The One Who Never Grows Weary

This truth is sweet comfort to my soul. God is always present, always powerful, reaching into my life with loving hands. He doesn’t break. His attention doesn’t fade or divert.

Shawnelle's puppy, Rugby, at rest.

There are just a few minutes to sit in the sun. We had an early morning soccer game and then a run into town for baseball cleats. In an hour, we have a Scouts gathering. But for now, it is still. Lonny and I find deck chairs that are hiding in the shade. We pull them to the patio. I tilt my face toward the rays of spring and close my eyes as the younger boys play in the yard.

I’m at rest.

Until Rugby nudges my knee.

He has his football in his mouth and he’s looking at me with remember-me-mama eyes. I scratch his ears and hope this will be enough. But the pup has something else in mind. He wants to play.

He drops the football at my feet and sits. He cocks his head. I’m a softie for a little blond guy–puppy or boy. The time of rest is over. I take Rugby’s football and head for the lawn.

But as I go, I have a thought.

Isn’t it wonderful that the Lord never tires?

To think about it is almost more than I can understand. We, in humanity, wear skin. For now, we exist in physical bodies that wear and spend and grow weary. I remember how when the kids were younger, getting the boys to bed at the end of the day was a major feat. Baths. Teeth. Book. Bible. Prayers. The tuck-in part of the day, precious as it was, spent the last of the strength I had.

Now that they’re a bit older, it seems that we move faster still. Tiredness is a fact of life.

READ MORE: GOODNESS IN THE RAIN

Yet He, our Father, never lacks strength.

Do you not know?

Have you not heard?

The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and His understanding no one can fathom. (Isaiah 40:28)

This truth is sweet comfort to my soul. He’s always present, always powerful, reaching into my life with loving hands. He doesn’t break. His attention doesn’t fade or divert.

He doesn’t grow weary.

I throw the football, and Rugby tears across the lawn in a golden puppy streak. A moment later he returns, his partially collapsed football clenched in his teeth.

He drops it by my side, and I throw it again.

Rest time is over, but I’m energized and renewed by thoughts of our never-tiring Lord.

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