Finding Rest and Belonging in God's Love

We live in a world that is always on, filled with noise that never seems to stop. It's not just a noise of traffic or news alerts. It's a noise in our minds and our hearts and inner voices that keep us awake at night. Voices that say we must work harder, do more, be more. For many of us, life feels like a constant state of survival. Each day brings challenges and we push through them the best way that we can. [00:00:45]

But if we listen closely, beneath the adrenaline and a high energy of the song, there's also a rawness. There's a this weariness that comes from living life in overdrive. Doing whatever it takes can start as motivation, but often becomes a weight where we carry alone. [00:02:10]

Sarah's story is not unique. It echoes the lives of many who are holding together by sheer will pushing through exhaustion, isolation, and heartache. In that noise, Jesus speaks. Today's gospel from John 10 brings us back to the shepherd who sees us not just when we are strong and successful, but when we are tired, fragile, and worn down. [00:03:18]

Jesus says, "My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. No one will snatch them out of my hand." These words cut through all the noise, offering profound yet straightforward reassurance. You are seen. You are known. You are held. [00:03:54]

Notice that Jesus doesn't say, "My sheep achieve great things or my sheep keep pushing no matter what." He says, "My sheep hear my voice. The promise here is not about striving. It's about belonging. In a world that demands we constantly prove ourselves, Jesus offers the radical grace of simply being held. [00:04:16]

Restoration doesn't come in from grinding harder. It comes from being nurtured and cared for. Yet, how often do we resist that care? How often do we convince ourselves the rest is a luxury we can't afford or that asking for help is a sign of weakness? [00:05:01]

The world may tell us to keep pushing until we break, but the shepherd invites us to stop, breathe, and let ourselves be carried for a while. I think of a nurse working in a busy hospital, especially during the worst of the pandemic. [00:05:28]

Day after day, week after week, she suits up, faces unimaginable stress, and tells herself, "Whatever it takes, I'll do it." For her, adrenaline becomes a way of life. A shield against grief and fear. But in quiet moments, something shifts when a patient says a simple thank you. [00:05:55]

Or when she allows herself to pause and breathe, those moments become glimpse of grace. Reminders that she is not just a machine for caring for others, but a beloved child of God who also needs to be held. [00:06:25]

We celebrate all who offer love and guidance, who stand in the gap when someone needs a comforting presence, a helping hand, or a word of wisdom. We remember that mothering isn't about biology alone. It's about the fierce faithful work of showing up and caring for others again and again. [00:07:09]

Her story reminds us that nurturing love can transform lives and unite a community that holds one another up in times and when they get hard. [00:08:11]

Jordan makes simple meals, offers a safe place to hang out and creates an environment where these young people can be seen and celebrated for who they are. Jordan once said, "I may not have all the answers, but I'll do what it takes to make sure they know they are loved." [00:08:32]

Love that does whatever it takes, not out of obligation or adrenaline, but out of compassion that reflects God's heart. [00:09:01]

What if doing whatever it takes isn't about proving ourselves or pushing until we're empty, but what about choosing to stay connected to grace even when life is overwhelming? What if it means making space to rest, asking for help, and nurturing ourselves in other ways that heal and restore? [00:09:32]

The world would tell us that strength means never letting up. But Jesus tells us that true strength is found in knowing we are already enough, held in love. [00:09:58]