I’m a recovering perfectionist/people-pleaser/over-achiever, and a professional minister, so yeah – I have a problem with resting and being still.

Every time I sit still to pray, read my Bible, or just be silent in God’s presence my body basically starts convulsing. I start to think of all the other things I should be doing. More productive, fun, pressing, interesting things. And oooh the distractions. One minute I’m praying and a string of 10 thoughts later I’ve decided to buy a new coffee table on Craigslist. In fact, by that point, I might be on the phone with the person from Craigslist.

How is that even possible?

I know many would argue that it’s the times we live in. We want things newer, sooner, louder, more entertaining. We have Netflix on demand and YouTube videos at our fingertips. So, sitting still and listening to an invisible God is just…well…boring. Or at the very least unproductive.

Right?

But, here’s the fascinating twist. Almost every single time I spend time with the Lord, either in scripture or just bringing my worries and desires to him, I feel more whole. I feel foundationally more secure.  I feel lighter and energized. I feel purposeful. I feel free. I feel like He is with me and that means I can take on the world today.

Now imagine with me for a second…

Imagine that you discovered this person. A friend. The best friend you’ve ever had. And after spending time with this friend you almost always felt more whole, secure, lighter, energized, purposeful, and free. The friend would lift your burdens, give you direction, and deeply care about the smallest details of your life. They also know everything about you – they know you better than you know yourself – and could say the exact words you need to hear.

I can tell you one thing for sure: I would be straight up stalking that person. They would have to block my number and de-friend me on Facebook because I would be constantly begging for time with them.

My point is this: even though I know Jesus IS that friend, I still struggle to carve out time with him. And that makes me think that it’s not just bad habits I’m fighting, but I’m fighting something ingrained in me. It’s in my nature. In the very deepest darkest corners of my rebellious self. And when I try to surrender my time to him, it’s like trying to reprogram my default setting.

Paul said it this way:

For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. – Romans 7:15-20

And God knows this about us. He is not surprised by our inability to carry out what is best for us. He does not give up on us. He knows we need rest and so he commands it.

Hebrews 4:9-11 says this:

There remains, then, a Sabbath-rest for the people of God; for anyone who enters God’s rest also rests from his own work, just as God did from his. Let us, therefore, make every effort to enter that rest, so that no one will fall by following their example of disobedience.

The writer of Hebrews brings up two kinds of rest here.

There is rest from work; which often looks like me driving my jeep on a sunny day or snuggling up with Micah in sweatpants for a Friday Night Lights marathon.

Then there is God’s rest. Which I believe is the gospel in its entirety. It’s sitting down for a moment of quiet, asking him to speak to you, and then hearing him say, “No more striving today, sweetheart. You are secure in me. You are sinful and broken, but I gave my life so that you might live.” That feels like true rest. Rest for the soul.

And I need it on Sundays, and I need it every other day of the week too.