I am tired and weary.
As a knowledge worker, I am weary of thinking, writing, studying, teaching, training, and preparing sermons. Though our labour in the Lord is not vain, it is undoubtedly tiring (1 Cor. 15:58, 2 Cor. 4:7).
As a Christian, my soul is weary of shepherds feeding themselves, people who have shipwrecked their faith, wolves in sheep’s clothing, swindlers who peddle the Word of God for profit, and those who have a form of godliness but deny its power (Ezek. 34:2, 1 Tim. 1:19, Matt. 7:15, 2 Cor. 2:17, 2 Tim. 3:5, Phil. 3:18).
I often feel as the apostle Paul did, “For they all seek their own interests, not those of Jesus Christ” (Phil. 2:21).
To be a pastor is to be in the people-changing business. It is heavy on the heart and anxious for the mind to labour until Christ is formed in the hearts of people (Gal. 4:19, 2 Cor. 11:28).
I am battle-weary from the fight with the world, the enemy, and the flesh. As an approval-seeking person, I am weary of my quickness to please people and slowness to speak truthfully. As it turns out, I too have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out (Rom. 7:18).
Living in Delhi is living in a state of constant negotiation—for space in traffic, time for people, and peace of mind. It is wearisome to live in a rat-racing, power-hungry, fast-paced, slow-learning, self-reliant, God-defiant city. I often feel as David did, “I am for peace, but when I speak, they are for war!” (Ps. 120:7)
It is wearisome to live as a Christian in a country where it is hard to be one, freely.
I am tired and my soul is weary.
To Be Tired and Weary is To Be Human
It sounds like weakness to say it. But to be weary is to be human. To say you are weary is not to say you are unspiritual. Jesus wore a body that was vulnerable to tiredness (John 4:6). Ancient Israel “burdened” the Lord with their sins and “wearied” him with their iniquities (Isa. 43:24).
Knowing such tiredness and using such language does not cost either person of the Trinity an ounce of their holiness.
To be tired is to be limited. Such limitations are divine. God is limited. He is bound to his nature. He is limited to being holy, good, pure, and wise. God cannot be unholy, evil, impure, or foolish. It is delightfully impossible.
To cheapen our limitations is to become less human. It is inhuman to depend on energy drinks, caffeine shots, sugar highs, and power naps.
Limitless labour is not the Lord’s way. It is the devil’s workshop, where to be working is to be “holy.” But to be holy “does not work”—not in the “real world” of ambitious dogfighting, relentless networking, constant ladder-climbing, and idolatrous validation-seeking.
In this regard, the loudest voices are not the wisest voices. Often, they are the most tiring ones. They call for constant work without any rest. India is among the top ten workaholic countries in the world.
In this context, we easily forget our limitations. But our tiredness reintroduces us to them. When your work gets the best of you, everyone else usually gets the worst of you.
To embrace our limitations is to become more human. It is Christlike to eat with friends, sit in silence, talk with people, and sleep through a storm. It is human to spend most of your time with a few, instead of clamouring for the attention of the many.
To Listen to Our Tiredness is to Listen to God
To listen to my tiredness is to listen to God. He invites the weary and heavy laden—those who are doing too many things and carrying too many burdens. He calls, as if in the soft, soothing voice of Norah Jones, “Come away with me” (Matt. 11:28).
I am weary, but I am not alone. The prophets of the past knew the weariness of the world. When they felt nobody was listening, they found refuge in a divine ear. I often feel as the prophet Micah did, “But as for me, I will look to the Lord; I will wait for the God of my salvation; my God will hear me” (Micah 7:7).
He Who Does Not Grow Tired and Weary
I am weary, but my soul finds rest in God alone (Ps. 62:1-2). Though I am weary, he does not grow weary. He gives power to the faint and increases the power of the weak (Isa. 40:28-29).
My comfort in my weariness is this: I walk in the footsteps of people who know this path. They testify to my soul that God is with me. His Son stands by me, his energy works through me, and his Spirit dwells in me (Matt. 28:20, 2 Tim. 4:17, Col. 1:29, Eph. 3:16-19).
The Spirit of God whispers true, good, and beautiful things into my heart. He cuts through the noise of the city and softly tells us of the eternal rest, the joyful welcome, the crown of glory, and the validation every labourer in the Lord lives to hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant. . . Enter into the joy of your master” (Matt. 25:21, Jude 24-25).
What the enemy intends for harm, God is able to use for good. He turns my tiredness from an obstacle into a gateway, to find rest. Then he satisfies me with the goodness of his presence and his promise (Ps. 90:14).
It is thrilling to see how God uses the weapons of the adversary against him.
I am weary, but the joy of the Lord is my strength (Neh. 8:10).
In Christ, tiredness is superficial. Rest is fundamental. Though the weight of the world is burdensome, the weight of God’s glory replaces a spirit of despair with a garment of praise (Isa. 61:3).
The word of his grace can turn an emotional wilderness into a flourishing garden, a weary body into a worshipping temple, and a tired pastor into a joyful witness.
