I woke up before the alarm, crawled out of bed. Put my contacts in puffy eyes, promising them some more sleep when I returned. I poured my cinnamon tea into a travel mug (ignoring the coffeemaker’s lure of more caffeine), grabbed my journal and devotional, and headed to my morning Adoration hour with Jesus.
I was exhausted. The type of over-tired where everything makes you cry, but you’re too tired to even cry.
And the worst thing was that it was my own fault. I choose what fills my calendar days. I allow the busy-ness to infiltrate. I let the prayer time, the quiet time, lapse.
Doing too much. Not doing enough. Thinking too much. Being thoughtless. One by one, the burdens piled up. The guilt.
And because I was displeased, I thought Jesus must surely be displeased with me, too.
The lies we believe.
But His promises are louder.
Come to me, all you who are heavy and burdened, and I will give you rest (Matthew 11:28).
Be still and know that I am God (Psalm 46:10).
He commands us to come. Even, or especially, when we are weary or burdened or sinful. Not because He dismisses our mistakes or excuses our sin. But because He is Jehovah Rapha, the God who Heals. Because He is a loving God, a saving God, a sanctifying God.
He doesn’t ask that I come to Him with everything under control. He just asks that I come to Him. Period. And give Him control. Being open, humble, trusting. That He may work in this messy heart and make it more like His.
So I approached the throne and knelt before this God Who never ceases to amaze me. Empty, sinful, and weary, I came to Him. I ignored the whispered lies that He didn’t want me there with all my imperfections because He has said otherwise (Mark 2:17).
I gave Him my messy heart with its sins and faults and failures.
And He gave me His unconditional, indescribable, life-changing love.
What an exchange.