How to Find Rest

Matthew 11:28 – “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

There was a season in my life when I was wearing every hat in ministry—preaching multiple times a week, planning programs, meeting with families, answering emails late into the night, and counseling people in crisis. From the outside, it looked like faithfulness. But inside, I was quietly unraveling.

I remember one evening, pulling into my driveway, gripping the steering wheel, and just sitting there. I couldn’t move. I was supposed to go inside, smile at my wife and kids, be the strong and steady one. But I had nothing left to give. My body was present, but my soul was exhausted.

In the stillness of that moment, I sensed God whisper, “You’re not a machine. You’re my son.”

That gentle truth cut through the noise I’d been living under—the lie that said I had to keep producing, showing up, holding everything together to be worthy. That night became a sacred turning point.

I started observing a real Sabbath—not just a day off to catch up on errands, but a day of true rest. I turned off notifications. I went on walks without an agenda. I played games with my kids. I stopped performing and started breathing again.

Jesus’ words in Matthew 11 aren’t just poetic—they’re personal. He doesn’t say, “Come to me when you’ve finished your list,” or “Come to me if you’re spiritual enough.” He says, “Come to me… all you who are weary.” All of you who are burned out, anxious, overloaded, or numb—come. I’ll give you rest.

Not just sleep, but soul-deep restoration.

You don’t have to earn it. You just need to come.

Ask Yourself:

1. What lies am I believing that keep me from resting?

2. What rhythms do I need to create to protect my rest?

3. Where might Jesus be inviting me to slow down and simply be?

   
   

Prayer: Lord, thank you for your invitation to rest. Help me stop chasing worth through work. Teach me to breathe again—to pause, to trust, and to receive your love without striving. Remind me that I am your child, not your employee. Amen.