Photos by Naomi Brehm
Why does ‘well restedness’ always seem to await us, rarely to arrive? Just past the deadline, when I have time, Sunday or summer to come. We arrive at the anticipated moment and the soap slips out of our hands as soon as we receive the catch.
Have we defined rest incorrectly? Have we invented a notion so far beyond reality that we’ve secured our disappointment? Have we inherited what was once a dream, the longing for which remains in our vocabulary even while we inhabit the longed-for age of leisure? Is there a one-size-fits-all definition, a mutual experience, or a correct expectation of what ‘rest’ is?
Here are four suggestions for why rest feels so elusive.
1. Rest can be defined and felt in multiple ways:
- Mental – dwelling on easy, simple, amusing, beautiful things
- Physical – either being still or being active
- Emotional – peace to troubled waters
- Spiritual – deep contentment and connection to the Lord
I could sit still and have a whirring mind. I could amuse myself and remain disconnected from Jesus. I could experience peace while being physically active. It can be hard to diagnose which form of rest is needed. Rest in one area can require activity or work in another, and difference in choice, temperament or expectation can leave you making mismatched comparison to others.
2. We all rest differently. What we find restful can also change in different seasons and stages of life. One person’s book and tea is another’s party crowd and another’s country hike. We’re influenced by personal priorities, limitations, familiarity, childhood weekends, and tastes. Sometimes we’re simply trying to find a contrast to ‘work’ – in one job, I’d rest with reading and podcasts; at another, I needed outdoor adventures and solo time. There is no one-size-fits-all restful situation.
I can feel I’ve missed out on ‘rest’ when I spend leisure time differently to others or choose something that deviates from what I enjoyed in the past. This is such a foot-shooting move. I walk and pick blackberries – not relishing the tastes and sun and exercise – but dwelling on whether I ‘should’ be reading or conversing or writing or praying in stillness instead. In mapping the contingencies and imagining alternate universes (where I’m sat with a drink, not panting uphill on a trail run) or even making plans to do such things later, I am forfeiting the very opportunity to receive ‘rest.’
3. Rest is a byproduct, not a goal. Like a butterfly who lingers a moment longer than expected, should rest be a surprise rather than a plan? Is that a feature of its enjoyment like its cousins, humour and beauty? If this is true, she can’t be curated or chased. She comes of her own accord when my attention is diverted. How foolish, then, to prevent her shy arrival by searching and doubting her in the very moment she would appear, if only I absorbed myself in my present environment, not my pursuit of an experience.
4. Ultimately, rest will never satisfy apart from Christ (now and eternally). When I think ‘I need rest’, the reality is I need Jesus. Oh, the futility of searching and scheming ways to find that sweet combination of joy/contentment/relief/ease when he has already told us how. ‘Come to me’.
This summer, I have travelled and hiked, cycled and run, seen friends and family, written poetry and painted, slept lots and eaten wonderful food. But the burden of responsibilities, fears, deadlines, self-consciousness, only lift when I bring them to, dwell with, and listen to the Word and Spirit.
Besides, it’s more fun when I choose to spend leisure activities with an awareness of the Lord of the Sabbath (I’m going for a hike with Jesus today!). It’s more life-giving and burden-lifting when I choose to spend leisure time in prayerful service of others (writing letters of encouragement to dear friends. Picking blackberries as a gift for someone else. Doing household chores knowing how much it will improve mum’s day.)
If rest will never satisfy apart from Christ, then it ultimately won’t satisfy until we’re with him for eternity. Hebrews 4:11 paradoxically instructs us to ‘strive’ or ‘make every effort’ to enter rest. But it says ‘that rest’ – in context, the eternal Sabbath-rest of God. And ultimately, that’s a future thing.
Rest is only ever going to feel partial this side of eternity because our knowledge of Christ is partial this side of eternity.
“For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part;
then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.”
– 1 Corinthians 13:12
Flutters of deep contentment signal to an everlasting rest before moving on swiftly to remind us we’re not there yet. What if the elusivity is intentional? What if rest is not meant to be fully satisfying yet? Our longing is a homing device that draws our gaze to an eternal reality.
All rest – be it through walking in the woods, reading a good book, meditating on Scripture, or being on retreat – is a foretaste of the glory to come. This frees us to receive and enjoy such moments for what they are: delightful appetisers before the banquet feast.
Naomi works as an Evangelist with Speak Life, inviting people to discover and rediscover the joy of life with Jesus. She lives in East Sussex, where you’ll mostly find her swimming in the sea or getting lost in a forest.
If Naomi’s article resonates and you’d like to explore the theme of rest further, here are two books from our shop that highlight the God’s heart for rest and how we you can make it a priority in your life.
