The Ministry of Rest

Rest as radical self care... who knew?!

Last weekend, I took a nap.

I know. You’re already jealous.

It wasn’t just a casual, fall-asleep-on-the-couch kind of nap. This was a deliberate, shut-the-blinds, pull-up-the-blankets, tuck-in-the-dog, phone-on-do-not-disturb kind of nap. A nap with intention. A nap with mission and vision.

The world did not fall apart while I slept. My children, miraculously, survived the two hours without hearing their names called 4,000 times. No one set the kitchen on fire. The laundry, believe it or not, waited for me. God bless her.

When I woke up, I felt something I hadn’t felt in weeks: present. Like I had fully arrived in my own body. Not five minutes ahead in the to-do list. Not three hours behind in guilt. Just… here.

And it got me thinking - when did rest become so radical?

I don’t know who needs to hear this (probably me, on a loop), but rest is not laziness. It’s not indulgent. It’s not weak or selfish or something you "earn." It is holy. Necessary. Biblical, even. (Hello, seventh day.)

We talk a lot about hustle. We glamorize exhaustion. We treat burnout like a badge of honor. “How are you?” “Oh, you know. Just busy.” It’s the socially acceptable way of saying, I’m drowning but at least I’m productive.

But here's the truth: there is a ministry in doing nothing.

There is healing in putting your phone down, turning off the mental to-do list, and letting your soul catch up to your body. There's restoration in staring at the ceiling fan spin and realizing it's the most peaceful thing you've seen in a week.

I’ve spent a lot of my adult life believing I needed to earn rest. As if rest was the reward at the end of a long day instead of the fuel I needed to get through it. But Jesus didn’t nap after performing miracles. He napped right in the middle of a storm. That’ll preach.

So this week, I’m practicing the sacred art of sitting still.

I'm putting my feet up and letting my coffee get cold while I finish a chapter in a book. I’m lighting a candle in the middle of a Tuesday. I’m pulling away when the world tells me to press harder. I’m resting - not because I’m done, but because I’m human.

Maybe today, your soul needs permission to do the same. So here it is:

You don’t have to hustle your way to worthiness. You don’t have to finish the checklist before you sit down. You don’t have to prove your productivity to anyone, least of all yourself.

Close your eyes. Take the nap. Cancel the thing. Stare at the ceiling fan.

Let your body teach your soul that it’s okay to be still.