The Reverence of Rest

The week after Christmas, leading up to the New Year, has always been a time that I look forward to the most. I know that seems a bit odd, but to me, it seems that the last week of the year has a way of forcing time to slow down a bit, and the calendar almost fades into the background. The urgency that somehow seems to have made its way into our daily routine grows quieter – just for a moment. It is during this week that something honest begins to surface.

For some, the holiday decorations come down (not at my house, we are going to keep them up as long as possible). The home does not seem to be as loud, and the adrenaline of rushing off to the next thing decreases. This sounds warm and so inviting. But for some, it is also a time that exposes the weight of what has seemed so heavy throughout the year.

Sometimes it can be a difficult thing to admit when we are faced with the truth that we spend most of our day overlooking. Even though it is one of my most favorite times of the year, I am also faced with the reality of just how tired I am – not just physically – but emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. The kind of tiredness that does not send a text and tell you that it is here. The kind that shows up through that constant low-grade sense of pressure that so easily attaches itself to our lives. Yet paired so perfectly with that level of fatigue is something else that always seems to keep me grounded: gratitude.

2025 was not a perfect year, but it was a faithful one. It was a year that required a good bit of endurance. There were many days that I worked countless hours just to meet the deadline, only to turn around and start the week again to do the same exact thing. The hours I spent reading, studying, and pondering academics were so often squeezed into the typical 40-hour workweek (which is Monday-Thursday for me). I had to say no to plans more often than I wanted to, and make hard decisions when it came to doing what I really wanted to do over what I knew I needed to do.

There were many weeks that I lost track of time over the past year, and others seemed to drag on as if God had decided to stop the clock again. Some days I found strength in prayer, and others remained silent (I know, I know, we are supposed to pray always and be super spiritual… I am still working on that part). I filled several pages in my journal with deep theological insight, and on other days, I did not even open it. Some weeks I could not hardly wait to gather together and worship at Church, and then there were weeks where I had to force myself to remember that I needed to be there to play the piano because other people wanted to worship.

All in all, 2025 was a year of becoming. There were moments of accomplishment and success, but also moments where we simply felt as though we fell short of the expectation. There were times when we laughed until we cried, and then there were other times when we just cried. We gathered with friends and traveled to some of our favorite places, and we also spent many evenings nestled on the couch to watch our favorite shows when we could spare a moment or two. That has quickly become something we look forward to as a way of recharging from a long day of demands.

I have come to learn that not every season of my life was meant to be summarized by achievement. Some seasons are best defined by our determination, while others are best illustrated by our intentionality. But the most sacred moments are those that are embraced from a posture of rest.

Quietly hidden in the moments that we look forward to most in our lives is the profound truth that we require rest. The reason that this week is one I look forward to year after year is because it is a time of rest.

Scripture teaches us something completely opposite to what culture says. Our society says that rest is something that we earn after we have proven ourselves. Once you have worked for a number of days, you earn the time off, and that cycle continues. The longer you work and remain dedicated to your craft, the more time off you are able to accumulate, and that will be the time that you are able to rest. Christ reveals to us that rest is possible in the middle of unfinished work. If we look closer at His life, we will find that He withdrew regularly, intentionally, and unapologetically. Jesus knew how necessary it was to stew away from the crowd, the expectations, and even a good opportunity or two because stillness was not a luxury – it was a rhythm.

Jesus seems to have understood something that so many of us forget: faithfulness is not measured by output alone.

Chronic exhaustion is more common than we would like to admit. It does not just make us tired – it begins to reshape us. When our nervous system remains in a constant state of alert, our capacity for discernment begins to decrease. Everything around us starts to feel urgent and heavy. The good things begin to be overlooked and can even begin to feel like burdens. Ultimately, this kind of depletion will lead to an obstructed view of God.

When we are exhausted, and rest is categorized only as a reward, we begin to view God as a taskmaster rather than our refuge. We start to confuse obedience with overextension, and we baptize burnout with spiritual language and somehow call it devotion. But rest – true rest – is not disengagement. It is trust embraced.

Rest somehow knows how to say “God, I believe You are at work even when I am not striving.” Actual spiritual growth happens through moments of faithfulness, not force. We are not called to push harder; we are called to remain present in His presence. When we learn to assume the posture of rest throughout the year, it does not interrupt progress; it shapes purpose.

2026 can be the threshold for you to release rest as your reward and begin embracing it as your strategy. When you learn the power of rest, you begin to understand the depths of faithfulness. Rest is not your last resort when you have failed or when you have run out of options. It is not your reward for when you have over exhausted yourself at the expense of spiritual proximity. Rest is your strategy to re-orient you to a place that reminds you that you were never the source of your ability in the first place. It is the sticky note that should be on your computer screen to reinforce the truth that you were not meant to carry everything and be everything. God’s faithfulness to pour out His grace and mercy is never dependent upon our ability to perform.

I want to encourage you to find your posture of rest this year. This may look different depending on your season. Do not assume that my posture of rest should be the example you use. For some, it may look like getting some really good sleep (I personally enjoy a routine nap on Sunday afternoon, if you know anything about naps, Sunday afternoon naps are Michelin Star rated). Others may think that a nap is a waste of time, but rest is not dependent upon opinions, it’s an act of obedience.

Some may find rest by simply releasing expectations and learning to say no without providing an explanation. This one has quickly become my favorite! Read this next sentence very slowly. You do not owe anyone an explanation for your decisions. Some may want to read that again. Others may find rest in resisting the urge to buy that annual planner that you buy every year, fully expecting to map out your entire year, only to stop using it by January 25th. Rest may look like expressing gratitude without any pressure to improve it (this one captivated me – think about it). Simply being present without productivity is the rhythm of rest.

Rest is not deciding to quit or give up and throw your hands up. You can call it rest if you want to, but there are some things that we cannot walk away from. Rest is not finding complacency in your situation and settling for what you would call “just the way it is supposed to be.” Rest is not weakness to those who may seem to be reaching success or achievements at a quicker pace than you, trust me, they are exhausted.

Rest is obedience practiced quietly.

I will write that one more time just encase you missed it. Rest is obedience practiced quietly.

Rest does not need it’s own announcement. It does not strut itself in front of others, pridefully hoping to receive some sort of jealous response. Rest does not require you to analyze others or compare yourself to the top 10 most rested individuals you know. Rest is not contingent upon your financial status. Rest is simply a posture of obedience to the life that Christ has called you to live; healthy, whole, and nothing missing.

Rest is simply the place where striving loosens its grip and trust finally learns to breathe. It is the quiet agreement that you were never meant to carry everything alone.

Rest is your participation in faith, believing that God’s presence is enough, over and over again.

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” Matthew 11:28-29 (ESV)

T.J.C.