One morning, after a long sleepless night, I looked toward my bedroom window. My room was still quite dark, but I could see burning rays of orange and red trying to escape through the slats in the shutters. I thought to myself, "Wow, it must be a beautiful sunrise out there." And I laid there in bed watching these bright stripes grow brighter. As I looked away I noticed the stark difference of the dark abyss of the far corner of my room that faces away from the slats in the window. It reminded me of the darkness that had surrounded me the night before as I desperately tried to will my body to sleep. I looked back at the window and noticed the red and orange getting more and more intense as the sunrise progressed towards its ultimate crescendo. Something hit me really strong in that moment: no matter how much brighter and more intense those rays got, and how hard they fought to break into my room, they were extremely limited in the brightness they could add to my dark room- until I took some action. Realizing this, I sprung from my bed and threw open the shutters. I was figuratively thrown back by the intensity of the burst of light that instantly enveloped my room. With the exception of the corners that stood out of reach and direction of the light, the darkness was immediately chased away. For darkness cannot exist in the presence of light, it is immediately cast out. However, as much as that light wanted to burst in and bathe me in its warmth, it was held back by the laws of physics. It could not burst through the slats, I had to open them and move them out of the way. Too many times in my life, I become complacent to lay there and just enjoy the little slivers of light that are lighting up my world, but if I would only get up and open the “shutters” I would find so much more waiting for me on the other side.
“Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest.” The word “rest” has come to have a whole new meaning for me. I used to think of it as “a break” from my burdens. He’ll give me “a rest”. I think a deeper meaning has been hiding here for me to discover it. I picture the Saviors open arms when I read this scripture and I picture an offering. His offering. He has given me so, so much to be grateful for. But if I will come unto him, open up my shutters so to speak, He will give me “the rest” of all He has to offer. That is what is waiting for us. And it is so much more than we could ever imagine for ourselves.
And that sunrise WAS even more spectacular that I had imagined from the confines of my comfortable bed.
I’m so grateful for “the rest” that is available to me and my family.