Find My Rest : Grace Park
Matthew 11:28 (ESV)
28 Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
I remember the first time a man broke my heart. I was only four years old and already understood what abandonment felt like. I remember waiting for him, treating every day like it was the night before Christmas. My mother was torn. I remember she went to early morning prayer without missing a single day. She always dragged me along. I was super cranky, until one early morning, I heard a whisper. I usually slept next to my praying mother on those sanctuary benches with velvet stitching, but one morning I woke up to the sound of my mom crying. I tried to get her to open her eyes but she was so deep into her prayer. After several ignored attempts, I decided to go down to the cafeteria and get her muffins or tissues or anything to stop her from crying. Heading out of the chapel, I was so heartbroken and couldn’t help but think, “I wish Dad was here to cheer her up.” Suddenly, the softest presence enveloped me. I turned to see if someone had mistakenly brushed up against me, but it was obvious that what I felt was not another’s touch. I remember this experience like it happened yesterday –the comforting touch of warmth and peace that spiraled all over me. I was so overwhelmed by tranquility and assurance that I shed a tear. This was my first interaction with God.
Not a lot of people know this story. I find that whenever I do share it, people doubt the authenticity of it because I was seemingly too young to comprehend anything. I may have been just four years old, but I knew instantly I was experiencing heartbreak. I remember how it swallowed my mother whole and how empty our days felt. Ever since this quarantine began, this memory has been nudging at me. It has been difficult to understand why. I thought for the longest time God was a neglectful God. For all my life, I’ve suffered from issues surrounding my identity, anxiety, depression, PTSD, and a sense of purpose. A part of me believed that God enjoyed seeing me entangled in all this pain. I couldn’t hear God’s voice and if I did, I thought I was going crazy. I guess I’ve been waiting for a more powerful sign to show me that He is indeed speaking to me. During that first interaction with God, He promised me an eternity of rest and He called me “daughter.” Somehow along the way, I had forgotten that Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. The only answer is found through Him. He is neither a punishing God nor a neglectful one. I believe that God is reminding me of how good He is and reminding me to hold onto His steadfast love in the midst of this quarantine. Just like how He remains faithful to us, it is now our turn to prove to Him that we can turn to Him during these trying times.