Where Is Our Rest?

Sometimes the struggle is a restlessness in the voice of ambition or anxiety: "If I do not write the perfect paper, I will fail, the perfect lecture, I will not get tenure, the perfect blog, I will be criticized." "If I don't have lunch with this friend, right now, I will be alone and friendless the rest of my life." But sometimes restlessness is a voice from deep within, a sense that I will not be myself unless I do precisely this--write a poem, teach a class, walk in the woods. Whether they distress or inspire us, voices of restlessness cannot be ignored.

Our restlessness is like the mysterious stranger who wrestled all night with Jacob before blessing him with a new name, Israel. When we wrestle with that stranger, our own restlessness, God also gives us a name--a vocation, purpose, a call that pulls the energy of our lives in particular directions. God's lure on our respective lives is like a magnet, and restlessness is the lifelong aligning of our own "iron filings"--the many minutes of our time, energy, and attention--to that magnet. As St. Augustine confessed, "Our hearts are restless until they rest in thee," in God.