“Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.”

—Matthew 11:28-30

One of the most frustrating things about being a teacher of writing is when a student truly, deeply, fervently believes that their way is better than the one I’m teaching them. Every year there are at least one or two who, no matter how many pens run dry from the comments I leave on their work, are determined to prove that their way is better.

At the root, it’s a pride issue. They don’t want to lose control of their means of expression. They think it will make the piece of writing less meaningful because they didn’t have the freedom to compose it in any way they wanted, but that sentiment just proves the extent to which they’ve missed the point entirely.

Everything I teach my students about writing has a purpose. For example, when I teach them to start their essay with a hook that draws their reader in instead of starting with their thesis statement, it’s because I want their potential readers to be intrigued by their writing. I don’t want their potential readers to be confused because of a randomly specific statement about a text they haven’t even thought about since middle school.

When I teach them the structure of a paragraph, it’s because there are an absolute ton of things we have to think about when we are writing—the text, how the prompt relates to the text, where we’re going to find our evidence, how to cite the evidence, and on and on and on. By learning the structure that is tried and true, that’s one less thing to worry about. It gives our brains a break and allows us to put that energy toward other things.

All my students have to do to benefit from all the tips and tricks I teach them to make the job easier is to trust me enough to surrender some of their control and write the way I’ve taught them.

I was surprised to find that the word “surrender” is not used very often in Scripture. It doesn’t even appear in my Bible dictionary, but it’s a word I’ve heard in church since I was a child. To get saved is to surrender your life to Christ. Even after we get saved, we have to continually work at surrendering to God’s leading in our lives.

Surrender is something we’re called to do daily by taking up our crosses and denying ourselves (Luke 9:23), but just like with my hard-headed students who think I’m trying to rob them of their individuality, the call to surrender can sometimes seem like God is trying to pull one over on us.

And that’s why I think this verse brings such sweet news—because when God calls us to surrender, what He is really calling us to is not a loss of control (we never had that anyway) or a loss of self. He’s calling us to rest.

Jesus addresses this call to those who are “weary and heavy-laden.” The original words refer to someone who is trying to carry a load that’s too heavy for them or someone who has literally worked until they were completely exhausted.

It’s just as much of an invitation as it is a call. There is no need to continue trying to do everything in our own power. We have the privilege of resting in the will of Christ, confident in the One we are following.

And really, I think that’s why Christ calls us to surrender. It has nothing to do with a power trip or the desire to exercise His authority over us—it has everything to do with wanting to take the load off our shoulders and letting us rest.

That’s one of the things I find so amazing about our God. He doesn’t tell us to do things because they are good for Him. He tells us to do things—or not to do things—because He knows and deeply desires what’s good for us.

So let’s rest this week, rest in the peace that comes from knowing we are fully surrendered to the God Who loves us more than we could ever imagine and wants nothing more than to give us good things like rest.