In a world that never stops spinning, stillness is a rebellion. We’ve been taught to hustle, produce, and strive—but your soul was not built for burnout. Sacred stillness is not empty; it’s where clarity, healing, and divine whispers reside.
True rest isn’t laziness—it’s restoration. It’s the sacred pause that allows your spirit to catch up with your body. When was the last time you allowed yourself to just be without guilt?
To reclaim rest as a radical act is to push back against a culture that glorifies busyness and measures our worth by productivity. It’s to say: My value is not in my output. My spirit deserves pause. Rest becomes a form of resistance, a remembering, and a return to wholeness.
Nature reminds us of this truth: the earth rests in winter, the moon wanes in darkness, even our breath requires exhaling before inhaling. Stillness is not indulgence—it’s alignment. As Tricia Hersey of The Nap Ministry writes:
“Rest is resistance. Rest is a form of reparations. Rest is a portal to healing.”
A Story from the Quiet Hours
Not long ago, I had a sleepless night where rest simply refused to come. My mind spun with lists of undone tasks, worries, and deadlines. I tried everything—rolling over, adjusting pillows, even counting my breaths—but sleep continued to elude me.
Finally, I stopped resisting. Instead of battling the insomnia, I chose to lean into it. I let myself rest in the stillness, breathing deeply, shifting my attention inward. As I softened into that pause, the thoughts slowly untangled. The very thing I was fighting—wakefulness—became a teacher.
In that quiet, I felt something shift. My body calmed. My spirit found space. Gratitude bubbled up, even though I was exhausted. It was as though the night itself whispered: “Stillness is enough.”
Eventually, I drifted into sleep. And though I woke with fewer hours of rest than I’d hoped, I carried a renewed sense of clarity and energy into the day. The stillness had sparked something—igniting focus, peace, and a subtle joy.
Maybe you’ve had a night like that too—where rest didn’t come, but stillness itself became the gift. A reminder that sometimes the soul is restored not through sleep alone, but through surrender.
This week, reclaim rest not as a reward, but as a radical act of wholeness. Turn off the noise. Leave room in your schedule. Let rest be sacred again.
In light,
Sue
