My First Jubilee

During Christmases growing up my mom had a favorite story she would read aloud to us every year. We always knew it was coming and with it we always knew she would cry as she read. We began to tease her in anticipation of it, but I think it almost became a tradition where it didn't feel quite like Christmas until she had read that story. It was called The Jubilee Agreement. It tells the story of a mother, full of exhaustion, working out with her husband The Jubilee Agreement, where in she gets to take one week off every seven years and go somewhere and travel and come back a refreshed and rejuvenated version of herself. The short story follows some of these jubilees in her life and is really quite sweet. 

The last four days I have been able to have a Jubilee of my own of sorts. I left on my own for the first time since becoming a mother over seven years ago. It came after a whirlwind season of extreme transition for our family. One I realize now I haven't talked about in this format yet. The short of it (I'll save the long for another blog post) is that Nathan accepted a new job north of Seattle which resulted in us selling our home in the Olympia area and moving closer to his job and all of our family. The reasons and the results of the move have been good, but the transition has been hard as anyone who has ever moved with children might know. I was at my end. Exhaustion mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually - all were becoming glaringly obvious to those closest to me. I was not functioning well. 

Thankfully this trip had sort of been on the books in pencil since mid summer. Once the fatigue really set in I made it a true plan. I spent the last few days with a few different friends exploring the Portland area, and ending with resting in the Olympia area with some other friends with long doses of solitude as well (although if I am honest I probably would have planned more solitude). 

I have reflected quietly on all that God has been putting in my heart during these days away from the normal routine of my very full life. The step back has been what I needed to see just how much I have been operating in my own strength, with poor result. I have been living without the peace I am freely offered in return for the surrender of my burdens. Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we trade rest and peace for the false sense of control over what we mostly have no control over? I've spent too many days in the last few months spinning in circles, finding myself exhausted with all that I feel responsible for and desperately wondering why I feel so alone in it. 

"But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you. Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid." Jn 14:26-27

What a promise to rest on! We have a Helper. He does not give as the world gives. What he gives is better. A rest for burdens, a joy for sorrows, life for death, peace for fear...but what do we choose to take from? His hand which offers freely, or the world which makes us fight for the idea we are capable of being self-sufficient?

"You and I think that the burdens we carry today are about the circumstances in our lives - our fears, our friendships, our families, our fears. That's not untrue, but friend, would our earthly burdens feel so heavy if we stopped to acknowledge His provision for our eternal needs? Our everyday burdens are reminders that we were not designed to shoulder any of our burdens in our own strength, in fact, we were meant to let Jesus carry them on our behalf." - Ruth Chou Simmons, Gracelaced

My prayer as I enter back into my routines of family and the transitions still occurring is that I would be able to more easily surrender my burdens to the one who is better at carrying the load than I. I want to trust completely, not holding on to control for the sake of knowing how something will be completed, but trusting Him to finish what He has asked me to give Him. 

What burdens do you need to surrender in exchange for rest? What fears do you need to offer up in return for the greater peace He gives?