I always thought I needed 9 hours of sleep to be rested.

I thought it came from space to breathe, being at home, time to myself.

I thought I needed periodic vacations, occasional stretches of getting away for a few days.

I thought it came from balance. Of time, energy, resources, friendships.


But I think I’m realizing that Jesus brings us rest in the mess of life.

When I receive a phone call I think I just don’t have the energy to take.

When I hop from responsibility to responsibility and I feel as if I just don’t have anything more to give.

When painful situations arise, one after another, and I barely have time to seek counsel.

When I’m tempted to check out, numb out, sleep it away.


Rest comes from crying out to Jesus.

When I acknowledge his presence, he restores my soul.

He leads me on a path of denying myself, dying to my flesh, losing my life. All for the sake of the Kingdom.

And in the midst of the funk he provides rest. Brevity, comfort, and delight.


I thought I had to provide rest for myself. But he brings it to me.

in unexpected affirming words, prayer offerings, gentle shoulder squeezes, bursts of laughter, and

a knowing.

I know it will be a ‘good’ day when I wake up with this song in my head.