We live in a world that glorifies hustle. Productivity has become a measure of worth, and exhaustion often feels like a badge of honor. But the Gospel whispers something different: you are loved, not for what you produce, but for who you are — a beloved child of God.

Sabbath rest has always been countercultural. In the Old Testament, God’s people were told to pause their work, even when the world around them kept pushing forward. That rhythm of stopping was more than a day off. It was a declaration: our lives are not defined by endless labor, but by the God who provides.

When Jesus says, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28), He isn’t offering a quick nap before we return to the grind. He is inviting us into a whole new way of living — one where peace is not earned, but gifted.

Choosing to rest — to put down the to-do list, to silence the phone, to simply be — is a quiet act of resistance against a culture that tells us we’re only as valuable as our output. Rest is not laziness; it’s an act of trust. Trust that God is still at work, even when we stop.

This week, I wonder what it might look like for you to resist the pressure of busyness. Maybe it’s leaving one chore undone. Maybe it’s sitting outside without an agenda. Maybe it’s practicing Sabbath in small, imperfect steps.

Whatever it looks like, may your rest be holy. May it remind you that your worth is secure in Christ, not in how much you accomplish.

Rest is resistance. Rest is worship. Rest is freedom.