The Gift of Rest

Just the thought of it fills me with distress. As each day passes and the foreboding date on the calendar draws near, my inner angst increases. Whenever an extended break from work or vacation approaches on the calendar, anxiety rears its ugly head again. It is not that I don’t love spending time with my family; certainly, I do, but anytime plans curb my routine, I am confronted with the sobering truth: control is an illusion.

You see, I love to work. At one level, I love work because I love what I do. Work is a wonderful gift. But my inability to rest isn’t a symptom of my love for work, but my desire to maintain control over my life. It is moments of rest where God reminds me I am a “creature,” and as a creature, any sense of sovereignty is a mirage [1].

What is rest? Rest is not laziness. Rest is a practical way of recognizing our creaturely limitations.

So, I reason that rest is a gift because it is a reminder of God’s sovereignty, our creaturely need, and God’s life-producing grace.

Rest is a Reminder of God’s Sovereignty

As I write this, I am sitting at the nature center near my house. As I look out the window on a cold, sunny spring morning after the previous day’s drenching rains, new life is bursting into existence before my eyes. This new life reminds me of God’s sovereignty, God’s care, and God’s control.

I really enjoy landscaping. After the ground thaws and the first sign of spring arrives, I can’t wait to put my shovel into the ground. There is something unique and special about the ability to design and make something from the raw elements of creation. But that is just it, I am only taking something that God has already made and rearranging it; I am not actually making anything new. When I get the new plants in the ground, I can water the new growth, but I can’t actually produce the growth. Only God can do that. I can labor, but the true work that actually occurs happens when I rest. The psalmist reminds us of this truth when he says, “He covers the heavens with clouds; he prepares rain for the earth; he makes grass grow on the hills. He gives to the beasts their food, and to the young ravens that cry. His delight is not in the strength of the horse, nor his pleasure in the legs of a man, but the Lord takes pleasure in those who fear him, in those who hope in his steadfast love” (Ps 147:8-11).

The Lord takes pleasure not in our feeble show of strength, or clinging to the misguided dream that we can produce life, but in those who recognize their utter “dependence” on his sovereignty and strength. To borrow words from Kelly Kapic, “to be human is to be dependent on the Creator Lord” [2].

Rest is a Reminder of Our Need

Second, rest is a reminder of our need. John Korir recently won the Boston Marathon in record-setting fashion. Running a marathon in 2:01:52, averaging a 4:39 mile, is borderline super-human. But even those gifted with herculean athletic abilities need rest. God, on the other hand, does not. He “does not faint or grow weary” (Is 40:28). God is always working (John 5:17). Pause and consider for a moment that God is never in need; he never grows tired; he never becomes hungry; he never experiences emotional distress; he is never perplexed or stumped. By definition, God is the only “self-sufficient” One [3].

When we rest, we are reminded of our need and God’s self-sufficiency, our dependence, and his power. So, here are some encouragements. When you have a busy day, spend an additional 15 minutes reading and meditating on God’s Word. This may sound counterintuitive, but doing so is a reminder of your need for Christ in everything. Here is another suggestion. This coming week, choose 24 hours to turn off your phone, close the lid of your computer, and spend time with God and others.

Rest is a Reminder of God’s Grace in Christ

But perhaps the biggest thing that rest teaches us is the riches of the gospel. God in Christ makes us alive solely apart from any work or effort on our part. Indeed, faith itself is a gift. As Paul says, “And you, who were dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made alive together with him, having forgiven us all our trespasses” (Col 2:13). A corpse cannot do anything. It is just there, totally incapacitated. But that is the point. It is by God’s work and grace that we receive new life.

Taking intentional time to rest, to remove yourself from the relentless current of life and rest on the still shore, is a reminder of the never-ending stream of God’s grace that flows from the very heart of Christ.

Labor to Rest

So, my encouragement is to work, not idolatrously as a creator, but as a dependent creature. Embrace rest as a gift. See it as a constant reminder of your daily reliance on the Creator, and Sustainer of life. Very practically, this means engaging in healthy rhythms of rest: daily, weekly, monthly, and annually. Daily set aside time to rest in God’s presence. Find a distraction-free space. Take a weekly sabbath for 24 hours. Power down your phone, don’t check your email, spend time with others, and go for a prayer-walk.

Once a month, take a clarity day. Gratefully reflect on the past several weeks, and prayerfully anticipate the month to come. Clarity days are a new concept that Pastor Jeremy introduced to me. Although not always easy to take a day or even a half-day to recalibrate, the times I have taken this intentional time have been very life-giving. Not only have these days provided direction for the month to come, but they have helped me approach life with a posture of gratitude to God by reflecting on the ways he has worked over the past month.

Finally, step away from life’s demands annually for an extended period. When I have rested for an extended period, you know what I have discovered? The sun still rises, the world still spins. Surprised? As one of my professors once told me, “Sabbath is God’s way of reminding me that I am not as big a deal as I think I am.” What a freeing truth that is.

Rest is a gift. Will you receive it?

‍

Works Cited

[1] I am indebted to Kelly M. Kapic’s thorough treatment on the distinction between us as creatures and God as creator. Kelly M. Kapic, You’re Only Human: How Your Limits Reflect God’s Design and Why That’s Good News (Grand Rapids, MI: BrazosPress, 2022), 12.

‍

[2] Kapic, 71.

‍

[3] Kapic, 190.