The Practice of Rest

Wednesday, June 24, 2026
written by Rev. Erik Khoobyarian

When was the last time you truly rested?

At first glance, the answer might seem obvious. We rest when work is finished. We rest on vacation. We rest on weekends. We rest in retirement. Yet many of us know from experience that these things are not necessarily the same as rest.

One of the great ironies of modern life is that people with very little free time and people with abundant free time often struggle with the same thing. Neither knows quite how to rest.

The young parent spends the day shuttling children between activities and collapses into bed exhausted. The executive races from meeting to meeting and wonders why there is never enough time. The retiree finally reaches a season of freedom only to discover that the calendar quickly fills with appointments, commitments, volunteer work, travel, family obligations, and countless other responsibilities. And sometimes even when our calendars are not full, we find ourselves restless, anxious. Different circumstances. Similar weariness.

Perhaps the problem is that we often think of rest as the absence of activity. If we can just clear enough space on the calendar, we tell ourselves, rest will naturally follow.

But rest does not always happen automatically.

A person can spend an entire day doing very little and still feel depleted. Another can spend an afternoon walking, gardening, reading, praying, or sharing a meal with friends and emerge feeling renewed. The difference is not simply what happened. The difference is whether the soul had room to breathe.

This is where the Christian tradition offers something deeper than many of the conversations we hear about wellness, productivity, or work-life balance.

From the opening pages of scripture, rest is woven into the rhythm of creation itself. Before it was a commandment, Sabbath was a gift. God established a pattern in which work and rest belong together. Human beings were never intended to live in a constant state of striving.

Yet our culture often sends a different message.

We are encouraged to measure our worth by our productivity. We celebrate achievement, efficiency, and accomplishment. We learn to ask one another, "What did you get done today?" Rarely do we ask, "What restored your spirit today?"

Even when we recognize our need for rest, many of us struggle to embrace it. Some feel guilty when they are not accomplishing something. Others fear falling behind. Still others have spent so many years in motion that stillness itself begins to feel uncomfortable. This is an area where I struggle, and I’ve never fully understood why. On some level, it is fear – fear of not being of value, fear of not contributing; but there’s more to it than fear. And I do wonder if part of the inability to rest is really an inability to accept that God continues to work even when I rest.

At its heart, rest is an act of trust.

When we rest, we acknowledge that the world can continue without our constant management. We remember that God is God and we are not. We release, if only for a moment, the illusion that everything depends upon us.

This does not mean withdrawing from responsibility. It does not mean laziness. It does not mean disengaging from the world around us.

Rather, rest creates space for us to reconnect with the things that matter most. It allows us to notice beauty. To listen more carefully. To enjoy relationships. To become aware of God's presence. To remember that our value comes not from what we produce, but from the One to whom we belong.

Perhaps this is why rest remains important in every season of life.

For some, rest may mean sitting quietly with a cup of coffee before the day begins. For others, it may be a walk through the neighborhood, time in prayer, an afternoon spent with loved ones, reading a good book, or simply turning off the constant stream of noise that surrounds us. The specifics will differ from person to person. What matters is intentionality.

Rest is not merely what remains when everything else is finished.

Rest is a deliberate choice.

In a world that prizes productivity, efficiency, and achievement, choosing to rest can feel almost rebellious. Yet perhaps this is exactly what makes rest such an important spiritual practice. It reminds us that we are more than what we accomplish. It invites us to step out of the endless cycle of doing and rediscover the gift of simply being.

So perhaps the question is not whether we have enough time to rest.

Perhaps the better question is whether we are willing to receive rest as the gift God intends it to be.

As you move through the week ahead, consider these questions:

What truly brings you rest?

When was the last time you felt rested in body, mind, and spirit?

What might it look like to create even a few moments of intentional rest in the days ahead?

The invitation is simple. Not to do more. Not to accomplish more.

Simply to rest.