The Sacred Work of Rest

I’ve lived through seasons where slowing down felt impossible—where rest felt like a reward I had to earn, or a luxury I didn’t deserve. In a culture that worships hustle and glorifies exhaustion, rest can feel like a weakness. But it isn’t. Rest is not laziness—it’s leadership. It’s listening. It’s choosing to honor your body, your emotional capacity, your nervous system, and the limits God lovingly designed you to have. Scripture reminds us of this truth: “Come to Me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). Rest is a gift from God, not a sign of inadequacy.

Rest recalibrates. It restores. It reminds you that you are more than what you produce, more than the roles you fill, more than the expectations placed on you. When you allow yourself to pause, your mind settles, your spirit softens, and you return to your life with clarity, energy, and intention. “He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside still waters; He restores my soul” (Psalm 23:2–3). Rest is restoration—Divine, intentional, and deeply human.

I’ve learned, sometimes the hard way, that we don’t rest after we’ve earned it. We rest because we’re human. Because we break. Because we heal. Because we need God. And you, my friend, are allowed to breathe. You are allowed to put something down. You are allowed to step back so you can step forward with a full heart. “In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and trust shall be your strength” (Isaiah 30:15).

If you’re unsure where to begin, start with small, nourishing rhythms that allow your whole being to exhale. Give yourself five quiet minutes in the morning before reaching for your phone, letting your breath slow while you whisper a prayer of gratitude. Step outside in the middle of the day and let the sky remind you of God’s vastness. Make space in the evening to unwind—a warm shower, soft lighting, a comforting tea—giving your nervous system permission to settle. Let yourself be still long enough to hear your own thoughts and God’s gentle whisper beneath them. And when your body signals fatigue, honor it without apology, trusting “He gives His beloved sleep” (Psalm 127:2). These small acts of rest are not indulgent—they are sacred.