My Yoke

This past week I celebrated six months of living in Hungary.

I am shocked at how quickly the time has gone. I remember that first night, pulling the blankets around my face, overcome by the smell of my childhood, tears leaking down my face as I realized the seemingly irreversible decision to move here.

I think back to those early days of public transportation, the first Saturday in the city, and the terror of having to speak Hungarian.

I think about meeting my students on Open House night: the expectancy and the first impressions, the way they looked at me and tried to figure out who I am.

I think about our staff retreat and getting to know my coworkers and friends. I think about our student retreat, and the way those relationships began to develop.

I think about joining the gospel choir, and how my Tuesday nights were saturated with singing, praising, languages, and joy.

I think about Saturday adventuring in the city, sunsets over the Danube, and reading The Chronicles of Narnia to Nagyi.

I think about Christmas with my family, time away from the constant lesson planning of school, and the time to breathe.

These months have been so rich, and the Lord has been drawing me ever closer to Him. In many ways this has looked like exposing insecurities and pride in my life (as moving to another country and culture will often do).

I have also realized how fear constantly ties me down from taking risks, from trying new things, from meeting new people, from speaking Hungarian. The Lord has been ever so gentle revealing these things to me through His precious people.

And then I came across this quote from Elisabeth Elliott:
"Fear arises when we think everything depends on us."

This has ultimately been the root of so much of my fear and worry. It's the fear of committing cultural blunders, it's the fear of misspeaking or sounding stupid. It's the fear of being inadequate and of failing to bring others closer to Jesus, because my Messiah Complex is still an underlying issue of mine.

But then Matthew 11:28-30 tells me something different: "Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."

I've spent many times in the last few months informing God, that His yoke is not easy and His burden is not light.

His response, once again, ever so gentle: My child, you're the one adding unnecessary burdens, unnecessary weight. Learn from Me. Learn from My example. 

So I began to ask Him to take off the yoke I've burdened myself with, and to yoke me to Himself. That I would keep in step with His Spirit.

What yoke would you have me take up? What burden would you have me carry?

As I sat in silence, contemplating this, I thought of Jesus. I thought of the way He sought the Father's presence even amidst exhausting ministry. While He spent His days laboring among people who continually misunderstood Him at best, and rejected Him at worst, He didn't burn out. He found rest in the Father's presence.

My presence. 

I must make His presence a priority. Regardless of how "busy" I feel, I must take time to retreat into His presence.

Trust Me. 

Jesus trusted the Father completely. He laid down His will, taking up the Father's. I want to follow Christ's example in laying down my will, my plans, and my dreams.

Trust My timing.

There were countless times when Jesus avoided situations, or went directly into situations because of the Father's timing. He trusted the Father's timing, and didn't force things to happen outside of His timing.

When I look at this yoke and this burden, there is a definite weight lifted. Because I'm removed from the equation. It's no longer about me, what I can contribute, and what I can do. It's all about pushing my questions onto Him, and allowing Him to deal with them in His timing.  He's big enough to handle my doubts, fears, and questions. And the more time I spend in His presence, the deeper my trust grows.