“Come to me all who labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest.”        Matthew 11:28 

I am walking on the beach at Tybee Island with my husband, teenage son, and daughter. It is August 2007. We are waiting for sunset this late Saturday afternoon. I am listening intently on the phone as my sister's best friend Carol quotes this scripture passage. She is telling me that my sister, who has been throwing up for three days as her body rejects the nutrients she has been receiving through a catheter during this last-ditch effort to prolong her life for just a few more months, has claimed this scripture as her comfort. 

First, let me tell you, I am not the person who talks on the phone when I am with other people. I pour all my attention into the people I am with. But this was a major exception. My sister was Jewish. My sister was dying. And now, in the space of four days, my mother, and now Kathy’s best friend both were telling me that Kathy had accepted Jesus as her Savior.

Carol, who was Kathy's comedic sidekick from their days in college, had spent Friday night with Kathy at her house. Her body could no longer fight the cancer that had left her emaciated, connected to tubes, in a hospital bed, under the care of Hospice with no hope in sight. Carol, in desperation, asked Kathy if there was anything that could bring her comfort.

Kathy directed her to a glass cabinet in the dining room. On a shelf, in the back was a bible. Surprise number one. It was a Christian bible with the new testament. Our Aunt Olive had sent it to Kathy 8 years before when Kathy’s husband had left her. There was the card from Olive – who had passed away several years before -  and throughout the bible were passages of comfort Olive had underlined. Kathy directed Carol to Matthew 11:28. Carol read it to her. And then looking at her to make sure she understood what they were reading, she said gently, “Kathy, those are the words of Jesus.” Kathy said, “I know. I have accepted him as my Savior.” Surprise number two.

Sunday afternoon I would receive the call to come to Tampa as quickly as possible. Monday, I would make the long drive to arrive by my sister’s side who was now in a Hospice facility, heavily medicated against the constant pain. It was a long three weeks as we waited for death. That seems like a ridiculous statement unless you have been there, waiting.

There were a few precious times when I got to hear for myself Kathy's new thoughts about this Jewish Son named Jesus. Those are stories for another time. But let me tell you this: every single time I hear or read or say these words, “Come to me all who labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest,” I feel the tears, I bite my lip, I choke back the sob.

“Come.” It is a simple invitation. It is not complicated; it is not heavy.  But it is most certainly personal. It is an invitation to a person, the very Son of God. “Come to me…” “…and I will give you rest.” Rest. What a holy and precious word. It is so holy and valuable that God set aside an entire day for His own rest - and then surrounded it with laws to protect it for those who came to him. 

Rest. My Lord and Kathy’s Savior called her to step out from underneath the pain and striving – because he had something so much better. I am betting that whatever hard and heavy load you are carrying; Jesus offers you the same. Come rest. 

This song was the Loving Father’s invitation to my dear neighbor and friend Hannah An to “Come Rest”. It is an incredibly beautiful reminder that we can only find rest in Him.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=VsiZSHxxVLg&feature=youtu.be#dialog

This passage of Scripture was brought to me through The Church of the Apostles Women of the Word 2021. They encourage memorizing & meditating on Scripture to help you in your journey to write God’s Word in your mind and heart. To download weekly scripture verses:

https://apostles.org/women/womenoftheword/