When God Says Rest, He Really Means Rest

This past year I interviewed a woman named Dr. Saundra Dalton-Smith on The Collide Podcast. She wrote a book called Sacred Rest. It was a fascinating conversation where she emphasized seven distinct types of rest essential for our well-being, but perhaps what struck me most was that she challenged many of the things we do to seek “rest”. She suggested that we often turn to things for rest that are actually not restful. Does Netflix binge-watching rest or drain us? Does our day off, going from this social thing to that social thing, renew our soul? Does travelling to faraway places refresh our weary hearts? Maybe, but also, maybe not.

I don’t know about you, but I hit a tired wall this year. Between ministry life, family life, losing my dad, grief, expanding Collide into other cities, and finishing two books, I felt like I was in mile 25 of a marathon, but that last mile lasted for like 6 months. Running and running and running and…I knew God was calling me to real rest, and that if I didn’t get it, the consequences would begin to spill out sideways. So I am doing it. I am intentionally taking a big ol’ rest this summer. My goal is to get bored. I want to feel the breeze on my face. I want to ride a bike by the shore. I want to read a book because I get to and not because I have to. I want to spit watermelon seeds and go to a hootenanny. I want to spend time in the Scriptures and not have to be somewhere in a hurry. I want to have a few days where there is no need to look at a calendar. And you know what? I don’t want to feel ashamed about it. I don’t want to feel guilty either. I want to trust that when God says rest, He really means rest.

I want to run straight smack dab into the God who Himself took a rest. He created the butterfly and the crocodile, the Pacific Ocean and Antarctica, the galaxies and the planets, and Adam and Eve, and then He kicked his heels up, drank a lemonade, and watched the shooting stars. And what’s even crazier is when our Creator decided to come be with His creation, He “often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.” (Luke 5:16) And we never read, “What a slacker.”

Yet for some reason, when we think about slowing down, pausing, stopping, not showing up for everyone else, we feel this immense shame as though taking a break is weak. Well, guess what, the One who could boss the wind and waves around and they would listen, the One who could wither a fig tree with a word, the One who could heal a leper, even He drew strength in solitude.

What if I challenged you while I challenge myself… Where do you want to be really strong? Where do you want to be ready? Where do you want to be unwavering? What if all of this is found not in the doing but in the being, not in the hustle, but in the stillness? What if you keep putting this real rest off because you think the striving and performing and proving and chasing will get you what you long for, when in actuality, drawing strength from the Father in the lonely places, that will get you what you need? That will ready you for the opportunities that lie ahead.

If you’re like me, you run hard. But every once in a while, and much more than we tend to, it’s necessary to take off our kicks, draw away from the crowd, and watch the shooting stars too. It won’t be the next episode of the Kardashians that will fill you, it will be the Father’s hand holding yours. But you won’t notice it unless you slow down. Someone painted that sunset, made that baby, fed that bluejay. It will be the Father’s Word that will strengthen you. But you won’t hear it if you don’t turn down all the noises that compete with His voice. It will be the Father’s pursuit that will recharge you. But you won’t notice it if you don’t stop long enough to see all the intricate ways He has been moving things around to get to you. It will be the Father’s heart that will woo you. But you won’t feel it if you don’t say no to something, so you can say yes to Him.

Jesus might have drawn away to what looked like a lonely place. But when He got there, He was never alone. The Father was there, and Jesus knew that. Jesus knew He could find all He needed to heal the masses, set the captives free, and feed the hungry. He didn’t find it in the crowd. He didn’t find it at the temple. He didn’t find it fishing with his bros. He found it in the still, quiet, tucked-away places. And once Jesus went there, He would return to the crowds, enabled to teach, love, help, and rescue.

So, friend, it might be time to draw on the strength you need to ready yourself to do what you were made for. You won’t be lonely. I promise. Jesus is there waiting for you.

XOXO,