The Weary Find Rest in Jesus

John 1:35-51

ADVENT WEEK 4 — LOVE

Reader: Good morning, Church. Today we light the Candle of Love. Advent reminds us that the story of Christmas is, at its core, a love story — God moving toward sinners, not away from them.

Scripture Reading — 1 John 4:9–10 (ESV) “In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins.”

Reader: God did not wait for us to get our lives together. He sent Jesus while we were still broken. Christmas is proof that God’s love is not earned — it is given.

Scripture Reading — John 3:16 (ESV) “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.”

Reader: As we light the candle of love, we remember this: God’s love has come near. Love that pursues the lost. Love that sacrifices. Love that changes everything.

(Light the fourth purple candle.)

Reader: Let us pray. Father, thank You for Your great love shown through Jesus. Teach us to receive Your love and to reflect it to others. Prepare our hearts as we celebrate the coming of our Savior. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Good morning, Church. If you have your Bibles, go ahead and make your way to John 1. On Christmas Eve, we gathered and made much of Jesus and we dove in John 1:1-14 and read how the word became flesh and dwelt among us and the significicance of that for a weary world in need of a savior.

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas. I just want to take a quick survey— how many of ya’ll have already started taking down your Christmas Decorations?

How many of ya’ll wait until after new years?

How many of ya’ll wait until about July?

There’s a house in our neighborhood—they kept there uplast year until October. Judah would always ask why do they still have their Christmas Decorations up? I’d just respond, boy you can’t hide money.

Only reason they took them down was to put up Halloween decorations. And they even kept some of those up this year and just slapped a white beard on them.

Can’t hide money.

Plus its work putting them up and taking them down. People are tired.

We live in a tired world. And right now—if we’re being honest—we feel it more than usual.

This isn’t just busy tired. This is post-Christmas tired. This is “the decorations are still half up, the credit card bill just hit, the kids are back in school, routines are off, diets are broken, and the calendar already feels full again” tired. This is emotional exhaustion from being around people nonstop. This is spiritual fatigue from trying to make every moment magical and meaningful and joyful—and then waking up on the other side feeling empty instead of refreshed.

It’s bone-deep tired. Soul-level weariness.

And here’s the danger: the problem isn’t just that we’re tired—it’s where we’re looking for rest. We assume rest will come once things slow down, once life gets normal again, once the schedule clears, once the pressure eases. But most of us know by experience that “normal” never actually comes. The pace just changes. The weight just shifts. And the weariness follows us.

That’s why John’s Gospel matters so much here.

In his Gospel, John introduces us to Jesus and then immediately shows us how we are meant to respond to Him. Matthew and Luke, especially, give us the what of Christmas. They give us the facts—the angels, the shepherds, Mary and Joseph, the manger, the star, the journey to Bethlehem. We need those details. They root the story in history.

But John gives us the why of Christmas.

John pulls back the curtain and says, “Here is why God came near. Here is why the Word became flesh. Here is what your weary soul actually needs.”

And when he gets to John 1:35–51, he shows us that Jesus doesn’t come recruiting the impressive, the put-together, or the spiritually energetic. He invites the weary. He draws in people who are searching, tired of following voices that don’t satisfy, and worn out from trying to find meaning on their own.

And what’s striking is this: the weary don’t find relief first in explanations or answers. They find rest by following Him. By being with Him. By staying where He stays.

John shows us that Christmas wasn’t just God showing up to fix a moment—it was God stepping into our exhaustion to become our rest.

One of the most striking things in the Gospel of John is how Jesus begins His ministry. John doesn’t open with commands. He doesn’t open with confrontation. He doesn’t open with correction.

He opens with questions.

Before Jesus tells anyone what to do, He asks them who they are and what they really want. And the first three questions Jesus asks in John aren’t random—they’re intentional. They go straight to the places where we’re tired, restless, and searching.

The first question Jesus asks is this:

“What are you searching for?” That’s John 1:38.

Jesus turns to those first disciples and doesn’t ask what they believe or where they’ve been. He asks what they’re after. What they’re chasing. What they think will finally quiet their soul.

That question still exposes us. Because most of us aren’t tired because we’re doing too much—we’re tired because we’re searching for rest in the wrong places. We’re worn out from chasing peace through productivity, validation through approval, and identity through performance. Jesus looks at weary people and asks, What are you really looking for?

Then, not long after that, Jesus asks a second question—one that feels simple on the surface but is incredibly personal:

“What is your name?”

When Jesus meets Simon, He doesn’t start with Simon’s resume or reputation. He starts with his name. He says, “You are Simon.” Before correction. Before calling. Before transformation.

That matters, because weariness often comes from feeling unseen—like you’re just another role, another responsibility, another expectation. Jesus begins by knowing us personally. Not as a project. Not as a problem. But as a person.

And then comes the third question—the one that brings everything into focus:

“Will you follow?”

Jesus doesn’t say, “Will you understand everything?” He doesn’t say, “Will you have it all figured out?” He says, Will you follow Me?

That’s the invitation of rest. Not clarity first—trust first. Not answers first—obedience first. Jesus knows that true rest doesn’t come from knowing the whole path; it comes from knowing who you’re walking with.

And taken together, these three questions form a progression for weary hearts:

What are you searching for? Who are you, really? And will you follow Me?

That’s how Jesus meets exhausted people. And that’s how He still invites us into rest today.

So Lets Read John 1:35-51 and read it for ourselves.

John 1:35–51 ESV

The next day again John was standing with two of his disciples, and he looked at Jesus as he walked by and said, “Behold, the Lamb of God!” The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. Jesus turned and saw them following and said to them, “What are you seeking?” And they said to him, “Rabbi” (which means Teacher), “where are you staying?” He said to them, “Come and you will see.” So they came and saw where he was staying, and they stayed with him that day, for it was about the tenth hour. One of the two who heard John speak and followed Jesus was Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother. He first found his own brother Simon and said to him, “We have found the Messiah” (which means Christ). He brought him to Jesus. Jesus looked at him and said, “You are Simon the son of John. You shall be called Cephas” (which means Peter). The next day Jesus decided to go to Galilee. He found Philip and said to him, “Follow me.” Now Philip was from Bethsaida, the city of Andrew and Peter. Philip found Nathanael and said to him, “We have found him of whom Moses in the Law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph.” Nathanael said to him, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Philip said to him, “Come and see.” Jesus saw Nathanael coming toward him and said of him, “Behold, an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no deceit!” Nathanael said to him, “How do you know me?” Jesus answered him, “Before Philip called you, when you were under the fig tree, I saw you.” Nathanael answered him, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!” Jesus answered him, “Because I said to you, ‘I saw you under the fig tree,’ do you believe? You will see greater things than these.” And he said to him, “Truly, truly, I say to you, you will see heaven opened, and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.”

1. Rest Begins When We Look at the Lamb

John opens this scene with John the Baptist doing what he has always done—pointing away from himself. And that matters, because by this point John the Baptist was a religious celebrity in Israel. People flocked to hear him preach. Crowds gathered in the wilderness. Some were saying he was the greatest prophet Israel had seen since Isaiah or Elijah. If anyone had the platform, the influence, or the moment—it was John.

And yet, when Jesus walks by, John doesn’t seize the moment. He doesn’t redirect attention to his ministry. He doesn’t build his brand. He looks at Jesus and calls out one simple sentence:

“Behold, the Lamb of God.”

That’s it. No altar call. No emotional manipulation. No explanation. Just—Look at Him.

That phrase would have landed with enormous weight for a Jewish audience. The lamb wasn’t just religious imagery—it was central to Israel’s entire worship system.

It started with the Passover. On the night God promised to judge Egypt, He also promised protection for His people. Each Israelite family was commanded to take a lamb, sacrifice it, and smear its blood on the doorposts of their home. When the angel of death passed through the land, the houses marked by the blood were spared. Judgment passed over them. Life was preserved because a lamb had died in their place. And every year after that, Israel reenacted that night, remembering that salvation had come through the blood of a substitute.

Later, when God established temple worship, the lamb became central again. Each year, families would bring a lamb to the temple as a sacrifice for sin. The father would place his hand on the head of the lamb while the priest offered it on the altar. The meaning was unmistakable. The sins of the family were symbolically transferred, and the lamb died in their place. This was the ritual of atonement—life given so guilt could be covered.

So when John the Baptist looks at Jesus and says, “This man is the Lamb of God,” that was not what anyone was expecting. They had never thought of the lamb as a person. The lamb was a symbol. The lamb was an animal. The lamb was something you brought to God.

And John says, “No—this is Him.”

He was saying, “Everything you’ve read in the Torah. Every sacrifice you’ve watched. Every lamb that ever died—it was all pointing here.” He was declaring that the Lamb and the Messiah are the same person. That the system was giving way to a Savior. That substitution was no longer symbolic—it was standing in front of them.

That would have blown their minds.

The word behold means to look at Him, to recognize who He is, to see Him clearly, and to pay attention to Him. John is calling people to stop looking everywhere else and fix their attention on Jesus.

That admonition is still relevant today. You have a sin-debt that needs to be covered. That is where the Christian message begins. Jesus is the Lamb sent for you. John is saying, Behold Him. Consider what His coming means about you—about your need, your guilt, and your inability to save yourself.

Verse 37 tells us that the two disciples who were with John heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. As they follow Him, Jesus turns around, sees them, and speaks the first recorded words of His ministry in the Gospel of John:

“What are you seeking?”

The Greek carries the idea of direction as well—Where are you trying to go?

If you underline things in your Bible, this is one to underline. These are Jesus’ first words in John’s Gospel, and they are profoundly significant. This question will undergird many of His encounters throughout the rest of the book.

Jesus is asking, What are you really looking for? And just as importantly, What do I have to do with that?

That question is still being asked today, and I think it’s worth asking some of us that question this morning. You made a decision to be here. Why? What is it that you are really looking for in life, and what does Jesus have to do with that?

All of us—whether we recognize it or not—are on some kind of quest to obtain what we believe will make us happy. For many of us, Jesus is part of that equation. But the question is how central He really is.

So what is that thing for you? What do you most desire? What are you really searching for?

In those quiet moments—when you are alone, when you are not distracted, when you are not crazy busy—what is it that you most yearn for? Some of you don’t allow yourself to be alone at all. It’s almost like you hate silence. You keep the radio on in the car. You fill spare moments by scrolling—TikTok, Facebook, checking scores—anything to avoid sitting still long enough to think real thoughts or feel real feelings and actually engage your soul.

Our society almost seems designed to keep us from silence and reflection. I was at the St. Johns Town Center the other day, and there was music playing between outdoor stores—music coming out of the bushes—because apparently even twenty seconds of silence while walking is too much. God forbid we think about our lives or ask real questions.

If that’s you, I’m not judging you. I just want to say that maybe you’ve been searching for something for a long time and haven’t found it, and now you’re filling your life with noise so you don’t feel the longing anymore. You don’t think about the deep questions anymore—only the daily trivialities.

So Jesus’ question is as relevant as ever: What are you really seeking?

If you want an honest answer, look at your checkbook. Look at your calendar. Look at your browsing history. Those will give you clues. Or look at your secrets—the things you hide from others: alcohol, drugs, cheating, pornography. Or look at your obsessions—work, success, finding a boyfriend or girlfriend. What makes you jealous? What makes you angry? What makes you anxious or fearful?

All of that points to what you are really looking for.

And Jesus’ question still stands: What are you really seeking, and what does Jesus have to do with that?

V.38- And they said to him, “Rabbi” (which means Teacher), “where are you staying?”

When Jesus asks them, “What are you seeking?” the disciples seem to think He is asking a very practical, surface-level question. Something like, “What are you guys looking for right now?” As if the answer might be, “Honestly, a bathroom,” or “Some food,” or “A place to crash.”

2. Rest Is Found in Abiding, Not Just Believing

A recurring theme is that Jesus is speaking on one level, while everyone else is thinking on a completely different level. Jesus is talking up here, and people keep responding down here.

You see it all over the place. In John 6, Jesus says, “I am the bread of life,” and the crowd responds like, “Bread? That sounds great. Some hot yeast rolls would really hit the spot right now.” Jesus is talking about Himself as the source of life, and they’re thinking about lunch.

Or in John 3, Jesus tells Nicodemus, “Unless you are born again, you will never see the kingdom of God,” and Nicodemus responds, “Okay… how exactly am I supposed to crawl back up into my mother’s womb and be born a second time?” And Jesus basically has to say, “Nicodemus—first of all, gross. Second, have you ever heard of a metaphor? I’m talking about a different kind of birth. A heavenly one.”

Then in John 4, Jesus tells the woman at the well, “I have living water, and whoever drinks from it will never be thirsty again.” And she responds, “Oh yeah? Well where’s your bucket?” Jesus is talking about the Spirit, and she’s thinking about the well.

That misunderstanding happens again and again.

Not long ago, I was with some students after an event here in Jacksonville. We stopped to grab some food, and while we’re standing around talking, a guy walks up and asks if he can have some money. These are students, so of course they’re broke. I didn’t have any cash either, so I told him I’d be happy to buy him something to eat.

He looks at me and says, “Nah, I already ate. I just want money.”

Then one of the students—who clearly had good intentions but zero street awareness—pipes up and says, “Well what if I told you we had food you could eat once and never be hungry again?”

The guy just freezes. Stares at him. Like, full buffering wheel. Then he looks at me like, Is your friend okay? Shakes his head and walks off.

The student turns back to me completely confused and says, “I don’t understand. That sounded super biblical.”

And I said, “Yes. It did. But apparently not everyone is ready for a John 6 moment outside a Zaxbys.”

But that’s the point. Jesus is often speaking on one level, and people are hearing Him on another. He’s talking about the soul, and we’re thinking about lunch. He’s talking about eternity, and we’re focused on what’s immediate.

And that’s exactly what’s happening all through the Gospel of John—and right here in John 1.

That’s exactly what’s happening here in John 1. Jesus is asking about what they are really seeking in life, where they are really trying to go, and they think He’s asking where they’re headed at the moment.

But that’s okay. Jesus doesn’t turn them away. Verse 39 tells us that He patiently responds, “Come and you will see.”

And here’s the good news: throughout the Gospel of John, you’ll see Jesus receive people with all kinds of mixed motives. He starts with where you are. But you need to be prepared—He won’t leave your questions untouched. He will transform them.

Maybe you’re here because you think Jesus can help you with a felt need. A marriage issue. A singleness issue. A parenting issue. A financial crisis. A health scare. Maybe you’re afraid of death or anxious about the future. Jesus can help you with all of those things. But the questions He is asking are bigger. A lot of times, we’re thinking down here, and He’s thinking up here.

John tells us that they came, they saw where He was staying, and they stayed with Him that day—it was about the tenth hour, around four in the afternoon. That detail doesn’t advance the story at all. John just remembers it. That’s what you do when you recall a real moment. You remember the small details.

And they didn’t just meet Jesus. They stayed with Him.

That’s the point. Rest isn’t found in a momentary belief or a surface-level interest. Rest is found in abiding—staying—being with Him.

3. Rest Grows as We Follow and Bring Others to Him

After spending time with Jesus, John tells us that one of the two disciples who followed Him was Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother. Andrew goes and finds Simon and says to him, “We have found the Messiah.” And then John adds a small but incredibly important detail: he brought him to Jesus.

That’s it. That’s the whole strategy.

Andrew doesn’t fix Peter. He doesn’t clean him up. He doesn’t prep him. He doesn’t give him a theology lecture or tell him how to behave before meeting Jesus. He just brings him to Jesus.

That’s discipleship. Not fixing people—bringing them.

And when Peter arrives, Jesus looks at him and immediately speaks. He says, “You are Simon, the son of John. You shall be called Cephas.” John explains that Cephas is the Aramaic form of Peter, which is Greek, and both names mean the same thing—rock.

This is where Jesus first meets the apostle Peter, and this moment introduces the second major question Jesus asks in John’s Gospel:

What is your name?

I want you to notice something here. In their very first interaction, Jesus gives Peter a nickname. I love people like that—people who see something in you and name you for it. Do you have any friends like that? I’ve got a couple.

Nicknames have a way of sticking, whether we like them or not. Sometimes they’re earned. Sometimes they’re accidental. Sometimes they’re flattering, and sometimes they’re painfully honest. But they reveal how you’re seen.

Peter isn’t asking for a nickname. He’s not trying to brand himself. But Jesus gives him one anyway—and it’s not random. It’s prophetic.

In verse 42, Jesus moves through three layers of Peter’s identity in one sentence. First, He says, “You are Simon.” That’s who he is right now. Then He says, “the son of John.” That’s his family identity—his background, his past, where he came from. And then Jesus says, “You shall be called Cephas.” Rock. That’s who Jesus is going to make him into.

All of that happens in their very first conversation. What an introduction.

And here’s the lesson for us. When you come to Jesus, you stop being defined by your past—by who your parents were, where you came from, or what shaped you. You stop being defined by your present—by your accomplishments, your failures, or your worst mistakes. And you begin to be defined by who Jesus is shaping you into and the plans He has for your life.

Jesus knows who you are. He knows who you were. And most importantly, He knows who He is making you into.

So let me ask you something. What “name” has defined your past or your present? What names has your Enemy spoken over you?

Stupid. Unloved. Failure. Difficult. A problem. A burden. Not enough. Addict. Broken. Damaged goods. Failed father. Criminal.

Some of those names may accurately describe who you were. Some of them might even feel like who you are right now. But Jesus looks at you and says, “That’s not who you will be.”

He gives you a new name.

Beloved. Chosen. Adopted. Redeemed. Restored. Child of God. A fountain of blessing. A co-heir with Christ.

That’s the name He speaks over you immediately. That’s the identity He gives you before you ever earn it.

And then the pattern continues. Jesus calls Philip with two simple words: “Follow me.” No explanation. Just Follow me

And Philip turns around and tells Nathanael the same thing Jesus told him: “Come and see.”

That’s the rhythm of rest. Jesus says, Come. And we say, Come.

Even Nathanael—skeptical and unimpressed—is seen fully by Jesus. “Before Philip called you, I saw you.”

Being fully known and not rejected.

And Jesus closes this passage by saying He is the true connection between heaven and earth. He is the bridge. He is the meeting place. He is the rest.

Last two verses of this section: John 1:50-51

John 1:50–51 ESV

Jesus answered him, “Because I said to you, ‘I saw you under the fig tree,’ do you believe? You will see greater things than these.” And he said to him, “Truly, truly, I say to you, you will see heaven opened, and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.”

That phrase, “the angels of God ascending and descending,” is intential.

Jesus is intentionally reaching back to the beginning of the Bible, specifically to Genesis 28.

In that chapter, Jacob, the younger son of Isaac, is running for his life because his older brother Esau wants to kill him.

Jacob had cheated Esau out of his birthright, and now the consequences of his deception have caught up with him. He is familyless, virtually penniless, and completely vulnerable. His father, who had protected him from Esau for years, was believed to be on his death bed, which means Jacob is now exposed, afraid, and alone.

It is at that moment, when Jacob is at his lowest point, that he has a dream.

In that dream, he sees what is often translated as a “ladder” between heaven and earth. However, the word “ladder” is actually a poor translation of the Hebrew term.

The word more accurately describes something like a massive ramp, a broad causeway, or a great staircase that firmly connects heaven and earth. On this staircase, Jacob sees angels ascending and descending.

It is important to understand what these angels represent.

Popular culture, especially things like Hallmark movies, has given us a completely inaccurate picture of angels.

Angels are not gentle, soft, harmless figures meant to comfort people with sentimentality.

In Scripture, angels represent the military might of heaven. They are powerful, fearsome beings, which is why nearly every time a human encounters an angel in the Bible, the angel’s first words are some variation of “Do not be afraid.”

In Jacob’s dream, he sees heaven’s mighty forces moving back and forth along this great staircase and the message is clear. God’s power, protection, and presence are now actively at work on Jacob’s behalf.

What makes this moment remarkable is that Jacob does not deserve this help. He is a liar and a cheat, and yet God promises to be with him anyway.

God assures Jacob that He has not abandoned him and that divine help will accompany him on his journey.

Jesus then draws a direct parallel between Jacob and Nathanael. He is essentially telling Nathanael that he is like Jacob.

Nathanael, too, is vulnerable, empty, and aware of his own shortcomings. Just as salvation found Jacob in the wilderness, salvation has found Nathanael under the fig tree. Nathanael did not go looking for this revelation; it came to him in his weakness.

However, Jesus introduces one extraordinary twist to the story. In Genesis 28, Jacob sees angels ascending and descending on a structure.

In John 1, Jesus says that Nathanael will see angels ascending and descending on the Son of Man. By saying this, Jesus is making a profound claim about Himself. He is declaring that He is the true connection between heaven and earth. He is the bridge. He is the mediator. He is the place where God’s presence meets human need.

Y’all, this is an astounding claim. Jesus says, “I am the mighty power of God. All of Heaven’s might resides upon me. I know it doesn’t look like it: I’m just a humble teacher from Nazareth. But the might of God has come to earth as a poor baby, born in a manger—a baby who grew up to be a humble carpenter walking through Jerusalem; a meek man who will lay down his life for his enemies rather than slaying them.

Jesus could have come to earth as the lion, but instead he came as the lamb. Our God showed his real power not by destroying his enemies but by dying for our sin, and then conquering our greatest fear by rising from the grave. And now that Lamb offers salvation to all who will receive it--not just to the strong like Esau, or to all the winners, but to the ones hiding under the fig tree. To any who are humble enough to receive it.

Jacob saw a staircase in a dream, but Nathanael is standing face to face with the reality that staircase pointed to. Jesus is telling Nathanael that God’s power, God’s presence, and God’s salvation come to humanity through Him alone.

This section of Scripture begins with Jesus asking a couple of would-be followers a simple but searching question: “What do you seek?” It ends with Jesus revealing to a man named Nathanael that He knows everything about him and loves him anyway, and then extending the invitation to follow Him. From beginning to end, this passage is about what the human heart is really looking for and how Jesus alone meets that need.

What may surprise you is that the question “What are you seeking?” is not only the first question Jesus asks in the Gospel of John, but it is also one of the last questions He asks. After Jesus has been crucified and resurrected, Mary Magdalene is standing outside the empty tomb, weeping, because she believes someone has taken Jesus’ dead body and she wants to find it so she can embalm it. Of course, Jesus is fully alive and has no need of embalming, but Mary does not yet realize this.

Jesus comes up behind her and asks her the very same question He asked at the beginning of the Gospel: “What are you seeking?” Mary is so overcome with grief and her eyes are so filled with tears that she does not recognize Him. It is at that moment that Jesus does something incredibly simple and deeply personal. He says her name, and He says it tenderly: “Mary.”

That is when she recognizes Him, because that is what she has really been searching for all along. It is the same thing Nathanael was searching for, and it is the same thing you are searching for as well. Beneath all our questions, fears, and longings, we are looking to be known and loved personally.

Ronald Rolheiser captures this reality well when he writes, “In the end, hearing God call our name again with affection is what we are all looking for and most need. It is what gives us substance, identity, and justification beyond our own efforts to make ourselves lovable, worthwhile, and immortal.”

Whether we realize it or not, all of us are searching for something to give us identity, security, and happiness. We are searching for something to fill the gap we feel in our hearts. What we actually need is not a solution, an explanation, or a strategy, but to hear Jesus, the Son of God, affectionately and personally speak our names.

We need to hear Him say, “Larry.” “Linda.” “David.” “Rebecca.” “Michael.” We need to hear Him say, “I see you. I understand you. No one else saw you under that fig tree, that place where you were trying to hide, that place of pain where you were crying out to God and wondering if He was even there. But I saw you. I know your pain. I know your mistakes, your sin, and your shame, and I love you anyway. I have never turned My face away from you. Follow Me.”

So the question that remains is simple and unavoidable. Will you follow Jesus?

I want to ask you to bow your heads for a moment, because right now I believe that for many of you, Jesus is calling your name. You are not hearing it with your ears, but you are hearing it in your soul. You feel the weight of it. You feel the pull of it. You feel the invitation of it. And Scripture is clear that He may not call forever. When Jesus calls, the right response is obedience. The right response is to respond today.

Some of you are weary, and you are tired in ways you cannot even fully articulate. You are tired of striving, tired of pretending, tired of carrying guilt, tired of trying to fix yourself, and tired of trying to hold everything together. Jesus is not asking you to clean yourself up or get your life sorted out before you come to Him. He is inviting you to find your rest in Him by following Him.

And as we close, I want you to notice again the simplicity of evangelism in this story. Philip invites Nathanael to Jesus, and Nathanael immediately raises objections. He is skeptical, dismissive, and full of questions. Philip does not argue with him. He does not feel pressure to answer every concern. He simply says, “Come and see.” Philip trusts that once Nathanael encounters Jesus, Jesus will do the rest.

For some of you, that is exactly what God is calling you to do during this season. There is someone in your life who is weary, searching, and restless, and God is placing them on your heart right now. You want to invite them to encounter Jesus, but you are afraid they will push back, ask hard questions, or dismiss the invitation altogether. You may feel like you do not know enough or are not prepared to defend everything they might say.

But you do not have to answer every question. You can simply say what Philip said. You can tell them what Jesus has done in your life, how He has met you in your weariness, and how He has given you rest. Then you can invite them to come and see for themselves. That is something you can do.

So let me ask you plainly. Who do you need to pray for? Who is God putting on your heart right now? Who in your life is tired, worn down, and searching for something they cannot quite name? Jesus is still calling the weary to Himself, and He often does it through the simple invitation of His people.

And for you personally, if Jesus is calling your name right now, do not ignore it. Do not delay it. Do not assume you will feel this same invitation later. Respond today, because the weary find their rest in Jesus, and rest is found by following Him.