Someone recently asked me, “How do you rest?”

My oxymoron reply, “I have to intentionally work to find rest.” Except for the times when life throws me in bed with an illness, I have to plan for rest.
My strong work ethic was forged on the family farm where every day’s chores began at sunrise and did not end until sunset. The frenetic pace of milking cows, putting up hay, and bringing in the harvest continued throughout each particular season. Weeding around the cedar trees, helping to pick cherries, apricots, and sandplums — then canning them so the jellies lasted for years. Laundry which included hanging clothes on the line and ironing. Helping my siblings and Dad chase down an errant calf or corral the next beef to be butchered.
Although I still have calluses and sun-ripened freckles to prove how many hours we toiled, I would not give anything for those years. The joy of being outside and the lessons I learned about hard work were priceless. Growing up on a farm taught the rigors of life and death, the changing of seasons, and the value of family working together. Rest was reserved for the Sabbath when all the work stopped as we focused on church services, extended family visits, and serving others.
Rest in 2026 is something I know is important but is much more difficult to obtain. Yet I know it is healthy to still observe a Sabbath and also to find periods of rest within each day. I am determined to learn more about how to proactively invite rest into my life.
On Sundays, I take a break from the digital, refusing to click online to check emails or tweet a response. Sundays are usually the days I lie down for a holy nap—another leftover routine from my childhood. An unconscious stopping of work to intentionally rest. Sundays are also the time for family meals, for connecting with each other and trying to process what happened during the week.
But how can we embrace rest during the busyness of our days? Doesn’t the proactive invite for rest also include an invitation for peace?
A break in the routine underscores rest which is part of the reason for Julia Cameron’s suggestion to take an artist date once / week. A date without the goal of productivity but simply the enjoyment of art, to browse through a bookstore, or re-discover the magical smell of crayons. To leave the current work setting and do something different — something that fills the creative tank.
A break from the carefully designed life. Perhaps a day reserved for a chocolate treat, a ceasing of counting calories for the enjoyment of flavors and textures. A day to discover the variety of art galleries in the area or the enjoyment of meeting a friend for coffee/tea. Without expectations. Without timelines.
But one of the least used yet most beneficial ways to rest is to merely sit and do nothing. To enjoy the fading light of a colorful sunset, to listen to a classical aria, meditate on a Psalm, or pet a cat, revel in the warmth of a contented purr. To unplug from all devices and all types of noise. To appreciate the silence of solitude.
The tagline of Choosing Rest by Sally Breedlove reads “Cultivating a Sunday heart in a Monday world.” Breedlove writes, “Finding rest requires quiet undeviating focus where we give ourselves time for holy spaces of contemplation.”
As I search for more opportunities to find rest, I long to reboot my creative and spiritual self. Perhaps a drive into the country to remember the variety of nature’s greens. To absorb the early bulbs that peek from the soil. To escape from the daily grind and the reminder that the news cycle is always available.
Rest can birth an opportunity for finding more of ourselves without the definition of productive effectiveness. Within moments of rest, we can discover our true selves as God created us to be — trusting, content, and whole. Enveloped within God’s peace.
©2026 RJ Thesman – All Rights Reserved
Image Attribution: EME / Pixabay
Find out more about the farm life in Ruthie’s story, Seeking the Land of Grace.
Nice job Rebecca – so beautifully written.
Thanks for the comment, Evie.
A phrase came to me this morning: I do nothing well. See the double meaning? I’ve “played” with the phrase all day.
Love it! Thanks for sharing!