was true why wasn’t I happier? What was this hunger inside me, this discontent with life as I knew it. I wanted God to show up, to shake the heavens to let me know he was there (and then tell me the three steps to being happy and good). I didn’t know it yet, but I mostly wanted to know if he was good enough to trust.
I was at a three week winter Bible school and one of my classes and teachers in particular was stirring up hunger and questions. I was talking with him one day, I have no idea of the context or any of the rest of the conversation; I remember just one thing: “Bethany, you find God in your place of rest.” And my mind flew to my bunk, the one place that was mine on the tiny campus in the middle of nowhere in the Ozarks. I pictured myself lying down, reaching under my pillow–and there was God. He was in the place I had been resting my head all along! And then I saw another picture. Saw me out on the rough hills in the dead of an Arkansas winter, raking through the dry leaves with my bare hands, bloodying my fingers digging under boulders and around tree roots, calling and crying and searching. Alone and frantic and with no sign of being any closer to what I was looking for. I knew that was how I’d been living and searching. And God showed me I didn’t have to.
It was only a moment. And I didn’t think at the time that might have been a vision from God, I never thought that until this year sometime. But it’s been ten years and I’ve never forgotten it. And I’ve never been the same since then.
God is found in my place of rest. Life is found in rest. Becoming human happens after rest.
To be free, to be whole we need to learn how to truly rest. Rest our bodies. Rest our minds. Rest our spirits. I can’t give you a how-to on that. There is no three-step process. It has something to do with trust and truth and vulnerability. A lot to do with the goodness of God and the world being a safe place because God is here, in every single breath and star and boulder. He is here.
And I know it doesn’t feel like it. You’ve been hurt, and it doesn’t feel like God was there. You’ve tried really hard and your life imploded anyhow. You’ve done horrible things and it feels like the damage is irreparable. But I stake my life on knowing that God is here and good, and that someday ALL that’s bad will no longer be. I believe that because I’ve experience tastes of it. There’s much wrong in the world and in me and I don’t understand, but there is goodness that has done miracles in my life, the wrong and hurt have been undone and I am alive in new ways.
And it is there I hope and rest.
Is it ok if I cry a little sometimes when I read your stuff? Because I am.
This is so rock-bottom foundational. And so good. So freeing. We think we need to get out there and make things happen, and He says simply, “Come to me, all you who are weary, and I will give you rest.” Goodness. What an invitation! I needed the reminder pretty badly today. ☺️
Thank you,Bethany, this was what I needed!! Blessings!