Thursday, March 29, 2012

Rest for the Weary

I had never known weariness until PA school. By definition, weary means 1. physically exhausted by hard work. 2. mentally exhausted by exertion. 3. impatient or dissatisfied with somethingYes. To all of the above. Sure, I've been tired before. I've been through some rough experiences but nothing like this battle. This semester has been unbelievably difficult, physically sick, mentally drained, ready to give up and go home. Sleep is minimal. Social life is non-existent. Beyond weary. 

Jesus said, "Come to me, all who are weary and heavy burdened and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” In the stillness, when I take time to close my mouth and listen to His sweet reassurance, my purpose is clear. I cannot survive this by my own strength. When the waves are rising and I start to feel my head go under, when my cup is dry and I have exhausted all reserves, my natural instinct is to paddle harder or try to tap into a new well. But the weariness continues to grow until the moment of surrender. Flat on my face, without an ounce of strength left, I come begging for renewal. I wonder what God is thinking as I try to climb my way out of the trenches time and time again when He can easily lift me out. He is my respite. He is the source of rest. His compassion is overwhelming. I know my call. I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. 

"Of course He's not safe. But He's good."

Friday, March 9, 2012


Earlier this week, on Tuesday, I saw Mumford and Sons at the Ryman. Basically a dream combo, one of my favorite bands at my favorite venue. The night didn't quite go as planned. I have no idea what was going on but lets just say there were forgotten lyrics, a coughing fit, and some possible pukage from Marcus. From everything I've heard, he's a quality dude and I honestly felt really bad for the guy. 

Fast forward to last night when I got an invite to a secret Mumford afterparty at the Basement. Its a tiny and intimate joint and I've never seen a bad show there. I really wasn't sure how/if we'd get in but figured it was worth a shot. We were turned away because we lacked credentials or a password and definitely were not on the guest list. One last ditch effort and some possible divine intervention, we managed to get in. There was a tiny crowd with all sorts of industry recognizables. We definitely did not fit in. 

The music was incredible, the dancing was non-stop, the atmosphere was electric. Marcus, Ben, Ted, and Winston just wandered through the crowd like anyone else there enjoying the show, chatting and thanking friends along the way. Genuine, humble, quality guys. Mumford redemption indeed. I'll spare you all of the details of the night, but somewhere around 3:30 am, I found my way home and struggled to fall asleep, still reeling from the magic of the night. Surreal, a night I never wanted to end.