Jody Harris gave a mother's day talk at Grace Point this morning, and embedded within the broad scope of her content was a mention of the need to "find rest in Jesus." She was referencing the famous passage where Jesus invites those following Him to find a perpetual rest, what Eugene Peterson referred to as the "rhythm of grace."

Anybody in leadership knows the burden of responsibility, the exhaustion of continuous exertion, the weariness that can come with struggle, and the elusive ideal of rest. It is easy, as a leader, to reach points where there is an inclination to toss ones hands up, walk away, and seek much anticipated rest. Of course, by leaders I mean all stripes and types - mothers, pastors, teachers, fathers, husbands, small group leaders, managers and everything in-between. Sometimes there is a part of each leader that wants to just sit out an inning and let the rest of the team swing the bat for awhile...Yet, that's not always realistic, appropriate or necessary. A husband cannot sit out a season, a mother cannot pass of the raising of her children, a leader cannot afford to just take a pass.

Here's where the real gem of sustainable, high-caliber leadership lies - the ability to find rest. The diligence to learn, renew and operate out of a rest that truly nourishes is what high leadership - fully leading, fully alive - hangs on. The question is not whether we will need rest, but whether and where we will find it? Nobody can provide this for us. Nobody will look out for us adequately to ensure we do not drift into hazardous anemia. It is our responsibility as leaders to find our rest, to invest in our leadership quotient, to keep ourselves in a place out which we will have the capacity to lead well.

Where do you find your rest? How do you find renewal?

Faith Herrera, the Childrens Pastor @ Grace Point, sent out this devotional thought to her leaders/parents this morning and I thought it was worth all of us reflecting on...

Acts 4:13
When they saw the courage of Peter and John and realized that they were unschooled, ordinary men, they were astonished and they took note that these men had been with Jesus.

This week Melody (Associate Children's Pastor) and I went to a conference called Orange. One of the things that stuck out was when Francis Chan (a dynamic pastor from California) said, "The people 2000 years ago were astonished that uneducated men would be so bold as they spoke about Jesus. Today I am astonished that we're so educated, yet not bold at all."

How true is that? Today we know more and we are the most educated people of all time. Yet, are we bold? Do we breathe as if it will be our last breath? Do we live as if after our next breath, we will be in God's presence?

I know that I want to breathe and live each moment as if it is my last. When I am in God's presence, I don't want Him to look upon me and say, "If only you had..." I want to live knowing that the things I do here on earth are counting in eternity. I want to imagine the moment I stand before God and remember that this moment is the moment I'm living for now.

I pray that God will give us boldness to be the change in this world...that we won't be content with the status quo. I pray that we will be excited about Him. I pray that we will not try to ramp down someone else's enthusiasm. I pray that no one will be able to calm us down!

Next to the Bible, the biographies of men and women who have all-out sought God and been radically messed up in the process have been impactful to me. I remember delighting in not just reading the "works" of guys like Jonathan Edwards, Erasmus, George Whitefield, John Wesley, John Calvin and Thomas Aquinas - but then reading their biographies to be inspiring and challenging. It was peculiar and telling to see how many times the lives we most celebrate today were nothing special in their lifetime - theirs was a life of simple devotion, frequent adversity, and uncertain ends. It was a lifestyle of worship and relentless pursuit of the Holy. Posthumously God has used the dust of these saints to help inspire and draw future generations to Himself.

I received a testimony email this morning about an Ugandan pastor who was resilient. He wasn't a formal pastor, but when 100 Christians were imprisoned in a hostile Muslim uprising he was the eldest and most determined to praise God in the circumstance. He refused to deny his Savior and instead rallied the other Christians to praise God in their gruesome confines. After years of this he was considered a pastor and as people were released hundreds and thousands began to be reached with the Gospel. Resilient light that pierces the darkness.

Peterson's The Message paraphrases 2 Corinthians 3:18 like this: And when God is personally present, a living Spirit, that old, constricting legislation is recognized as obsolete. We're free of it! All of us! Nothing between us and God, our faces shining with the brightness of his face. And so we are transfigured much like the Messiah, our lives gradually becoming brighter and more beautiful as God enters our lives and we become like him.

Chamber's Utmost entry for yesterday reminds us followers of the Way to look at the face of God for ourselves and let that glory radiate un-hindered, untempered, un-restrained to everyone around us. Whether we are a solo radiating face or whether we are in a host of witnesses who echo and share our glorious radiance.

Leadership - whether 1st chair, 2nd chair or from the caboose always brings wrestling with herd mentality hazards. The tempo and mindset of those around can become a force we permit to distract our hearts and minds from the glory of God, and thus our own leadership (i.e. influence, stewardship of the gospel) is passively retarded.

We do not "feed" off of the crowds around us - we feed off of the glorious riches of the Father through the Son and His Spirit Who indwells those who call Him "Abba," who live dependent upon Him. May we be discontent with anything less. Relentless. Resilient. Radiant.

If we're not leading people towards, relentlessly in pursuit of...this Man...it's all pointless.