When Your Rest Feels Impossible
Why you can’t stop, won’t stop, and don’t know how to stop.
Once upon a time, there was a woman I used to know very well.
She ran on six hours of sleep (barely) and called it discipline. She worked a full-time job with overtime shifts sprinkled in on the days she wasn’t sitting in a college classroom three nights a week, two hours a session, trying to build a future while barely surviving the present.
She sang in the choir every other Sunday or more, sometimes all three services. She led women’s Bible study every Wednesday night. She volunteered at church like her salvation depended on it. She ran an Avon business on the side while partnering with the local women’s gyms, because apparently one hustle was never enough.
And on the weekends? She found time to party two nights or spend time with friends, because if she stopped moving, she might have to feel something. And feeling something was not on the schedule.
She struggled through relationships that kept stalling, two of which absorbed every ounce of her emotional bandwidth. She felt abandoned by them. She went looking for love to replace the hurt, only to land in another narcissistic relationship that took more than it gave. She was laid off six times during the first twenty years of her adulthood. Six times. Each one a fresh wound on top of an old one.
And she never once said ‘no’ without feeling guilty about it for days.
She meal-prepped on Sundays when she had enough strength or money to pull together something for the week. She tried to keep up with the bills and rent so she wouldn’t be evicted. (There’s a story behind where she was living and the favor she was given for being honest about her financial situation. That’s another story for another day.)
She listened to Dr. Charles Stanley every morning at 7:30am because she was moving too fast to take time, other than women’s Bible study, to really dive into the Word. It was the one thread of connection she could grab while running full speed. And still she was tired. But she kept pushing forward.
She cried alone on her living room sofa. No audience. No comfort. No one to hand her a tissue or say, “You don’t have to carry this.”
She was single. She was alone. Too embarrassed to let anyone know the truth about how she was really feeling. Too afraid to ask for help, because she was the one who was strong for everyone else.
She was the shoulder. The prayer warrior. The fixer. The one who showed up.
And it was just too much for someone who lived alone, feeling isolated emotionally and physically, still trying to push through because that was all she knew how to do.
That woman was me.
And I couldn’t stop. Not because I didn’t want to. Because I didn’t know how.
Rest wasn’t just hard for me. It felt impossible. Like asking my lungs to stop breathing or my mind to stop racing. The engine didn’t have an off switch. It only had faster.
“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed — or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”
— Luke 10:41–42
When Your Feelings Tell You Otherwise...
If you’re that woman who can’t stop, the noise in your head probably sounds like this:
▫️“If I stop, who’s going to do it?”
▫️“Resting makes me feel lazy, not refreshed.”
▫️“I’ve tried to slow down. It just makes me anxious.”
▫️“I don’t even know what rest looks like for me.”
▫️“Stillness feels more exhausting than busyness.”
I’ve lived inside every single one of those thoughts. And here’s what I’ve learned: the inability to rest is not a productivity problem. It’s a trust problem.
When we can’t stop, it’s usually because we believe, deep down, that the world needs us to keep it spinning. That everything depends on us. That if we slow down, something, someone, everything will fall apart.
And that belief? It’s exhausting. Because it puts us in God’s seat. And we were never built for that chair.
The Deeper Truth
Martha was busy. She was serving. She was doing good, important work. And Jesus didn’t shame her for working. He pointed out what she was missing.
“You are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed or indeed only one.”
Few things are needed.
Not all the things.
Not every committee.
Not every responsibility.
Not every expectation you’ve piled on yourself or that others have piled on you.
Few things. Maybe only one.
Mary chose to sit at Jesus’ feet. Not because she was lazy. Because she understood that presence is more valuable than performance.
Here’s what years of being Martha taught me: busyness was my hiding place. In the constant doing, I didn’t have to sit with my thoughts. I didn’t have to face my fears. I didn’t have to ask hard questions about what was really driving my need to be needed. I didn’t have to provide an answer to those who thought I was too busy to ask.
Stillness was scary because it was honest. And honest was uncomfortable.
But here’s what Mary knew: the presence of Jesus is worth more than all the serving in the world. And sometimes the most productive thing you can do is absolutely nothing except sit at His feet and breathe.
I know, because I spent years doing everything but that. I was singing in the choir, leading Bible study, running a business, maintaining relationships that were draining me dry, and listening to Dr. Stanley on the car radio because it was the only stillness I could manage while driving 65 miles an hour, while my mind was constantly working at 100+ miles an hour. I was doing things FOR God while running FROM the stillness He was calling me to.
And the whole time, He was whispering what He whispered to Martha:
“Only one thing is needed.”
What This Means for You
If rest feels impossible for you, I want you to know: you’re not broken. You’ve just been running so long that your nervous system has forgotten how to be still.
Here are some things that helped me learn to rest when rest felt impossible:
I started small. Five minutes of sitting with no phone, no agenda, no noise. Just breathing. It was excruciating at first. Then it became the best five minutes of my day.
I named my anxiety. When stillness made me anxious, I asked, “What am I afraid will happen if I stop?” Writing the answer down took the power out of it.
I gave myself permission to be bad at resting. Just like any new skill, it takes practice. I didn’t beat myself up for the racing thoughts. I just kept showing up to the stillness.
I remembered that rest is obedience. When my guilt said “You should be doing something,” I reminded myself: “I AM doing something. I’m obeying God’s command to rest.”
“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”
— 2 Corinthians 12:9
His grace is sufficient. Not your energy. Not your willpower. Not your ability to push through one more day on four hours of sleep and a prayer. His grace. And that grace shows up strongest in the very place where your strength runs out.
Remember This Truth
If you can’t stop, it’s not because you’re too strong. It might be because you’re too afraid. Trust me when I say that. Remember when I said my mind activity was at 100+ miles an hour?
Maybe you’re afraid of what you’ll feel. Afraid of what you’ll face. Afraid of what will happen if you’re not the one holding it all together.
But God is holding it together for you. He always has been. And He’s inviting you to sit down, breathe, and let Him.
Rest is not the absence of doing. It’s the presence of trust. And learning to trust is the bravest, hardest, most worthwhile work you’ll ever do.
An Invitation🌿
This week, I want to invite you to try the five-minute sit.
🔸Set a timer.
🔸Put your phone face down or close your laptop.
🔸Close your eyes. And just breathe. Inhale for 4. Hold for 4. Exhale for 4. Repeat as necessary.
🔸Ask the Lord for forgiveness. Repent.
🔸Move forward and breathe. Inhale for 4. Hold for 4. Exhale for 4.
🔸Thank you Lord for being there for you.
No prayer list. No worship music. No agenda. Release it. Just you and God and five minutes of doing absolutely nothing.
If anxiety shows up, let it. Name it. Then let it pass.
You’ve got this! I have faith in you.🌿
📣What happens when you try to be still? Is it peaceful or panic-inducing? Reply or comment below. No judgment, just honesty. I’d love to hear your honest answer.
-Blessings and joy, Tina💖
From my heart to yours, thank you for reading.💖 This newsletter is always free. As a subscriber, you’ll receive a new post every Thursday. I’d love to have you join the Joy God’s Way® community so we can keep moving from exhaustion into joy together, God’s way! 🌿
Merci pour ce beau texte, qui m'a fait grandement réfléchir et me sentir un peu plus légère 🕊