Butter Over Too Much Toast

One of the great theologians of our time was honest enough to name what a lot of us feel. His name is Bilbo Baggins.

Early in The Fellowship of the Ring, Bilbo tells Gandalf that he feels thin and stretched, like a little butter scraped across too much bread. He doesn't look old, but he feels old. And then he admits the thing most of us won't say out loud: something isn't right, and something needs to change.

We know why Bilbo felt that way. He was carrying the Ring. He was wearing the weight of the world around his neck.

(Quick aside: if you are not a Tolkien fan, I'm not sure what to tell you. We still love you. Mostly.)

Here's my honest question for you: do you feel spread thin? Overcommitted? Majoring on the minors? So busy doing all the adulting things that you are missing life altogether? If so, I want you to know two things. First, you are not alone. Second, there is a way out, and Jesus is the one who offers it.

Saved, But Still Grumpy

Before we go any further, let's define our terms. Your soul is not the same thing as your spirit.

Your spirit is that eternal part of you made in the image of God, the part that is meant to live in communion with the Holy Spirit. Your soul is your personality, your character, your drive, your makeup. Not your physical makeup, but who you are as a person.

And here's what I've noticed about my own soul: it changes. I'm not the same person I was at 27, and I'm not even the same person I was ten years ago. Some days I look at myself and think, "Oh my gosh, I'm getting old and cranky. What is going on?"

Here's the uncomfortable truth. Your spirit can be saved and on its way to heaven, while your soul, your personality, is still kind of a jerk. Is that possible? It is. When believers drift toward grumpy, bitter, angry, and impatient, it's usually because we've stopped practicing the way of Jesus. Our souls need care. Probably a lot of care.

The Invitation

Jesus offers us an invitation and a promise in one of the most beautiful passages in Scripture:

"Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." (Matthew 11:28 to 30, ESV)

Did you catch it? Not "learn about me." Learn from me. This is an invitation to apprenticeship. Jesus is saying that whatever yoke you are under right now, whoever you are following, it isn't good for you. Come to me.

Notice He names two things: those who labor and those who are heavy laden. Those are two different kinds of tired.

Some of us are physically tired. Others of us got eight hours of sleep, took our vitamins, got a clean report from the doctor, and are still exhausted. That's heavy laden. Too many conversations, too many shows, too much doom scrolling, too much on our plates. Here in Southern California especially, everything is go, go, go. We want our food now, our blessing now, our prayers answered now. That pace is not healthy for our souls.

You can be physically tired and still fully alive inside, like after a great workout. What you don't want is to be physically, emotionally, and spiritually drained all at once. That's a dumpster fire. That's when you need rest for your soul.

And how you recharge matters less than where. I'm an introvert. I recharge in silence and solitude, up in the mountains with my dogs and the Lord. Some of you recharge around people. Either way, do it in the presence of God. That is what shifts something deep inside you.

A Yoke Is Still a Yoke

Now, don't miss this. Jesus doesn't say, "Come to me and you won't have to do anything." He says, "Take my yoke."

A yoke is what an ox wore to pull a plow. Being an apprentice of Jesus is work. It takes discipline, practice, and obedience. It will push you into uncomfortable places and practices you honestly don't want to do. I promise you that.

But His burden is light. It's like a good workout on the treadmill: you have to do it, and you feel so much better when you're done. Take on Jesus' yoke and your personality will shift. You'll become more like the real you that God created you to be, instead of the faded you the enemy designed.

The enemy's strategy is to steal, kill, destroy, and spread you thin across some dry toast. Jesus came so that you may have life and have it abundantly (John 10:10).

The Inward Practices

In our Practicing the Way series, we're looking at nine practices Jesus lived out. Sabbath sits at the top as the cornerstone, then four inward practices and four outward ones.

Sabbath. It's the only one of the nine that made the Ten Commandments. If Jesus kept Sabbath and I want to be like Jesus, I should probably Sabbath too. Practically, that might mean powering off your phone for the day. I'm preaching to myself here: every time I pick it up, one text turns into an email turns into a work rabbit trail. God's people used to spend Sabbath eating, resting, enjoying each other and enjoying God. We've lost that ancient practice, and we need to get it back.

Then come four practices that care for your own soul:

• Silence and solitude. Getting away to be alone with the Lord.

• Prayer. Not only when you feel like it, but consistently.

• Fasting. (Confession: this is the one I'm currently looking for excuses to avoid.)

• Scripture. Reading, memorizing, and meditating on the Word.

Let me press on prayer for a moment. My personality says, "I only want to pray when I feel it, because I want to be authentic." But we are not called to be feelers. We are called to be believers. Listen to Joshua 1:8:

"This Book of the Law shall not depart from your mouth, but you shall meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do according to all that is written in it. For then you will make your way prosperous, and then you will have good success." (ESV)

Day and night. Most mornings I check my prayer box and move on. Maybe the success God promises is tied to a day and night rhythm I keep skipping. Whether you feel like it or not, pray daily. Maybe twice.

I've seen this in marriage ministry too. Research consistently finds that couples who pray together report stronger, more lasting marriages. If daily prayer can strengthen a marriage, imagine what it could do for your soul.

The Outward Practices

The inward practices matter, but they aren't the whole picture. As Rick Warren famously put it on page one of The Purpose Driven Life, it's not about you. Jesus went inward, and He also went outward to bring the kingdom to others. So the other four practices are:

• Community. Doing life together, beyond Sunday.

• Service. Putting others first in practical ways.

• Generosity. Giving freely of what God has given us.

• Witness. Sharing the good news with those who need it.

Community includes something many of us avoid: confession. Confession isn't only admitting the big, hairy sins. It's also being vulnerable enough to say, "I need help here. I need accountability in my prayer life. I don't have a heart to serve, so will you pray that God changes that?" When we aren't honest in community about our attitudes, apathies, and insecurities, we don't get breakthrough.

I learned this the hard way. A few years ago I thought I was doing great. Prayer, Scripture, serving, solitude (solitude is easy for me; I'm an only child with an active imagination). But sitting around a table and being honest about my life? That was hard. That was a yoke I didn't want. When I finally put it on, I felt so light. I thought I needed more prayer time. What I really needed was community time.

Sometimes what we think we need is not where the Holy Spirit is leading. Maybe you know your Bible inside and out but have no acts of service. Maybe you're great at community but generosity is missing. Without balance, we become lopsided, fragmented souls.

An Anchor for the Soul

Before this sounds like a to-do list for earning God's love, hear Isaiah 55:

"Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food." (Isaiah 55:2, ESV)

God's people had slipped into a contract mentality: if I'm a good boy or a good girl, God will love me. But God offers an everlasting covenant instead. Come and eat without money. Receive what you didn't earn. Honestly, if I were God, I wouldn't have written it that way. Thank goodness I'm not.

Downstairs in our sanctuary hangs a rusty anchor. It used to have a plaque with a verse from a paraphrase I really liked. When serious concerns came out about how that translation was produced, I took the plaque down. It was a heartbreak, but it was also a cautionary tale about what happens when a soul gets isolated and spread thin. So here is that same promise in the ESV:

"We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever after the order of Melchizedek." (Hebrews 6:19 to 20, ESV)

God has bound Himself by His promise and His oath, and it is impossible for Him to lie. Your soul may feel fragmented or shattered. But there is hope, and hope is the anchor.

Think about Abraham. In Genesis 14, after a battle, he meets the mysterious priest king Melchizedek, who brings out bread and wine. I believe that encounter points us straight to Jesus. Abraham received the bread and the wine, and then he gave a tenth of everything. Both an inward work and an outward expression. That's still the pattern for us: receive His grace at the table, then live it out with open hands.

Goodness Will Follow You

On Sunday, our friend Jonathan Dean shared a word the Lord gave him from Psalm 23, and it ties all of this together.

"He makes me lie down in green pastures. He restores my soul." That's what we're doing in the quiet places: learning the practices. Then the psalm shifts: "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death... your rod and your staff, they comfort me." The disciplines we practice in the calm seasons are what sustain us when we walk through the dark ones. And notice, we walk through the valley. We don't stay there.

Then comes the table prepared in the presence of our enemies, and the promise: "Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life." We don't have to chase God's goodness. When we practice the way of Jesus, His goodness follows us.

So here's my challenge for you this week:

• Pick one of the nine practices you've been avoiding, and take one small step in it.

• Pray daily, whether you feel like it or not.

• Tell one trusted friend where you need help or accountability.

• Try a real Sabbath. Power off the phone and enjoy God and the people you love.

Come to Him, you who are weary and heavy laden. Take His yoke. Learn from Him. You will find rest for your souls.

May the Lord bless you through and through. May your whole spirit, soul, and body be strengthened, getting better each and every day until the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. He has given you His promises and His oath. He will never leave you or forsake you.