A Place To Rest

I laid it down in silence,
This work of mine,
And took what had been sent me,
A resting time.
The Master's voice had called me
To rest apart,
"Apart with Jesus only,"
Echoed my heart.
I took the rest and stillness
From His own Hand,
And felt this present illness
Was what He planned.
How often we choose labor,
When He says "Rest,"
Our ways are blind and crooked,
His way is best.
The work Himself has given,
He will complete.
There may be other errands
For tired feet.
There may be other duties
For tired hands,
The present, is obedience
To His commands.
There is a blessed resting
In lying still,
In letting His hand mold us,
Just as He will.
His work must be completed.
His lesson set,
He is the higher Workman,
Do not forget!
It is not only "working."
We must be trained,
And Jesus "learnt" obedience,
Through suffering gained.
For us, His yoke is easy,
His burden light.
His discipline most needful,
And all is right.
We are but under-workmen,
They never choose.
If this tool or if that one,
Their hands shall use.
In working or in waiting,
May we fulfill.
Not ours at all, but only
The Master's Will.
~Unknown~

God provides resting places as well as working places. Rest, then, and use your time in meditation of His Word. He will lead you to the well of fulfilling the plans He has for you when it is time.