Come unto me all you who are weary and heavy laden

 

My dear friend, Fern, just came for a visit as I sat down to write. I met her and her companion at the door to the church. She greeted me with a shy, uncertain, “Who are who?” She was concerned that she might be taking up too much of my time. She said to her companion, “This might be mean for him?” We assured her it was not mean but welcome, very, very welcome.

Fern doesn’t remember many things these days. She didn’t remember the church, though she attended here her entire life. She didn’t remember the setting, or the organ, though she played it for us most of her adult life. She didn’t remember even how to turn and sit on the elevated organ bench. But we turned the organ on and encouraged her to play anyway.

She was hesitant. I activated one of the preset keys that gives life to the upper register of black and white keys. She gently laid her hands and spread out her fingers. And she began to play. And she kept playing. Not from memory as much as from heart. “What a Friend We Have in Jesus,” followed by some strains of “Amazing Grace,” and just now, “Jesus Loves Me.”

There are wonderful things that settle deeply in us that nothing and no one can take from us. They are more than reflex because of the meaning that accompanies them. They are not mere memory because they defy the fading effects of the passage of time. They have been formative, guiding our development as persons, molding what perseveres of who we are.

For some, like Fern, these fundamental building blocks of personhood are tied to faith, and worship, and the joy of a lifelong relationship with God, her Creator, Savior, and Sustainer. He has been her Rock in the shake ups of change, her Shelter in the times of storm, her Light in the dark nights of the soul, the Lifter of her head. Jesus has been her Companion and Friend, her Courage, and her Strength. She has come this far and He has never left her, and deep, deep within, beyond the reach of dementia and advancing age, she knows Him and that He is true.

That God loves her and gave Himself for her has been built into her as surely as every cell in her body has been built from the DNA from which she comes. And God has built her, is building her even now, on an unshakeable foundation of divine faithfulness and human trust. She does not remember me, but she knows Him. Every touch on the organ keys a few minutes ago proved it all over again.

Each of us has something at the very heart of us that forms us. For some, it is faith and joy and confidence and hope. For others, it is different. There is brokenness, sorrow, pain, injustice, misunderstanding, lies (some told us by others, some we tell ourselves), wounds which will not be denied even when they are.

Some are molded by hurt into people who hurt and who live to hide the hurt or ease the pain. I have good news for you. Jesus said, “Come unto me all you who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” He was not speaking of physical labor or weariness, but of the weary soil that labors to overcome . . . or hide . . . or fight . . . or run.

Jesus offers forgiveness and a new heart, a new life through faith in Him that comes without the burdens of guilt and shame that plague the human heart and stunt the development of authentic joy we were created to know and love. He does not demand you fix your heart and bring it to Him, He invites you to come in faith, and He will fix your heart. Each month a member of the Cook County Ministerium will offer Spiritual Reflections. Pastor Dale McIntire has served as pastor of the Cornerstone Community Church in Grand Marais since April of 1995.