“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”
— Matthew 11:28
Life is often heavier than we think. Some are crushed by the repetitive routine, others by relentless responsibilities, and still others by the unspoken weariness of the heart. We usually call this state by a more secretive name than “discouragement.” It is called “fatigue.” The desire to let everything go, the unwillingness to get up, the wish to just be dazed — this feeling does not come from a lack of will, but from enduring too much for too long. Fatigue is not the loss of passion, but the silent weight that comes when the inner self wears down amid repeated tension. In such a state, people often quietly sit down. For some, it’s just a slightly tiring day, but for themselves, it may be a day filled with fear of standing up again.
Jesus’ invitation is directed at us in this condition. “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden.” This is not mere consolation or sympathy. In this verse, “labor” refers to the fatigue of physical effort and responsibility, and “heavy laden” includes deep emotional burdens. There is no mention of who placed this burden. No one asks who is at fault or why it happened. The only thing is that the Lord calls those who are carrying that burden now to “come.” Faith is not a place for the qualified, but a place for those who respond to the call.
This invitation is not a command to “do,” but a relational appeal before religious acts: Come to God, stop before Him. That is the first step to restoration. We always demand solutions, but God first tells us to change direction. Where does the strength come from for the weary to walk again? It begins with the presence of the Lord. The moment I turn to the Lord, even if the problem isn’t immediately solved, my center is restored. From that moment, restoration begins from within.
“I will give you rest.” The “rest” mentioned here is not mere sleep or rest. The original Greek expresses “to restore,” “to bring back to health,” and “to lead to true peace and rest.” The rest Jesus gives is a rest that rebuilds the structure of existence. Powerlessness comes when life’s direction is disrupted. It is not because there is too much to do, but because we have lost the reason why we must do it, that we collapse. The rest given by the Lord is not simply rest for the body, but rest that restores the center of the heart. The Lord does not solve problems for us, but rebuilds us within the problem. And that is true strength.
The Lord is not unaware of our limits. Jesus Himself lived as a human on this earth, experiencing hunger, loneliness, misunderstanding, betrayal, sorrow, and despair. He did not just look down from heaven and say, “Cheer up.” Rather, He first waits for us in the places of greatest weariness and pain. The Lord calls not the strong, but those who are weary. “Come to me.” This brief word is the deepest voice of God to us who silently cry in our fatigue today. Knowing us better than anyone, He says He will give us rest even without any qualifications. That word becomes the only reason for us to live today.
If you have no strength now and don’t even know where to go, listen again to Jesus’ invitation amid your powerlessness. The word “come” is simple, yet how deep is its comfort. It is an unconditional, unjudging, and unquestioning call open to you. In the reality where you feel you must carry a heavy burden every day, choose at least for one moment to lay down that burden before the Lord. The Lord has promised rest, and that promise is not empty. The moment we come before Him, He surely gives us rest. It may be quiet comfort, silent emotion, or recovery blooming through tears.
God’s rest is not a momentary feeling but a restoring power that sustains the soul. Only within that power can we truly live again. So let us hold this Word deeply in our hearts today. May that Word become grace that embraces your fatigue and enables you to walk again. Jesus said, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”
Maeil Scripture Journal | Today’s Word
