I Am Restless

My friend Carrie has restless legs.
Pretty much all of me is restless. (So there, Carrie.)

Do you feel restless too? I wonder if it’s middle age, motherhood, or too much caffeine. I wonder if it’s unrealized dreams, a full calendar, or not enough exercise.

I can take all the pieces of my life and try to rearrange them. I can consider my priorities and recommit to self-care. I can pencil in “margin” on my calendar to walk in the woods. I can try to talk to God in the car instead of white-knuckling it the whole way. And I can study my sleep and my self-talk.

And maybe if I strike a perfect-yet-fragile balance and hold my breath…rest? Maybe I will feel rested and restful and at rest.

But, deep down I know that the restlessness has so much more to do with my insides – it’s not the demands and the stimuli of life as much as it’s my heart.

When I asked God for guidance, He led me to this verse:

So we see that because of their unbelief they were not able to enter his rest. – Hebrews 3:19

I didn’t want this verse. I wanted something about love and His goodness toward me, but I kept stumbling over it and getting goose bumps.

What if restlessness, or a lack of rest, was related to unbelief?!

If the ancient Israelites couldn’t enter His rest – a physical place in the Promised Land – because of unbelief, wouldn’t it make sense that I couldn’t enter a state of rest and peace if I was also unbelieving? I was a believer in Jesus but was I believing Him today for whatever I was facing?

Note to Self: Unbelief is sin.

It doesn’t feel like sin. It feels like I’m a victim of worry: fears running wild, a need for control, and disappointment in unanswered prayers.

But unbelief means I’m not trusting God to be and do as He says He is and does. (Reread that twice, I had to too.) It happens almost imperceptibly: the heart is tired of being tender…it starts to harden as we list out doubts and accusations: “God can’t…God won’t…God doesn’t love me.”

Most of us recognize the danger of a hardened, impenetrable heart. It doesn’t even try…so it won’t be disappointed. When I stop believing He is who He says He is, my unbelief starts to build a wall between me and God.

Lies about God, even if they feel true because I’m exhausted with the waiting, need to be confessed. I think of confession as an open turn: I open my mouth with the truth and turn my heart back to God. 

“Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!” – Mark 9:24b

I don’t know about you, but I feel so light and free once I have confessed a sin to God. If you’re not that familiar with confession, resist the assumption that it will bring along guilt and shame – it’s very much the opposite.

In Matthew 11:30, Jesus tells us that His yoke is easy and His burden is light, meaning that He wants us to be un-burdened. When we confess our sin – even the run-of-the-mill worries and fears – we’re giving Him the weight and He welcomes it.

And so, this restlessness of mine that crops up regularly and with force is something that I have started to recognize as a sign: my heart is growing hard.

Author Jackie Hill Perry admonishes, “To walk opposite of what has been revealed and affirmed as true, is to put stone back over an enfleshed heart.”

Tender ❤️ = Belief

Hardened ❤️ = Unbelief, Self-Protection

Over and over again, I have to confess: “Lord, I believe, help my unbelief!”

And so, while I wish for a week in a hammock on the beach, I moreso wish for a heart at rest, a heart made tender by confession, and a renewed desire to believe – despite my unbelief.

Take care, brothers, lest there be in any of you an evil, unbelieving heart, leading you to fall away from the living God. – Hebrews 3:12