It is possible to stop working without actually resting.
You can leave the office while continuing the conversation in your head. You can sit down while mentally working through tomorrow’s list. You can take a day off and spend most of it thinking about everything you aren’t getting done. You can even go on vacation and bring your worries with you.
Sometimes our bodies stop long before our minds do.
Last week I wrote about Jesus telling His disciples, “Come away…and rest a while.” There is something important about recognizing our limits and learning to stop. But stopping and resting are not always the same thing. Sometimes we stop what we are doing only to discover how much we are still carrying.
Perhaps that is one reason these familiar words from Psalm 46 are so important: “Be still, and know that I am God.” – Psalm 46:10
Psalm 46 is not describing peaceful circumstances. The earth gives way. Mountains are moved. Waters roar. Nations rage. Kingdoms totter. And right in the middle of all that turmoil, God says, “Be still, and know that I am God.”
In other words, this isn’t simply an invitation to find a quiet place. It is a call to stop striving and remember who is actually in control.
Notice that God doesn’t simply say, “Be still.” He says, “Be still, and know.” Biblical stillness is not merely inactivity. It gives us an opportunity to remember what our anxious activity so easily forgets.
He is God. I am not.
He is sovereign. I am not.
He knows what tomorrow holds. I do not.
He is able to carry what I cannot.
He is at work in places I cannot see, and in circumstances I cannot control.
Sometimes the hardest part of resting isn’t stopping what our hands are doing. It is releasing what our hearts are carrying.
We rehearse conversations that have already happened.
We anticipate problems that haven’t happened.
We imagine outcomes.
We try to solve tomorrow’s difficulties today.
And somewhere along the way, we can begin carrying responsibilities God never actually gave us. That can feel like responsibility. It can even feel productive. But there are things we simply cannot control, no matter how many times we turn them over in our minds.
Jesus asked a wonderfully simple question: “And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?” – Matthew 6.27
Worry accomplishes remarkably little for all the energy it consumes. Perhaps that is why genuine rest requires more than an empty calendar. It requires trust.
There are burdens we need to put down. There are questions we need to leave unanswered. There are circumstances we need to entrust to God. There are conversations we cannot control. There are outcomes we cannot guarantee. And there are tomorrows we need to leave where God put them – in tomorrow.
None of this means that we stop caring, planning, praying, or acting responsibly. It means that after we have done what God has given us to do, we trust Him with what He has not given us to control.
That may be one of the hardest forms of rest. But it may also be one of the sweetest. “Be still, and know that I am God.”
Sometimes we need to stop long enough to remember who God is.
And sometimes remembering who God is is what finally allows our hearts to rest.
Overwhelmed is a good word.
Incredible.
Pastor Clegguart Mitchell 