Invited to Dinner

Hard summer, in parts. Several times I just burned out. So many challenging things, with so much pressure I place on myself, of my house, work, girlfriend, lifegroup, future. I sometimes felt like I was eternally pouring out. So many good, beautiful things, so many gifts from God. But still I grew burned out and exhausted. The very things I felt called to I deeply felt incapable of executing. And then I noticed sin creeping in. I started feeling a twinge of bitterness towards those in leadership over me, and towards those I love. Growing suspicious of particular friends, pride over others, anxiety and selfishness- all while trying to do so much good. What happened?

I was praying about it the other day, praying though my bitterness towards one friend/mentor in particular. And in discussion with one of my roommates, a thought crossed my mind. I was growing bitter largely because a great desire of my heart lay unfulfilled.  Deep down, I yearned to be invited over to dinner. I longed for someone older, wiser, someone I respect, to invite me over for dinner with their family. Someone who requires nothing, needs nothing, asks nothing from me, who is entirely stable without my presence, but still invites me in. Someone who seeks me out for the love of me, and serves me. Someone with whom to walk, to find comfort, to learn.

And the more I've thought about it, the more it's true. I long for the freedom of love that pursues me, the freedom of love that requires nothing but offers peace, rest, security, help. Love that invites me over for dinner, just to have dinner, and be with me.

And I knew something further, as soon as I recognized this unmet desire.  I knew that what I desired was exactly that which Christ offered.  Wasn't that the love of God? Inviting me to the feast of a lifetime, of an eternity? A Father that ran from the porch to me, a Son who condescended to my lowly attic room, a Spirit that applies grace over and over again onto the gaping wound of my remaining iniquity. Am I not offered that freedom? Am I not pursued for me, by a stable One who needs nothing in Himself, but Who still loves beyond reason? Am I not invited to dinner, to rest, and sit, and be safe.

I have not felt His pursuing love, in a large way, for a while now. I have not perceived His hand, nor His heart, nor His Spirit in more than little, day-by-day ways. Is it necessary to feel it? No. The Truth is not founded upon my experience. Yet I long to feel Him, to know Him, to experience His pursuit and to be fully freed therein. Like the Psalmist writes,

“As a deer pants for flowing streams,

so pants my soul for you, O God.

My soul thirsts for God,

for the living God.

When shall I come and appear before God?b

My tears have been my food

day and night,

while they say to me all the day long,

“Where is your God?””

My heart is the chief accuser in these seasons. “Where is your God?” And I respond, “I am not sure. But I know where He's been. In the garden, on the cross, in the church. At Awanita in 6^th grade, at camp in 2008, in my car talking with Joseph in 2011. He was there.” Remembrance is a great weapon of faith.

But so too is rest. Spending time sitting, drinking tea in the morning instead of rushing to get some Bible reading in before a frantic bike to the cafe to start my shift. Even biking to work instead of walking [which I sometimes do to make time to pray for folks], so that instead I have time to rest and be at peace.

I find a juxtaposition there, between doing what I am called to do and resting as I must rest. I don't know how to fit them both into a world where 'the days are evil', and time is short. But I hold to scriptures like Exodus 14:14, in which the Lord fights for His people as they rest in silence. Or like Isaiah, in which returning and rest is indeed our strength. How to fit that in to an increasingly busy schedule? I need prayer for that. Practically, I have to cut some things out. I'm learning. And I'm finding that I still often trust my abilities over the work of Jesus to make me clean and make me able. I'm preaching the gospel to myself again, as I have to do so many times. And trying to make time to sit, rest, receive- time to participate in the dinner to which I've been invited.