Rushing Down Sycamore Trees

I was trying to revive my computer out of it's sleep when I accidentally turned my Pandora account to play Sara Groves. Usually, this would be welcome accident. The problem was I already had Playlist.com running Derrek Webb. My two accounts were fighting for my attention. Two individually beautiful songs intertwined and became a convoluted mess.

That's my mind. When the meshed noise protruded from my speakers, I found an accurate word picture of the way my mind has felt for the past few weeks. Hundreds of thoughts are competing for my attention, pushing their agendas, enslaving me to hurried thoughts.

I haven't been all that busy recently. Time wise, I'm doing well. I have gotten enough seep. All my homework is done. But I have felt a pressing and constant hurriedness. Others are feeling it, too. A good friend told me she always feels like a rushing to the next appointment, class, project, or world-hunger solution brainstorming meeting. I don't think I have, to be honest. But I'm certain that the interwoven melodies of my mind of seeped out, and are apparent to those around me.

I turned off Pandora quite quickly and put the chaos to an end. But what do we do when the music in our minds won't shut off? What do we do, when our spirits won't find rest, no matter how many hours we feed it on our pillows and beneath our covers?


This morning I read of how Zacchaeus ran to the sycamore tree to climb it to see Jesus. Jesus walked by and told him to rush down because He would stay with Zach that evening.

I think that's what we do. We rush to see Jesus. And He comes beside us, in His own steady pace, and invites us to rush to be with Him - at His pace, in His peace.

Until the music stops...