When You’re Too Busy to Stop (and Too Tired to Keep Going)
“Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while.”—Mark 6:31 (ESV)
I was spinning plates—two young kids, homeschooling, campus ministry, and a small business. So when my husband gently suggested a three-day leadership retreat focused on rest, I didn’t feel grateful—I felt angry. In irritation, I shot back: Who’s going to teach the kids? Cover the ministry? Prep the meals? Though you may not respond as I did, I viewed his thoughtful invitation as one more thing on my already-overflowing plate.
But God is so kind. What began as frustration actually became a turning point in my walk with Him. As I replayed my response, something inside me stirred. The words didn’t just sound stressed—they sounded wrong. That moment revealed what I hadn’t wanted to admit: I wasn’t just busy—I was living as if everything depended on me. I had taken on a role that wasn’t mine to carry. I was trying to be God.
When Busyness Feels Holy
Looking back, I see now that my irritated response wasn’t random—it was the fruit of a long season of work without rest. I missed the subtle signs: struggling to fall asleep, seeing people as projects, being at dinner but not really present. Sundays meant church, but I’d return to work by the afternoon. Others praised my productivity, but inside I felt hollow, irritable, stretched thin. Productive service can be a joy when anchored in abiding; mine had drifted from that source. I ping-ponged between pushing harder and escaping into movies, wondering why ministry felt so joyless.
Your experience might look different—chronic fatigue, tearfulness, simmering resentment, or growing numbness to the people you once loved to serve. These signs of tiredness may also signal soul neglect.
What makes it so dangerous is that it often masquerades as faithfulness. We call it diligence or stewardship. But beneath it all may be fear, pride, or misplaced identity. For me, that initial irritated response was the first clue that I needed rest—not just physically, but for my soul.
Rest Isn’t Selfish. It’s Surrender.
Resting before the work is done is an act of trust. When I finally agreed to go on that retreat, it meant prepping meals, planning lessons, and leaving ministry tasks unfinished. That was hard—I hate loose ends. But if I waited until everything was done, I’d never rest. Rest is surrender, not something we earn.
Emotionally, it meant letting go of control. Spiritually, it meant believing that God reigns, even when I step away. Hebrews 4:11 calls us to “strive to enter [God’s] rest”—not by finishing the to-do list but by believing His Word.
And what does God say? That our worth isn’t in our output (Eph. 2:8–10), that He gives rest to His beloved (Ps. 127:2), and that unless the Lord builds the house, we labor in vain. Rest is obedience, not indulgence. It dethrones self-reliance and declares, “God rules—not me.”
“Rest is obedience, not indulgence. It dethrones self-reliance and declares, ‘God rules—not me.’”
Rest Revealed My Real Theology
I admit: I arrived at the retreat center with a bit of trepidation. At this leadership retreat—unlike others I’d attended—we started with a time of extended solitude with God. Since my devotional life had become perfunctory, I was a little scared of what might emerge. Not surprisingly, as I settled down for that time, I dozed off almost immediately as exhaustion took over. But when I woke, I was ready to listen.
Rather than condemnation, I was reminded of the truth. I lived like everything depended on me but it’s actually the opposite: in Him all things hold together (Col. 1:17). In the quiet, free from the cover of busyness, He gently exposed my pride and self-reliance.
More important than physical rest was the spiritual rest I received by reorienting myself under His rule. The irritability and numbness I’d ignored were actually warning signs of soul neglect.
During this time, I learned pausing wasn’t indulgence—it was realignment. Rest moved from luxury to necessity, because it dethrones self and recenters life on Christ, the true Sustainer. Whether it’s a weekend retreat or ten quiet minutes with Scripture at home, rest remains essential.
From Running on Fumes to Bearing Fruit
After that extended time with the Lord, something shifted—not in my schedule, but in my soul. Rather than charging ahead and asking God to catch up, I began seeking Him first—shaping ministry as a response to His guidance.
During the rest of the retreat, as we entered training sessions and ministry conversations, I noticed that my heart was more tender, teachable, and tuned in. That initial time of stillness had cleared space for the Spirit to work. I began to see ministry differently—not just as tasks to complete, but as lives to shepherd.
This is the fruit of abiding. This experience impacted me so much that I wanted to find ways to practice it at home too. Whether rest looks like a retreat, a daily walk, or quiet time with the Lord before your kids wake up, the form may vary. The goal is the same: reorienting our hearts to Christ.
Ironically, resting in Him, not working harder, sharpened my discernment. Spending time with Him reminded me that not everything is equally important. Rest reoriented my wandering heart, reminded me who is Lord, and returned me to abiding in Christ, where true fruitfulness flows.
“Whether it’s a weekend retreat or ten quiet minutes with Scripture at home, rest remains essential.”
From Fumes to Fullness: A Reflection Guide
My story might not be yours. Your exhaustion may not come from ministry, and your refreshment may not come from a retreat.
But I hope it raises questions that guide you toward the One who gives rest. Whether you feel burned out or not, I hope you’ll consider these five invitations. These aren’t boxes to tick, but gentle signposts guiding you back to Christ. How are you doing?
1. Recognize the Warning Signs
Are you more anxious, irritable, or numb than you’d like to admit? What do your current rhythms reveal about the state of your soul?
2. Rest as Surrender, Not Escape
What would it look like to rest before everything is done? Where might God be inviting you to let go of control?
3. Examine What You Really Believe
What do your habits of work and rest reveal about your theology? In what ways might self-reliance be masquerading as faithfulness?
4. Return to Abiding
Have you been trying to produce fruit apart from the Vine? What needs to be pruned in your life to make space for connection with Christ?
5. Reframe Rest as Realignment
How might God be using this season to recentralize your heart on Him? What might you do in five unhurried minutes to breathe, pray, and remember God’s rule?
One Invitation, Many Starting Points
Years ago my husband’s simple question exposed my striving and opened a door to soul rest. Today, I want to extend that invitation to you. For me, that step came through a retreat—but soul rest doesn’t require travel or time away.
Sometimes it starts right at the kitchen sink, as we pause to pray in the midst of a busy day. Maybe it’s taking time to commit yourself to the Lord before you preach or thanking God for seeds planted when the last child leaves your classroom or checking your heart while performing a sound check. Pray a blessing over the people who will drink the coffee you brew. Ask for guidance as you coordinate the church calendar. Seek God’s change in your own heart while you prepare for your Bible study.
Whether you’re gasping for air, serving with vigor, or sensing a nudge to slow down, OakHaven Ministries can help you make room to reorient with God. Check out the mini-retreats on this blog to start. These are designed to help you reset—even from your desk or living room.
If you’re looking for more, consider our other retreat services. These provide unhurried space for you or your team in Scripture, prayer, and reflection to refresh your heart and realign your purposes to His.
Ready to Reorient?
Rest is not a bonus tacked onto finished work; it’s a step of faith and obedience to Jesus’ call to abide. Even steadfast servants drift without noticing. Don’t wait for the crash to course-correct.
May the Lord, who gives sleep to His beloved, meet you in quietness and trust and strengthen your soul for the work He’s entrusted to you.