In a world that glorifies hustle and applauds exhaustion, choosing rest can feel like rebellion. But from the very beginning, rest wasn’t a weakness to overcome—it was a divine gift woven into the fabric of creation.

In Genesis 2, after six days of crafting the universe, God rested. Not because He was weary, but because He was modeling something holy for us: a rhythm of work and restoration, of pouring out and being filled again.

“By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work.”
— Genesis 2:2

If the Creator Himself paused, what makes us believe we’re exempt from the need to do the same?

Rest is not a luxury. It is a necessity. It is in rest that our bodies mend, our souls breathe, and our spirits are re-centered in the presence of God. Even Jesus, fully divine and fully human, frequently withdrew from the crowds—not to escape His calling, but to sustain it.

“But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.”
— Luke 5:16

He knew what we so easily forget: that we cannot pour from an empty cup. Our effectiveness in ministry, relationships, and even our daily tasks hinges not on how much we do, but how deeply we are rooted.

Sabbath was given to us as a delight, not a burden. It’s a sacred pause to remind us that our worth does not depend on what we produce, but on Whose we are.

“The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.”
— Mark 2:27

Rest teaches us trust. When we pause, we declare that the world will not fall apart without us. We acknowledge God’s sovereignty and remember that we are not machines—we are beloved, embodied souls, invited into rhythms of grace.

So today, friend, if you are weary, let this be your permission slip:
Step back. Breathe deeply. Go outside. Say no. Sleep in. Journal. Laugh. Weep. Walk slowly. Let God restore you—not in the margins of your life, but in the center of it.

Because we are not meant to burn out for the sake of faith.
We are meant to abide.

And it is in the abiding—where striving ceases and grace meets us—that true recovery begins.