The Rest We’re Called To

It seems like there’s always something unresolved to attend to, something new to address, a situation that keeps the mind racing. Life is incredibly fast paced, and it can feel like there’s always a raging fire to put out somewhere.

And yet, we’re called to rest.

It’s one of the clearest invitations in scripture. Not a physical stillness, but a rest that quiets the heart and steadies the soul.

We often think of rest as simply stopping — a lack of movement, noise, or responsibility. While that can be part of it, true rest isn’t found in the absence of activity but in the presence of trust. It’s a posture of the heart, one that says, “I may not have all the answers, but I trust the One who does.”




This kind of surrender can feel unnatural, especially when your mind is flooded with questions, fears, and uncertainties. When thoughts keep circling and nothing feels resolved, rest can seem impossible. Fortunately, true rest doesn’t require everything to quiet down. Just as Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego stood unshaken before the furnace, and Paul and Silas praised while in prison, rest is most noticeable in the midst of noise.

I like to think of the noise as a reminder. A reminder that we’re not in control, and we were never meant to be. It highlights the limits of our own understanding, inviting us to lean on God before whom all things bow.

This is where true rest begins, in knowing that it’s a response rather than a reward — a response to God’s sovereignty, and to the promises He’s already made concerning us. Promises like “I know the plans I have for you” (Jeremiah 29:11) and “... we know that for those who love God all things work together for good...” (Romans 8:28).

When we hold onto these truths, unrest becomes irrational. If God is who He says He is, what reason do we have to be unsettled?



Despite this, God isn’t caught off guard by our restlessness. He sees the worries and questions that fill our minds, and He understands how heavy the weight of uncertainty can feel. Rather than responding with frustration or impatience, His response is an invitation to come deeper into His presence with honesty, to know Him more fully, and to lay our burdens before Him.

The more we know Him — His character, His faithfulness, His love — the easier it becomes to trust Him even when life feels chaotic. It’s there, in that place of trust, that rest takes root.

May we grow in knowing Him, and in that knowing, find the rest our souls need.

With love,

Feyisola