When Rest Becomes Renewal: Learning to Lead from Stillness

The reality of my time off is that it was humbling, productive, and energizing.

When the depression of day two hit, I recognized it from other cycles of work and rest. I remembered reading Pete Scazzero on emotionally healthy discipleship. I was frustrated that I had gone so long without rest, relieved to be resting, and humbled by how the Lord works through it all.

It reminded me of something consistent throughout both the Old and New Testaments: rest, peace, and wholeness are essential to being human.

The Shepherd Who Leads Us to Stillness

Psalm 23 1 The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. 2 He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, 3 he refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake. 4 Even though I walk through the darkest valley, a I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. 5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. 6 Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

And from the Gospels:

Mark 1:35 35 Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed...

As much as I want to do everything, these passages bring hope to my soul. My soul is far more honest about my limits than my will is. These passages remind me that there is a blessedness in being, not only in doing.

Pete Scazzero phrases it this way:

We equate “doing for” God with “being with” God. They are not the same.

But how do we live out our being? Here are four ways that we can embrace sabbath and actively trust God:

1. Schedule Down Time

   It seems so simple — even anticlimactic — but scheduling downtime and protecting it is one of the most basic ways we can practice sabbath.

   Forcing ourselves to stop requires that we allow the world to keep turning without us. Protecting this time is essential. The moment we view it as available for “spillover,” we’ve reversed the Creator–creature relationship. A decade of pastoral ministry has taught me there are very few events that truly demand immediate attention. I'm simply not that important.
   

2. Retreat

He leads me beside still waters.

A family friend once spoke of “the noise of the world.” For whatever reason, the way she said it stuck with me. When I go up to Camp Lambec for study leave, I’m reminded what it means to rest beside still waters — or gentle waves.

A retreat isn’t a weekly practice, but I’ve found that taking one or two each year has done more for my soul than I ever imagined possible. I was raised to value doing; retreats raise the value of being.

If you’re unsure how to plan a retreat:

• Talk to your pastor or a spiritual director.

• Ask for a daily schedule and practices to guide the time.

• If you’re really desperate, book a time with me to plan one. (I take mine at Camp Lambec in North Springfield, PA — which offers clergy and ministry professionals a weeklong retreat cabin for just $250.)

3. Digital Rest

   Technology is woven into our lives. I’m typing this on a laptop, watching Thursday Night Football, while a Bluetooth thermometer monitors the meatloaf. Katie’s upstairs watching Gilmore Girls. My email chirps, and my smart outlet turns the driveway lights on and off.

   
   

   There’s no way I’m giving up technology. But like anything else, how we use it matters more than its existence.

   
   

   If I’m not careful, my phone becomes a cruel master rather than an obedient servant. I have to take breaks. (Science backs that up — here’s one study from Stanford: Addictive Potential of Social Media) So when does the phone go away? Pick a time. - After 8pm - Saturday mornings - Sundays entirely Whatever feels least inconvenient is probably the right place to start.

   
   

   Caveat: You have to be awake while staying off your devices. Sleep doesn’t count. Sorry.
   

4. Hobbies

   This one took me a while. I can get hyper-focused on work.

   
   

   Work only “works” certain parts of my brain. When I’m woodworking, something different happens — my brain downshifts. Perhaps the better analogy is that it stops redlining (if you’ve ever driven stick, you know what I mean).

   
   

   I don’t think God made us to do just one thing. Adam and Eve were given a garden — endless opportunity to explore, tend, and create.

   
   

   When I insist on working a problem incessantly, I’m taking control in a way I was never designed to. But when I create — when I build, carve, or sand — I rediscover the joy of the Creator. My praise deepens, because I see more of Him.

Working from Rest

Mike Breen writes that we should “work from our rest rather than rest from our work.”

When I return from retreat, I catch glimpses of what that looks like — and it’s delightful.

What my church needs is a pastor who knows how to trust and delight in the Lord before anything else.

My family needs the same.

My soul? Ditto.

These are just starting points. Dismiss them if you must, but don’t ignore rest.

And if something’s helped you — I’d love to hear what’s worked for you.

James

james@lifeandgrace.org