The Land of Rest

Rest met me at his gate.  I rolled down my driver’s side window as he tipped his cowboy hat.

“Howdy, there. Good to have you here.” He welcomed with a toothy grin. “Pull around to the cottage over there.  I’ll meet you on the front porch.

I did as instructed and soon met Rest at the cottage.  He held a tray with two glasses of ice-cold lemonade and motioned me to sit on the porch swing.  Classic.  This is the Rest I knew.

“So, I hear you have some questions for me?”

I nodded swallowing a delicious sip of lemonade.  “I want to know who you really are - how you really work. “

Rest smiled.  I think he was enjoying our visit already. He leaned back in his rocker putting his hands behind his head, “Who I am and how I work, hmm?” He looked out on his land. It appeared to extend endlessly to the left and right of the cottage. 

“Is this what you do?” I asked watching him rock, sitting on his front porch sipping lemonade.

“Partly,” he leaned forward folding his hands in his lap. “These are the Sabbath lands, the outer limits of the land of rest.  Here you find physical rest.  For some it looks like sitting on a front porch sipping lemonade, for others it’s a meal with their family, a nap, sleeping in, a walk through the park...  Your Father knows your body needs rest.  A people who rest reveal the glory of God."

“The outer lands?” I questioned looking over my shoulder to more and more land behind us.

“Welcome to the house at the front gate.” He handed me a hat, and motioned to two horses tied up in the field directly left of the house,"Shall we?”