His Beloved,
Hey Brothers and Sisters!
I know I’m starting late.
I mean Monday evening—less than 12 hours before this hits your inbox.
I’ve been sitting with the whisper of God, secretly wishing He’d speak a little faster.
But I got the point.
I know I’m not on my preplanned schedule.
But I’m on His.
We live in a world obsessed with the early risers, the perfectly planned, the constantly producing. But the Spirit doesn’t operate on deadlines and algorithms. Sometimes, the most sacred journeys begin when everything else is quiet—when the world is already in motion, but you’re just now catching your breath.
If you’re arriving here weary, a little behind, or craving space to breathe—you are right on time.
We’ve walked through fire together these past few months. Faith tested. Hearts stretched. Hope clung to. And now? Now, we rest.
Because even the strongest among us need permission to be still.
Scripture in Focus
Matthew 11:28–30 (NIV)
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.
For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
This passage isn’t just comfort—it’s a permission slip to rest.
It’s how Jesus ends chapter 11, after a conversation with His disciples, extending an invitation not just to follow Him—but to find rest in Him.
And look what comes immediately after: Matthew chapter 12, where Jesus begins teaching about the Sabbath. That wasn’t a coincidence.
Jesus was preparing them—and us—not just for physical rest, but for a deeper rhythm of grace. One that doesn’t wait for burnout to be sacred. One that doesn’t measure value by output. One that rests first, works with Him, and moves in peace.
The Invitation to Slow Down
Rest isn’t the absence of movement—it’s the presence of intention. It’s choosing to believe that God’s work does not depend on your exhaustion. That productivity is not your spiritual worth. That it is holy to say, “I need a moment.”
In the slowness of summer, we reclaim what hustle tried to steal: peace.
Stillness. Space to just be.
Every minute of every day doesn’t need to be filled with a pre-planned activity or a 15-step gourmet dinner.
Sometimes, rest is peanut butter sandwiches and paper plates.
Sometimes, it’s a nap with no alarm, a walk without a step goal, or turning off notifications without apology.
It’s letting the laundry wait so your soul can breathe.
It’s choosing presence over performance.
This is the kind of rest God delights in—when we trust Him enough to pause.
Psalm 23:2–3 (NIV)
“He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters, He refreshes my soul.”
Rest isn’t passive—it’s God-led. And when we allow Him to lead, we find that rest is not an interruption but an invitation to restoration.
When Rest Reveals Realignment
I watched a video on Instagram that stopped me in my tracks. Pastor Norris Johnson said,
“There are many of us who think our gift is the problem. It’s not your gift. It’s the audience.”
That sat in my spirit like a stone in still water.
Some of us are exhausted not because we’re lacking in calling or clarity—but because we’ve been sowing into the wrong soil.
Your gift may be buried in the wrong ministry.
Suffocated by insecure leadership.
Overused by an audience God never assigned to you.
And when that happens, you begin to question not just where you are—but who you are.
You start to believe your offering isn’t enough, when in reality, it’s simply being poured into a place that doesn’t have the vessels for it.
But rest has a way of quieting the noise—and clarifying the call.
This is where rest becomes realignment.
In slowing down, we hear God more clearly. In releasing what isn’t ours to carry, we free our hands for what’s been divinely prepared.
In a world demanding constant movement, your stillness can become the compass pointing you toward the people who are waiting for the exact sound of your voice.
So don’t resist the rest.
Don’t despise the pause.
You’re not being set aside.
You’re being set apart.
Proverbs 18:16 (NKJV)
“A man’s gift makes room for him, and brings him before great men.”
Let that settle: your gift will make room. You don’t have to force what grace will open. You just need to follow the rhythm of rest—and let God lead.
Working for His Purpose
There’s a verse that has always preached to me—especially when life feels off course or uncertain:
Romans 8:28 (NIV)
“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”
We quote it often, but when you really sit with it, it changes everything:
God doesn’t need our perfection to produce goodness.
He doesn’t need us to be “on time” to align us with divine timing.
He just asks for love—and obedience.
And here’s the grace of it all:
God can realign in rest because rest is not disobedience.
Stillness in Him is still sacred movement.
When we pause, He continues. When we let go, He gathers.
Our job is not to make all things work together.
Our job is to love Him and follow Him.
He takes care of the rest.
Let the Rest Be Enough
There will be a time to gather.
A time to pour out, to build, to light the flame for someone else.
But right now?
Let the rest be enough.
Let the silence speak.
Let the pasta be simple.
Let the journal stay open and the to-do list stay closed.
You don’t have to lead the circle, plan the prayer, or show up strong.
Sometimes, the most faithful thing you can do is heal.
And healing begins with rest.
Healing in the Kitchen
Basil Bliss Pasta Salad
Bright. Flavorful. Restorative.
This is summer simplicity in a bowl—fresh, flavorful, and deeply satisfying. Whether served for brunch, a light dinner, or packed up for a restful picnic, this pasta salad brings joy without the fuss.
It’s healing in edible form—layered, easy, and kissed with bliss.
There’s a grace that comes with slowing down—a holy hush that reminds us we’re not behind, we’re just being held.
If this summer feels different, it’s because it is.
Maybe God isn’t calling you to do more, but to receive more.
Not to push harder, but to pause longer.
To remember that realignment doesn’t always come through effort—it often comes through rest.
You don’t have to gather flames while you’re still burning out.
Let this be your season of stillness.
A season where obedience looks like softness, and faith looks like breathing.
Because even in rest, God is working.
And your purpose is still intact.
A Prayer of Reflection
Lord,
Thank You for the invitation to rest—
not as a reward, but as a rhythm.
Quiet my striving, settle my spirit,
and help me trust that You are near even when I pause.
Let this season be one of softness, slowness, and sacred stillness.
In every unhurried moment, may I find You again.
Amen.