rest that heals
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." — Matthew 11:28
If I'm honest, I've spent much of my life believing that being responsible meant carrying as much as I possibly could. I wanted to provide for my family, protect the people I loved, prepare for the future, solve problems before they happened, and stay one step ahead of whatever life might throw at us. None of those desires are wrong. In fact, they sound like admirable goals. But somewhere along the way, I quietly began believing that being strong meant carrying more and resting less. I thought faithfulness looked like constant productivity. What God has been showing me recently is that I didn't just struggle with worry—I struggled with presence. I struggled to truly rest in Him.
When I say "rest," I'm not talking about taking a nap or going on vacation. I'm talking about the kind of rest Jesus offers—the kind that settles your soul. The kind that reminds you that you're not responsible for holding the entire world together. So many of us live with lives that are packed full of work, responsibilities, schedules, sports, projects, phones, and endless noise. We stay busy from the moment we wake up until the moment we fall into bed exhausted. Then we wonder why we feel spiritually dry. The truth is, we've become so accustomed to doing that we've forgotten how to simply be with God.
Looking back, I can see that this pattern started much earlier than I realized. As a child, I worried constantly. I worried about money, security, and the future. Those fears slowly shaped the way I approached life. I convinced myself that if I worked harder, stayed busy enough, and carried enough responsibility, I could somehow keep everything from falling apart. That mindset followed me into adulthood. My career became closely tied to my identity. Providing for my family became how I measured my worth. Then Amy and I had children, and life became even busier. Sports, school, practices, travel ball, work, bills, and endless schedules filled every available space on the calendar. We never intentionally pushed God aside. We were simply too busy to notice that He was slowly being moved to the edges of our lives.
The older I get, the more convinced I become that busyness is one of the enemy's most effective distractions. He doesn't always have to tempt us into obvious sin. Sometimes all he has to do is keep us so occupied that we stop sitting with Jesus. We remain active in good things while quietly drifting away from the One who gives those things meaning.
One story that has challenged me deeply is the account of Martha and Mary in Luke 10. Martha was doing everything that seemed right. She was serving, preparing meals, cleaning, and making sure everything was ready for Jesus. Meanwhile, Mary simply sat at His feet and listened. Martha became frustrated because she felt like she was carrying the entire workload herself. But Jesus gently reminded her that Mary had chosen what was truly important.
If I'm honest, I relate far more to Martha than Mary.
I always feel like there's something that needs to be accomplished. Something to improve. Something to fix. Something to prepare. That story reminds me that it's possible to become so busy serving God that we stop spending time with Him. Ministry without intimacy eventually becomes empty. Parenting without connection becomes transactional. Work becomes our identity. Fitness becomes an idol. I've watched every one of those patterns surface in my own life at different times.
As Amy and I raised our children, our family schedule became incredibly full. We loved watching our kids compete in sports, and there were so many wonderful memories created during those years. Sports teach discipline, perseverance, teamwork, and character. None of those things are bad. But somewhere along the way, our calendar became so full that there was very little room left for stillness with God. We were constantly running from one event to another, exhausted by the pace of life. Looking back, I realize we were surviving more than abiding. We deeply loved our children, but I sometimes wonder if we unintentionally modeled activity more than dependence on Christ. I don't think we're the only family that's fallen into that trap. So many families today are busy every single evening, constantly rushing from one commitment to the next, while their souls quietly grow weary.
God recently brought this lesson back into my own life through something I never expected. I've shared before how exercise slowly became an idol for me. What began as a healthy desire to take care of my body gradually became something I depended on emotionally. I enjoyed feeling productive. I liked being disciplined. I liked feeling in control. Without realizing it, my workouts became more important than my quiet time with God. The workouts grew longer while my time with Him became shorter. One day God revealed something that stopped me in my tracks: I had become physically stronger while growing spiritually weaker. That realization was painful because outwardly I looked disciplined, but inwardly I was drifting again.
What I've learned is that idols rarely begin as sinful things. More often, they begin as good gifts that quietly become ultimate priorities. Work, ministry, parenting, fitness, success, even serving others can become dangerous when they replace our dependence on God. Recently, I've also been dealing with some health challenges, and rather than seeing them as punishment, I've begun to see them differently. God has used those struggles to slow me down and realign my heart. Sometimes hardship isn't God's judgment. Sometimes it's His invitation. An invitation to pray more deeply. To trust more fully. To depend on Him instead of ourselves. Looking back over my life, some of my greatest spiritual growth has happened during seasons I never would have chosen.
As I've intentionally slowed down, spending more time in prayer, fasting, meditating on Scripture, and simply sitting quietly before God, I've noticed something remarkable. I don't just feel healthier spiritually. I feel healthier emotionally and physically as well. Not because every problem has disappeared, but because my soul is finally breathing again. I've come to realize that many of the struggles I face are exposing areas where I've been relying on myself instead of Christ. God isn't always trying to remove the struggle. Sometimes He's using it to remove my self-reliance.
Jesus said the greatest commandment is to love the Lord with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength. Lately I've been asking myself a difficult question: Do I truly love God first, or do I simply fit Him into whatever time is left over? There have been seasons when work came first. Other seasons when productivity came first. Times when stress, schedules, or responsibilities occupied the place that belonged to Him. Yet every time I begin drifting, Jesus gently calls me back with the same invitation: Sit with Me. Walk with Me. Trust Me. Rest in Me. Not someday when life slows down. Today.
I think many of us are exhausted not because we're doing bad things, but because we're carrying burdens we were never meant to carry alone. We believe the answer is another productivity system, another schedule adjustment, another podcast, or another strategy for managing life. Sometimes the answer is much simpler than that.
Sometimes the answer is sitting quietly at the feet of Jesus again.
I've discovered that when I consistently spend time with Him, I'm more peaceful, more present, and less driven by fear or performance. My circumstances don't instantly improve, and life certainly doesn't become easier. But my soul becomes steadier.
Maybe that's what true rest really is.
Not escaping responsibility…
But learning to carry life with Jesus instead of trying to carry it by yourself.
