The Invitation

by Morgan Breitling
Worship Coordinator/Operations Administrative Assistant

Matthew 11:28 (ESV) — “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.”

Jesus doesn’t say, “Come to me, but only if you’ve got it all together. Come to me, but you can’t be afraid. Why would I want your mess? I only want the very best—the ones who are perfect…never worry…easily trust me…always have a clean home…well behaved kids…exercise every day…never say anything offensive…”

What he does say is, “Come to me. Bring your heavy hearts, your burdens, your mistakes. Cast your cares on me because I care about you. Let me give you my peace and light in exchange for your weariness. Lean against me, feel my heartbeat. I love you simply because you are mine, not because of how good or impressive you are. Let me care for you.” (See also 1 Peter 5:7.)

Social media is flooded right now with so many posts and ideas suggesting how to make the most out of this Covid-19 situation: We should eat healthy, spend quality time with our families, exercise, create, bake, clean. The list goes on. None of these are bad—in fact, they’re all quite beneficial. However, we aren’t to disregard our emotional states. We are living in an uncertain, scary time in history. It’s okay if life at home doesn’t look ideal.

I face a great deal of anxiety on a regular basis, and I’m finding myself staring down even more anxiety and grief every day as this pandemic unfolds. It causes me to freeze, worry, and forget to drink enough water.

But Jesus doesn’t ask me to sort all of that out on my own and come to him only when I’m joyful or steady. He doesn’t condemn me for my concern or the heaviness I feel. Instead, he offers an open invitation to sit with him. To lean closely against him. And if distraction pulls me away, he still doesn’t condemn me. If I react out of my fear and sadness, he doesn’t revoke his invitation. If time with him doesn’t look how I think it should, he doesn’t say I’m unwanted the next time. His arms remain open, always willing to embrace me when I run to him.

He extends this to all of us, regardless of how well we are handling the situation at hand or our emotional, mental, and physical reactions to it. All we must do now is accept the invitation. Let’s sit in his mercies that are new every day. Let’s lean into his grace and love for us.

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