Yes, my soul, find rest in God; my hope comes from him. Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken. My salvation and my honor depend on God; he is my mighty rock, my refuge. Trust in him at all times, you people; pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge. Ps. 62:5-8 (NIV)
Heavenly Father, nothing compares with the peace we have, born from the certainty of your love for us. No more wrestling with “he loves me, he loves me not”—for we now live in your permanent favor and unwavering delight. Jesus is our Sabbath Rest and our Year of Jubilee—our mighty rock and loving refuge.
Our honor and hope come from you, Father. They’re not based on what people think or say about us, or determined by our productivity or usefulness. Indeed, our honor and hope aren’t connected to any scorecard, measuring stick, or annual review. Our standing in grace is inviolate; our rootedness in your love is deep; and hiddenness in Christ is complete.
So, Father, here is our prayer and cry. In fresh and palpable ways, be our refuge, rest, and hope. We want our correct theology to be our transforming doxology—our gospel-informed minds to be grace-enflamed hearts. We want to be freer, much freer. We want to live out of the riches our rest, and less from the restlessness of our stress.
Father, we want to shake off slights and disappointments quicker. We want to be more comfortable with the unresolved, unhealed parts of our stories. We want longer fuses and shorter memories, when it comes to the failures of others, and the disappointments of our day.
We want your mercy to tame our traumas, and your love to undo our unbelief. Bring your grace to the frayed edges, messy stories, and yet-to-be resolved issues in our hearts. We want all of these things, Father, and we want them all for your glory. So very Amen we pray, in Jesus’ mercy-full and trust-worthy name.
