Good morning…
“I come to the garden alone while the dew is still on the roses,” a song stirs in me after yesterday’s post, In Her Rose Garden. “And the voice I hear falling on my ear, the Son of God discloses. And He walks with me and He talks with me, and He tells me I am his own. And the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known.”
Sung at church as a child, this simple song first introduced me to the word tarry. To tarry means to linger, to stay longer than expected, to not have an agenda, or to encounter God’s presence for an extended period of time. Rest. Remain. Stop. Stay. Lag. Linger. Poke. Pause. Dwell. Dillydally. To tarry with Jesus requires carving out time, space, singleness of focus.
I wonder to myself, “To tarry with Jesus, quietly walking and talking through these first early morning hours, is this a luxury? Is this a lifeline? Is this a lifestyle?” Deep in my soul I sense, “All three.” Luxury. Lifeline. Lifestyle.
“Because the Sabbath isn’t just a twenty-four-hour time slot in your weekly schedule,” writes John Mark Comer, author of The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry, “it’s a spirit of restfulness that goes with you throughout your week. A way of living with ease, gratitude, appreciation, peace and prayer. A way of working from rest, not for rest, with nothing to prove. A way of bearing fruit from abiding, not ambition.” (172)
“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly” (Matthew 11:28-30, NLT).
For the next few minutes, I invite you to tarry with Jesus and me, as together we enjoy an acoustic rendition of this soul-filling song.
…Sue…
