The Gift of Sabbath

When I think of Sabbath, of someone who truly knows how to rest—my mind doesn’t go to a pastor, a book, or a perfectly curated morning routine. It goes straight to my dog. Honestly, he’s a certified rester. No guilt. No agenda. No rushing. He doesn’t need permission to nap. He doesn’t wonder if he’s earned it. If there’s a sunny spot on the floor, he takes it. If he’s tired, he lays down. If he’s awake, he’s present. That’s it. And somehow… the world keeps spinning.

Yesterday we talked about rhythm—finding a pace that isn’t rushed and learning how to move through life with intention. So today might feel a little contradictory at first. Rhythm… then rest? But maybe they’re not opposites at all. Maybe rest is actually part of the rhythm.

And if I’m being honest, this topic is a little to close too home… because rest is something I am extremely bad at. Love rhythm, hate rest. Like, Olympic-level bad. If there were an award for least likely to rest, I’d win it. Gold medal. No contest needed . And if you need proof that I’m not just saying this for dramatic effect—look at my 2024. I worked a full-time, 9–5, Monday-Friday job… and then I side-hustled way too hard. I’m talking nearly 30 weddings. Thirty. Weekends gone. Any “free” time filled with timelines, emails, and meetings. There no breathing room. No real rest. And here’s the worst part—I can’t even blame anyone else. I did it to myself.

Have you ever noticed how uncomfortable rest can feel? Not tired rest—intentional rest. The kind where nothing is required of you. We say we want rest… but when it actually shows up, we don’t always know what to do with it. I didn’t realize how bad I was at Sabbath until I accidentally tried to keep one. It wasn’t planned. No color-coded schedule. Just a rare, open day with nowhere to be and nothing pressing to do. I remember thinking, This is nice, and then immediately feeling the urge to fill it. Laundry. Emails. Errands. Something, I was desperate to prove the day wasn’t being wasted. That’s when it hit me... rest makes me anxious because it requires trust.

God didn’t design Sabbath as a reward for finishing everything. He designed it as a rhythm. Before there were emails, deadlines, or calendars, God rested. Not because He was tired, but because rest was part of what made the work good. Exodus 20:8 says, "Remember to observe the Sabbath day by keeping it holy." Not optimize it. Not earn it. Remember it. That day I tried to rest, I sat on the couch longer than usual. The house wasn’t spotless. My inbox wasn’t empty. Andddd the best part, the world didn’t fall apart. For the first time in a while, I wasn’t asking, what’s next? I was simply present.

Sabbath isn’t about inactivity—it’s about intention. It’s choosing to stop striving long enough to remember who’s actually in control. It’s resisting the urge to measure your worth by what you produce. It’s trusting that God can handle what you set down for a moment. I’ve learned that when I ignore Sabbath, life starts to feel loud. Everything becomes urgent. Joy feels delayed. But when I honor it—even imperfectly, I remember that I’m not the one holding everything together. And that truth is freeing. Sabbath creates space for joy because it creates space for God.

Sometimes Sabbath looks like worship. Sometimes it looks like a nap. Sometimes it looks like a long walk, a quiet morning, a slow meal, or saying no without explaining yourself. It’s not about rules, it’s about restoration. What Sabbath may look like for me, may look different to you. Jesus reminds us in Mark 2:27, “The Sabbath was made to meet the needs of people, and not people to meet the requirement of the Sabbath. ” It was made for our good. I learned the hard way, learning that Sabbath doesn’t mean life stops—it means striving does. It’s a weekly reminder that God is still God even when I’m still. That joy doesn’t come from pushing harder, but from trusting deeper.

And when I allow myself to rest—really rest—joy doesn’t feel so far away. It feels close. Familiar. Like it was waiting for me to slow down enough to notice.

PS - I hope my husband reads this, because y'all he's just as guilty at not resting. 😏

SHE Walks in Faith

Sabbath invites us to notice where rest has been replaced with hurry. Take a moment and reflect on where God might be calling you to stop, not do more.

• When rest makes you feel guilty instead of grateful

• When your days off look just as busy as your workdays

• When silence feels uncomfortable and you rush to fill it

• When productivity defines your worth

• When saying no feels harder than being exhausted

• When you bring your phone everywhere—even into rest

• When you feel responsible for holding everything together

• When joy feels postponed until “after things settle down”

• When your body is present but your mind never stops

• When rest feels optional instead of sacred

  
  

Pause today and ask God what Sabbath could look like for you—not perfectly, but intentionally. He doesn’t demand your rest. He invites it.

🩷 Prayer

God, help me see Sabbath as a gift, not a burden. Teach me to stop striving and trust You with what I lay down. Restore my body, quiet my mind, and remind my heart that I am loved apart from what I do. Help me rest in You. Amen.