Stop Running, Start Resting
Psalms 46:10 — “Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!”
Ann was elbow-deep in tomatoes at the grocery store when a voice from the past stepped into aisle four.
It was Mrs. Martin, her second-grade music teacher. She had the same no-nonsense expression and same silver hair pulled tight. The only difference were the wrinkles and the orthopedic slippers replacing her old patent pumps.
Just like that, the memories returned. Music class. The rhythm drills. The clapping.
Ann never could get it right. Her classmates moved together in sync, but she always lagged a step behind. Mrs. Martin would pace the front of the room, heels tapping the tile, calling out.
“Beat, beat—rest,” she said. “You have to feel the rest! You cannot feel the rhythm if you do not know when to stop.”
Ann tried, but her timing always felt off. After a while, she stopped trying altogether.
Now in her fifties, she stood in that grocery aisle watching her former teacher, and a quiet thought rose.
I think I finally understand what she meant.
She had not clapped in years, but the pressure to stay in rhythm never left. Life just swapped playgrounds for deadlines. Instead of rhythm drills, it was school pickups, doctor’s appointments, late-night emails, and holidays to plan. Ann kept the pace. She showed up, but underneath it all, she felt like she was always a little behind—missing something she could not name.
Maybe that something had been rest.
Not a nap. Not a vacation. But the kind of stillness that leaves space for breathing, listening, and being.
Lately, she had begun making time for it—ten quiet minutes in the morning, a walk without her phone, a chair by the window in the late afternoon sun. At first, it felt useless, but over time, those moments became something sacred. She felt a different kind of peace began to rise, not from finishing the to-do list, but from laying it down.
And now she could hear it clearly: the rhythm that had always been missing. The rests were not interruptions. They were the invitation.
Ann glanced at Mrs. Martin once more and smiled. Some lessons just take longer to land.
So, friend, if your heart feels out of rhythm, just know that you were you were not created to run without stopping. You were made for a rhythm that includes real rest, and that is not selfish. It is where your soul remembers who God is.
What if you made space for it today? Not someday. Not after everything is done. Just one breath. One quiet prayer and moment of stillness. You might be surprised at the peace you finally feel.
