Matthew 11:28-30 Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 29 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. 30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
Jeremiah 6:16-17 Thus says the LORD: “Stand by the roads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls. But they said, ‘We will not walk in it.’ 17 I set watchmen over you, saying, ‘Pay attention to the sound of the trumpet!’ But they said, ‘We will not pay attention.’
Life wears us down. We live in a world of relentless motion, pressure, and performance. Yeshua (Jesus) doesn’t deny this. Instead, He speaks directly to those who are “weary and heavy-laden.” The Greek for “weary” (kopiao) means utterly worn out—soul-tired, not just physically fatigued. The burdens He mentions aren’t only external tasks but inward baggage: guilt, shame, expectations, and hidden wounds. Yeshua’s call isn’t merely an invitation to stop—it’s a call to come. He offers what no one else can: rest that restores.
But here’s the surprise—He offers rest through a yoke. That seems backwards. A yoke is for work. Yet this is the wisdom of the kingdom. Yeshua doesn’t promise escape; He offers partnership. His yoke—zugos in Greek—isn’t just a symbol of restraint or control. It represents His way of life, His teachings, and how He walked in obedience to the Father. And when we are yoked to Him, we’re no longer pulling alone. The burden doesn’t disappear—but it is redefined, shared, and lightened. His commands are not oppressive; they align us with God’s design, bringing peace through purpose.
“Learn from Me,” Yeshua says. Not learn just about Me. Not just admire Me. The Greek verb manthano implies observation that leads to transformation—watching the Master in action and imitating His ways. And what are those ways? Love, compassion, gentleness, and humility aren’t signs of weakness or passivity—they’re powerful, intentional choices. They reflect inner strength and a deep trust in God’s plan. Yeshua, though He is the King over all, chose to lower Himself and serve. He didn’t demand honor—He gave it. In doing so, He revealed the true path to peace and rest: not through striving, but through surrender and selfless love.
To take His yoke is to say YES to being shaped. It’s to accept a life of obedience that flows from love. In the Hebraic context, this yoke isn’t legalistic. It’s a joyful return to God’s ancient paths, the ways Jeremiah urged Israel to rediscover. (Jeremiah 6:16-17) Yeshua claims the authority to define that path. He is not just the teacher; He is Wisdom itself (Colossians 2:2-3). In Him, the old paths become living roads that lead to freedom.
Here’s the wonder: when we walk in His ways—when we align with His teaching and pace—rest finds us. Not because we chased it down but because we surrendered to the One who gave it. This rest (anapausis) is not the absence of effort but the presence of inner calm while we labor. It’s working in harmony with our purpose. It’s the second wind of grace.
Maybe you’ve tried everything else. Maybe you’ve carried the weight alone for too long. He’s still saying, “Come to Me.” Not just once, but daily. Take His yoke. Learn His ways. And you will find what your soul has longed for—not just relief, but real rest — a true SHABBAT!
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]We have seen that names have significant meanings, and as discussed earlier, Elimelech, whose name means “My God is King”, left Bethlehem with Naomi his wife and their two sons. The birth of these two boys must have brought joy and happiness, yet, having perished in Moab actually caused their very names to lose their original meanings.
As we commemorate the 80th anniversary of D-Day, leaders from around the world gather to honor those who served and died to deliver Europe and the world from the Nazis during World War 2.
During the Biblical festival of Shavuot, the book of Ruth is read. It’s a powerful story of faith, restoration and redemption. The book opens with a famine in all the land surrounding Bethlehem, forcing a difficult decision upon Naomi’s husband, Elimelech. Now, Bethlehem (beth: “house”, lechem: “bread”) literally means “house of bread”, so the irony of Elimelech’s departure from his home, “house of bread”, during a famine, is lost on English speaking readers, but reveals that every detail in the word of God can be meaningful, especially the meanings of names.
One of my favorite ministers of the Gospel is D.L. Moody. He tells a story about having heard Pastor Henry Varley once say that, “The world has yet to see what God will do with and for and through the man who is fully and wholly consecrated to Him.”
The Lord is quoted in this scripture in Matthew and it contains an important principle which I think we sometimes tend to overlook. Many believe and even teach that if someone acquires much material prosperity, then God has surely given them favor, and that if someone is undergoing extreme trial, it must be because they have sinned or that they lack faith. But the Lord says that the sun rises and the rain falls on both the righteous and the unrighteous alike. A life of good circumstances does not necessarily mean that God is with us. And likewise, a life of trial and suffering does not mean that God is not with us!
The African Impala (an African antelope) are amazing creatures that can jump to a height of over 10 feet and cover a distance greater than 30 feet. Yet Impalas can be kept in a zoo inside an enclosure with a simple 3 foot wall. Why? Impalas will not jump if they can’t see where their feet will land. Do we have something in common with these antelopes? Able to take great leaps of faith, but refusing to do it unless we can see where we’ll land?
An aging king woke up one day to the realization that should he drop dead, there would be no male in the royal family to take his place. He was the last male in the royal family in a culture where only a male could succeed to the throne – and he was aging. He decided that if he could not give birth to a male, he would adopt a son who then could take his place but he insisted that such an adopted son must be extraordinary in every sense of the word. So he launched a competition in his kingdom, open to all boys, no matter what their background. Ten boys made it to the very top.