Slowing Down
Heather Cook
Small Moments, Sacred Invitations
Small Moments, Sacred Invitations
Slowing Down
Heather Cook
Making Room: Preparing My Heart for a ...
Making Room: Preparing My Heart for a Spirit-Led Season
Community
Heather Cook
Thankfulness That Isn’t Circumstantial
Thankfulness That Isn’t Circumstantial
Community
Heather Cook
Thankfulness That Brings Abundance
Thankfulness That Brings Abundance
Community
Heather Cook
Thankful Even When Our Hearts Are Broken
Thankful Even When Our Hearts Are Broken

Small Moments, Sacred Invitations

““But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.””
— Luke 2:19

While the world hurried on around her, Mary paused. She noticed. She held the moments close and allowed God’s work to sink deep into her heart.

Advent invites us into that same posture—noticing God’s presence in the small, ordinary moments we’re often tempted to rush past. The Spirit is still speaking… often softly… and always close.

I’ve been paying attention this week—truly paying attention. And what I’m noticing is how often God speaks in the small places. Not the spectacular ones. Not the spotlight moments. But the quiet, ordinary spaces of daily life.

A soft whisper while loading the dishwasher.
A nudge during a drive across town.
A moment of peace while folding laundry.
A surprising tenderness in the middle of a chaotic morning.

It’s as if the Holy Spirit is saying, “I’m here too. You just have to notice.”

We talk about wanting to experience God in December, but sometimes we miss Him because we’re looking everywhere except the moment right in front of us. We expect Him at the candlelight service, but forget He meets us while we’re wrapping gifts or wiping down counters.

This is a season filled with sacred invitations—little moments woven into our days where God is offering His nearness.

What if we didn’t rush past them this year?

For me, slowing down isn’t about doing less for the sake of minimalism. It’s about creating enough space inside to recognize when the Spirit is whispering, “Pause… I’m here.”

A simple practice for this week:

Take 3–5 minutes each day to sit in quiet stillness and ask, “Holy Spirit, what are You doing around me today?”

Sisterhood of Grace Invitation

One of the ways I practice noticing God is by listening to how He’s moving in other women’s lives. In our Sisterhood of Grace community, we share those small, sacred moments—the whispers, the prayers, the questions.

If you’re hungry for a space where slowing down and spiritual formation are encouraged, you’re welcome there. Join us a Sisterhood of Grace Facebook Group here!

Making Room: Preparing My Heart for a Spirit-Led Season

““She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.””
— Luke 2:7

There wasn’t room for Jesus in the inn that night—only space in a humble manger, simple and unexpected. Yet it was there, in the quiet and the unspectacular, that God chose to enter the world.

As December begins, I find myself asking a gentle but necessary question: Am I making room for Jesus in my own life? Or has my pace filled every corner of this season?



December has a way of sweeping us up into more—more plans, more gatherings, more expectations, more to do. And if I’m honest, I’ve spent many years arriving at Christmas morning with a tired heart and a scattered spirit. The season meant to draw me closer to Jesus somehow pulled me in every other direction.

But this year, I feel the Spirit gently inviting me to prepare differently.

Instead of filling the month, I want to make room.
Instead of moving quickly, I want to move quietly.
Instead of letting the world set the pace, I want to let Jesus lead.

When I look at the Christmas story, one line always catches me: “There was no room for them.” No room for Mary, Joseph, or the Savior of the world. And I can’t help but wonder… how often do I unintentionally do the same? How often does my pace leave no room for Jesus to actually meet me?

So I’m choosing a slower posture this December. I want to notice God in the everyday moments—the quiet mornings with coffee, the soft glow of Christmas lights, the laughter of my girls in the next room. I want to feel the Spirit’s nudge in my spirit before I feel the pull of my to-do list.

Maybe you feel the same longing.

If so, let’s prepare our hearts together. Let’s make room for a Spirit-led season… one slow, surrendered moment at a time.

A simple practice for this week:

Ask the Lord, “What is one thing I can release so I have space for You?”
And then actually release it.

Sisterhood of Grace Invitation

If you’re craving a slower, more intentional December—and you want to walk through it with other women who are choosing presence over pressure—I’d love to invite you into our Sisterhood of Grace Facebook community. Join us here!

It’s a space for encouragement, prayer, gentle conversation, and reminders that God meets us in the middle of real life. No striving. No pretending. Just women learning how to live rooted in Christ together.

Thankfulness That Isn’t Circumstantial

“Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”
— 1 Thessalonians 5:18

Life doesn’t always go the way we expect.
Sometimes, the prayers we pray aren’t answered how we hoped.
Sometimes, doors close that we thought would open.
And sometimes, we’re left standing in the in-between—trusting that God’s goodness is still true, even when we can’t see it yet.

It’s in those moments that our gratitude is tested.

It’s one thing to be thankful when life feels good—when prayers are answered, relationships are strong, and things seem to fall into place. But the real transformation happens when we learn to give thanks not because life is perfect, but because God is faithful.

Gratitude That’s Grounded, Not Fragile

Circumstantial thankfulness is fragile—it sways with our emotions and depends on outcomes.
But gratitude that’s rooted in God’s character? That’s unshakable.

When we understand that gratitude isn’t about pretending everything is okay, but about trusting the One who is okay, everything shifts.

In A Pace of Grace, I talk about what it means to live anchored in who God is, rather than what we do or what we have. This is that same kind of anchoring—it’s the kind of gratitude that says,

“Even when I don’t feel it, even when I don’t see it—You are still worthy of my thanks.”

That kind of thankfulness grows deep roots. It’s not surface-level or seasonal; it’s spiritual. It endures storms because it’s planted in the soil of God’s faithfulness.

When Gratitude Feels Out of Reach

There have been times in my life when gratitude didn’t come naturally—when it felt like a discipline rather than a delight.

In those seasons, I learned that sometimes the most powerful prayers are the simplest ones:

“Lord, help me to see You here.”

Because gratitude isn’t about ignoring the pain; it’s about acknowledging God’s presence within it.
It’s saying, “Even in this, I know You are good.”

Paul’s words in 1 Thessalonians 5:18 don’t tell us to give thanks for all circumstances, but in them. There’s a big difference. Gratitude doesn’t mean we’re thankful for loss, pain, or confusion—it means we’re choosing to trust that God’s goodness hasn’t changed, even when our situation has.

The Steadiness of God’s Character

When everything else in life shifts, God remains steady.
His love doesn’t depend on our performance. His grace doesn’t run dry. His faithfulness doesn’t falter with our circumstances.

When we root our thankfulness in who He is, we find a steadiness that no situation can shake.

This kind of gratitude looks like peace in the middle of uncertainty.
It looks like worship in the waiting.
It looks like hope in the heartbreak.

Because when our gratitude is anchored in God’s character, we can face anything and still say, “It is well with my soul.”

The Practice of Steady Gratitude

One of the ways I’ve learned to nurture this kind of thankfulness is through stillness—slowing down enough to notice the small reminders of God’s presence.

It’s easy to overlook them when life feels heavy:
The quiet sunrise that whispers new mercy.
The unexpected text that lifts your spirit.
The Scripture verse that meets you exactly where you are.

Gratitude in hard seasons often starts with something small—one whispered “thank You” that grows into another.

When we take time to pause, to reflect, and to remember His goodness, it realigns our hearts.
Even when circumstances shift, our confidence in His love does not.

A Gentle Challenge

This week, take a moment to reflect:

  • What are you thankful for that has nothing to do with your circumstances?

  • How has God shown Himself faithful, even when life didn’t go as planned?

  • Where have you seen His steady hand at work in your story lately?

Write them down. Speak them out loud. Share them with someone else.
Because gratitude that’s spoken has power—it changes the atmosphere around us and reminds our hearts of what’s true.

A Prayer of Thankfulness

Lord, thank You that my gratitude doesn’t depend on what’s happening around me, but on who You are within me.
Thank You that Your love never fails, Your promises never change, and Your presence never leaves.
Teach me to be thankful in every circumstance—to trust that You are good, even when life feels uncertain.
Let my heart remain steady in Your faithfulness, and may my gratitude become a reflection of Your grace.
Amen.

🌿 A Place to Belong

If you’re learning to cultivate this kind of steady gratitude—one that’s rooted in who God is, not what’s happening around you—we’d love to walk with you. Join our community of women who are learning to live with thankful hearts, no matter the season.
👉 Join our Facebook community here.

Thankfulness That Brings Abundance

““You crown the year with Your goodness, and Your paths overflow with abundance.” ”
— Psalm 65:11

There’s something about gratitude that changes the way we see everything.
When we start to notice God’s fingerprints in the everyday moments—our morning coffee, a child’s laughter, a sunset after a long day—our hearts begin to shift. What once felt small starts to feel sacred. What once felt ordinary becomes evidence of God’s extraordinary grace.

It’s not that life suddenly gets easier. It’s that our perspective changes.
Because when gratitude fills our hearts, scarcity loses its grip.

The Mindset of Scarcity vs. the Posture of Gratitude

For a long time, I lived with a quiet sense of scarcity—always feeling like I needed to do more, be more, have more. I’d look at others’ success or blessings and feel like mine didn’t measure up.

But here’s what I’ve learned: gratitude and comparison can’t coexist.
When you’re truly thankful, you stop counting what’s missing and start celebrating what’s already there.

Psalm 65:11 says, “You crown the year with Your goodness, and Your paths overflow with abundance.” That word overflow paints such a vivid picture—it’s not a trickle of blessing, it’s a river. God’s goodness doesn’t run out; it keeps flowing, even when we can’t see it.

When we live with gratitude, we begin to recognize that abundance isn’t always about having more—it’s about realizing we already have enough.

Gratitude Multiplies What We Have

There’s a story in John 6 that I come back to often—the feeding of the five thousand. A young boy offered his small lunch of five loaves and two fish, and Jesus gave thanks.

That’s it. He gave thanks.
And what was small became more than enough.

It’s such a simple but powerful reminder: gratitude multiplies.
When we place what we have in God’s hands and thank Him for it, He transforms it into abundance—whether that’s time, energy, finances, or opportunities.

I’ve seen this in my own life again and again. Times when I’ve felt stretched thin or unsure how I’d manage, and yet God met every need—sometimes through provision, sometimes through peace.

Abundance isn’t just what’s in our hands. It’s what God does with our open hearts.

When Gratitude Leads to Obedience

In A Pace of Grace, I talk about how gratitude and obedience are deeply connected. When we recognize all that God has done for us, our natural response is to live from a place of trust and surrender.

Obedience becomes less about striving and more about aligning our hearts with His goodness.
We stop asking, “What if I give this up?” and start saying, “How could I not, after all He’s given me?”

Gratitude changes how we approach our callings, our work, and even our waiting seasons.
It turns our focus from “I have to” to “I get to.”
And in that shift, joy begins to bloom.

Abundance Isn’t Always What We Expect

Sometimes abundance looks like answered prayers and doors opening wide. Other times, it looks like peace in the middle of what feels like lack.

True abundance isn’t measured by what’s in your bank account or on your calendar. It’s measured by the fullness of your soul.

You might be in a season where everything feels uncertain—where resources are tight or dreams are delayed. But even there, God’s goodness is not absent. It might be showing up in small ways: a text from a friend, a moment of laughter, a breath of calm in the middle of chaos.

When we begin to thank God for those moments, we start to see that abundance has been surrounding us all along.

A Gentle Challenge

This week, I want to invite you to practice abundance thinking.
Instead of focusing on what’s missing, take a moment each day to write down what you already have.

Maybe it’s the comfort of home, the joy of family, the gift of health, or the peace that comes from knowing Jesus.

Ask yourself:

  • Where have I seen God’s goodness this week?

  • What can I thank Him for right now, even before I see the outcome?

  • How can I use what I already have to bless someone else?

Gratitude isn’t passive—it’s active. The more we thank God, the more aware we become of His presence in our daily lives. And that awareness is where true abundance begins.

A Prayer of Thankfulness

Lord, thank You for Your goodness that never runs out.
Teach me to see abundance not as more things, but as more of You.
Help me recognize the blessings You’ve already placed in my life and to hold them with open hands.
Let gratitude shape my days and overflow from my heart, so that others may see Your goodness through me.
Amen.

🌿 A Place to Belong

If you’re longing to live from a place of abundance and gratitude, we’d love to walk with you. Our community of women encourages one another to notice God’s goodness in every season and to live rooted in His grace.
👉 Join our Facebook community here.

Thankful Even When Our Hearts Are Broken

““The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” ”
— Psalm 34:18

There’s a strange kind of quiet that comes after loss—when the familiar rhythms of your days suddenly stop, and you’re left standing in the stillness, wondering what comes next.

I remember sitting at my desk for the last time after losing a job I deeply loved. It wasn’t just a job to me—it was a calling, a place where I had poured out my heart, my time, and my prayers. When it was gone, I felt like a part of my identity had been stripped away.

Everything that once felt steady now felt uncertain. I tried to hold it together, to trust that God had a plan, but my heart was heavy. Gratitude felt far away—almost out of reach.

And yet, it was in that broken place that I began to learn what true thankfulness really means.

Gratitude Isn’t Denial—It’s Trust

When our hearts are broken, we often think gratitude means pretending everything is fine. But biblical gratitude isn’t denial; it’s trust.

It’s saying, “God, I don’t understand this, but I believe You’re still good.”
It’s choosing to thank Him not for the pain, but in it.

When I lost my job, I felt disoriented. I didn’t realize how much of my worth I had unknowingly attached to what I did instead of who I was in Christ. It was humbling and painful, but it was also holy. Because in the stripping away, God began rebuilding my foundation on something stronger—Himself.

As I wrestled through disappointment, I found comfort in Psalm 34:18: “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted.” Those words reminded me that even when everything else felt distant, God wasn’t. He was right there, in the tears, the questions, and the quiet.

The Gift Hidden in the Loss

Looking back now, I can see that losing that job wasn’t the end—it was the beginning of something new. But I couldn’t see that at the time.

All I could see was what was gone.
What I didn’t know was that God was already writing the next chapter, one that would lead to deeper healing, clearer calling, and renewed trust.

The space I thought was empty was actually fertile ground.
It was the soil where God would grow new things—ministries, relationships, and opportunities I never would have pursued if I had stayed where I was comfortable.

Sometimes, gratitude begins not with joy but with surrender.
It’s a whispered, “Lord, even here… I thank You.”

When Gratitude Feels Like a Sacrifice

Hebrews 13:15 calls us to offer a “sacrifice of praise.”
That word—sacrifice—means it will cost us something.

When we’re heartbroken, thankfulness doesn’t come naturally. It requires faith. It’s a conscious choice to look for God’s hand even when we can’t see His plan.

During that season, I remember journaling prayers that were half tears and half thanks. I didn’t have answers, but I had Jesus. And somehow, that became enough.

The more I practiced gratitude, the more I realized it wasn’t changing my circumstances—it was changing me. My prayers shifted from “Why, God?” to “What are You showing me here?”

Gratitude began to soften the ache. It didn’t erase it, but it gave it purpose.

Thankfulness in the Midst of Becoming

In A Pace of Grace, I write about how God often meets us in the middle of our becoming—in the moments when life feels uncertain, but our faith is being stretched. This was one of those seasons.

Losing that job forced me to slow down, to listen, and to let God remind me that my value wasn’t in my title or productivity—it was in being His daughter.

I think that’s what gratitude does—it reorients our hearts. It pulls us out of the fog of self-pity and into the light of His presence. It reminds us that even when life feels broken, God is still working beauty into the pieces.

And isn’t that the heart of thanksgiving? Not that everything goes our way, but that we recognize God’s goodness hasn’t changed even when our world has.

A Gentle Challenge

This week, if your heart feels heavy, I want to encourage you to pause and ask:
Where can I thank God right here?

It might not be for what happened, but maybe you can thank Him for His nearness.
For the lessons you’re learning.
For the people who’ve walked beside you.
For the quiet that allows you to hear His voice again.

Write it down. Speak it out loud. Pray it through tears if you need to.

Because even in heartbreak, gratitude grows hope—and hope is what keeps us moving forward with faith.

A Prayer of Thankfulness

Lord, thank You for meeting me in the broken places.
Thank You that even when I don’t understand, You are still good, still near, still working.
Teach me to see Your hand in the hard things and to offer You my gratitude even when it feels costly.
Help me to trust that You are writing beauty into this story, one line at a time.
Amen.

🌿 A Place to Belong

If you’re walking through a hard season and need encouragement, you’re not alone. Our community of women is a space to find hope, healing, and connection. Come join us as we walk through life together and learn to see God’s goodness—no matter what season we’re in.
👉 Join our Facebook community here.

Thankful for the People God Brings into Our Lives

““I thank my God every time I remember you.” ”
— Philippians 1:3

There are people who cross our paths and leave a mark so deep that it changes the shape of who we are. Some walk with us for years, their presence steady and familiar—others show up for only a season but leave fingerprints of grace on our hearts. And often, we don’t recognize their significance until much later, when we look back and realize how intentionally God placed them in our story.

I’ve learned that community isn’t something we accidentally stumble into. It’s something God builds, one person at a time.

When God Uses People as His Hands and Feet

There have been seasons in my life when I’ve prayed for direction or encouragement—and instead of an immediate answer, God sent a person.
A text came at just the right moment.
A friend showed up with coffee and conversation.
A mentor spoke truth that I didn’t necessarily want to hear but needed to receive.

Sometimes His presence looks like a person sitting beside you, listening without trying to fix anything.

Paul understood this kind of gratitude. His letters to the churches overflow with appreciation—not just for what the believers did, but for who they were. “I thank my God every time I remember you.” It wasn’t about grand gestures; it was about their faith, their prayers, their partnership in the gospel. Their lives reminded him of God’s faithfulness.

When we look around at the people in our own lives—the ones praying with us, walking with us, challenging us—it’s an invitation to pause and thank God. These relationships are evidence that He sees us.

Some People Are Meant to Stay, Others to Shape

Not every relationship will last a lifetime. Some are meant for a season, designed to guide, stretch, or even sanctify us.
And that’s okay.

There’s beauty in recognizing that not every person who comes into your life is meant to stay forever. Some are sent to remind you of who you are in Christ. Some are there to walk you through a specific chapter, and others may only stay long enough to point you back toward God.

We often grieve when relationships shift or end, but I’ve learned that even those moments hold gratitude. Because when you trace God’s hand through your story, you’ll often find that He was weaving purpose into every introduction, every goodbye, and every in-between moment.

Gratitude for the Ones Who Walk Beside You

Think of the people who have been spiritual anchors in your life—those who prayed with you when you couldn’t find words, who celebrated your wins, or who gently held space for your pain.
Those people are gifts.

Sometimes it’s easy to overlook the ones who are consistent—the friends who check in, the small group that prays, the mentor who listens without judgment. Yet these steady relationships often carry us through seasons when we might have otherwise given up.

When we stop to thank God for them, it shifts our hearts from expecting to appreciating. It reminds us that we’re not meant to walk this life alone.

When Gratitude Builds Community

In A Pace of Grace, I write about the beauty of living in authentic community—about how vulnerability is what turns acquaintances into sisters and fellowship into family. True community happens when we choose to see one another fully, to celebrate each other’s wins without comparison, and to stand with each other through hardship.

Gratitude is what fuels that kind of connection.
When we thank God for one another, we start to see people the way He does: as image-bearers, as stories in progress, as reflections of His grace.

It’s no coincidence that so many of Paul’s letters start with thanksgiving. Gratitude has a way of softening our hearts toward one another, even in disagreement or distance. When we practice it, we reflect the heart of Christ—who saw people not for what they could give Him, but for who they were becoming through Him.

A Gentle Challenge

This week, I want to invite you to take a few minutes and thank God for the people He’s placed in your life.

Maybe it’s a longtime friend who has seen every side of you and loves you anyway.
Maybe it’s a mentor who helped you grow when you were unsure of your next step.
Or maybe it’s someone who challenged you to heal, to stretch, or to step out in faith.

Write their names down.
Pray for them.
And if you can, tell them.

There’s power in letting someone know that they’ve made a difference—that their obedience to God’s prompting mattered. You never know how much those words might mean to someone who’s been faithfully showing up.

A Prayer of Thankfulness

Lord, thank You for the people You’ve placed in my life.
Thank You for the ones who walk beside me, for those who challenge me, and for those who remind me of Your love.
Help me to see every relationship as a reflection of Your grace.
When I’m tempted to take people for granted, remind me to pause and give thanks.
And when relationships shift or fade, help me trust that You are still writing my story with purpose and care.
Amen.

Reflection Prompt:

  • Who are three people you can thank God for this week?

  • What would it look like to express that gratitude—through a note, a message, or a prayer?

🌿 A Place to Belong

If you’re longing for connection or looking for a community of women who love Jesus and cheer one another on, we’d love for you to join us. Come be part of the conversation, find encouragement, and grow with other women who are walking this journey, too.

👉 Join our Facebook community here: www.facebook.com/groups/asisterhoodofgrace

The Fruit of Rest

““I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.””
— John 15:5

We’ve spent the past month talking about slowing down—about breathing, pausing, and trusting God with the parts of life that feel like too much. But rest isn’t just about stopping; it’s about what grows when we do.

When we finally choose to rest, we start to notice something remarkable: fruit begins to form quietly in the stillness.

Peace replaces hurry.
Joy returns where anxiety once lived.
Patience grows in places we thought were barren.
And our hearts begin to soften again—toward God, toward others, and even toward ourselves.

“Rest isn’t the absence of work—it’s the presence of peace.”

The Fruit That Comes From Abiding

Jesus said that when we remain in Him—when we stay close, connected, and rooted—that’s when the fruit comes. We can’t force growth, just like we can’t make peace appear on command. But when we abide, when we rest in His love, fruit grows naturally.

Rest produces fruit that hustle never could. It creates space for spiritual depth, emotional healing, and genuine connection. It helps us move from surviving to thriving—because we’re no longer running on empty, but overflowing from His strength.

A New Kind of Productivity

The world measures success by output. God measures it by intimacy.

In His kingdom, productivity looks like patience. Success looks like faithfulness. Rest looks like trust.

Maybe that’s why Jesus could nap in the middle of a storm—because His peace wasn’t tied to what was happening around Him, but to who He was anchored to.

“When we rest, we remind the world that peace isn’t earned—it’s received.”

A Simple Step This Week

As you prepare to turn the corner into the holidays, take time to look back over this month and ask God what He’s been cultivating in you.

  • Pause and reflect. What fruit has rest produced in your life this month—peace, patience, gratitude, clarity, or healing?

  • Celebrate small growth. Write down one way you’ve seen God move in your heart through this journey.

  • Pray forward. Ask God to help you carry this rhythm of rest into the next season.

Reflection Questions

  • How has practicing rest changed the way you see your relationship with God?

  • What new fruit is beginning to grow in your life as a result of slowing down?

A Prayer for Fruitful Rest

Father, thank You for teaching me to slow down. Thank You for meeting me in the quiet and showing me that rest isn’t wasted—it’s where You do Your deepest work. Help me to remain in You so that my life bears fruit that lasts. Let peace, joy, and gentleness overflow from my time with You. In Jesus’ name, amen.

✨ Your Turn: What fruit have you seen from choosing rest this month? Share in the comments so we can celebrate together! And as we step into the busy holiday season, remember this truth: when you stay rooted in Christ, your soul will flourish—even in the busiest seasons of life. 🌻

Rest as Worship: Emptying the Cup

““Be still, and know that I am God.””
— Psalm 46:10

A story goes that a wise monk once hosted a man known for his knowledge and endless opinions. As they sat together, the monk poured tea until the cup overflowed. Startled, the man exclaimed, “Stop! It’s already full!”

The monk smiled gently. “Exactly,” he said. “Like this cup, your mind is so full that nothing new can enter.”

That story gets me every time. Because I’ve lived with a mind that’s too full—a heart overflowing with thoughts, worries, responsibilities, and noise. My days are packed with doing, planning, and pouring out. And yet, the more I fill my schedule, the emptier I feel inside.

Maybe you know that feeling too.

““Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.””
— Matthew 11:28

When the Cup Overflows

We think we need to manage one more task, say yes to one more thing, or push through one more week—but what we really need is space. Rest is the emptying that makes room for what truly matters.

“You can’t receive what God wants to pour in if your soul is already overflowing.”

Rest isn’t a reward for finishing your to-do list—it’s a way of saying, “God, I trust You to hold what I can’t.”

When we slow down long enough to breathe and be still, we’re reminded that the world doesn’t depend on us. God holds it all together. And in that stillness, our hearts finally have room to listen.

Rest as Worship

Rest isn’t just physical—it’s spiritual. Every time you stop striving, you’re declaring that God is enough. You’re saying, “My identity isn’t in what I do—it’s in who You are.”

“Rest is worship because it shifts the focus from what we can do to what God has already done.”

When you light a candle, close your eyes, or take a quiet walk and whisper “thank You,” that’s worship. When you turn off the noise and let your soul breathe, that’s worship. When you let go of guilt for doing less and receive God’s peace instead, that’s worship.

As we head into the holiday season—a time that tends to pull us in every direction—let’s make a conscious choice: to keep our cups half-empty so there’s room for God to fill them.

A Simple Step This Week

Here are a few gentle ways to practice rest as worship this week:

  • Reclaim quiet. Start or end your day with five minutes of silence. Let God’s presence be enough.

  • Simplify your yes. Before committing to something, pause and pray: “God, is this for this season?”

  • Name your gratitude. Write down three small things that reminded you of God’s presence this week.

Reflection Questions

  • Where in your life is your cup overflowing—and what needs to be poured out?

  • How might slowing down this week become an act of worship instead of just “self-care”?

A Prayer for a Quieted Soul

God, my heart feels full of noise and my hands are tired from holding too much. Teach me to set things down. Help me see rest not as a break from worship, but as part of it. Empty what needs to go so You can fill me with Your peace. Keep me close to Your heart as I move into this next season. Amen.

✨ Your Turn: What’s one way you can make rest a form of worship this week? Share your thoughts in the comments—we’d love to hear how you’re finding peace in the pause. And as we head toward the holidays, remember: rest isn’t what happens when life slows down—it’s what happens when we invite God in. 💛

Rest Is Resistance

 By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work. Then God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done. Genesis 2:2-3

“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.”
— John 15:5

There’s a phrase I’ve been holding onto lately: Rest is resistance.

In a culture that celebrates hustle and glorifies exhaustion, slowing down feels rebellious. We’re taught to measure our worth by what we accomplish, how busy we stay, and how much we can juggle before dropping something. But God offers us a completely different rhythm—one that starts with rest, not performance.

From the very beginning, He modeled it. “By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work.” (Genesis 2:2)

God didn’t rest because He was tired. He rested because creation was complete. He looked at all He had made and called it good. Rest wasn’t the reward for His work—it was part of the work itself.

The Quiet Courage of Saying “Enough”

Rest takes courage. It means choosing to believe that your value doesn’t depend on what you produce.

“Rest says: I have nothing to prove and nothing to earn. I am already loved.”

When we stop striving, we confront the voices that tell us we’re falling behind or not doing enough. But here’s the truth—rest isn’t laziness. It’s worship. It’s trusting that God is still working even when we’re not.

Every time we rest, we declare, “The world doesn’t revolve around me—it revolves around Him.”

Redefining Success

We’ve been conditioned to chase goals, numbers, and accolades. But Jesus redefined success when He said in John 15:5, “Apart from me, you can do nothing.”

The goal isn’t to do more—it’s to abide more deeply.
When we live connected to Him, fruit happens naturally. Peace, patience, love—they flow from being rooted in His presence, not from our own effort.

So maybe rest is less about “getting ahead” and more about getting aligned.

“Rest isn’t the pause before productivity—it’s the posture of trust that fuels it.”

A Simple Step This Week

Take one intentional action that declares your trust in God’s provision this week:

  • Set a boundary. Say no to one thing that drains you. It’s okay to disappoint people to be faithful to God.

  • Plan a Sabbath window. It doesn’t have to be a full day—start with half. Turn off your phone, light a candle, go for a walk, read Scripture, laugh with your people. Let your soul breathe.

  • Redefine your win. At the end of the week, don’t measure success by what you accomplished. Measure it by how present you were—with God, with people, and with yourself.

Reflection Questions

  • What would it look like for you to resist hustle this week?

  • Where are you being invited to trust God more than your own effort?

A Prayer for Surrender

Father, thank You for modeling rest. Forgive me for believing that my worth comes from what I produce. Teach me to rest as an act of worship—to trust that You’re still working when I’m not. Help me release control, slow my pace, and abide in Your love. Amen.

✨ Your Turn: What does “rest as resistance” look like in your life right now? Share your thoughts in the comments—we grow stronger when we rest together. And if this encouraged you, send it to someone who’s tired of striving and needs the reminder: you don’t have to earn peace—it’s already yours in Christ. 💛



God Told Elijah to Nap

“Elijah was afraid and fled for his life. He went to Beersheba, a town in Judah, and he left his servant there. Then he went on alone into the wilderness, traveling all day. He sat down under a solitary broom tree and prayed that he might die. “I have had enough, Lord,” he said. “Take my life, for I am no better than my ancestors who have already died.” Then he lay down and slept under the broom tree. But as he was sleeping, an angel touched him and told him, “Get up and eat!” He looked around and there beside his head was some bread baked on hot stones and a jar of water! So he ate and drank and lay down again. Then the angel of the Lord came again and touched him and said, “Get up and eat some more, or the journey ahead will be too much for you.” So he got up and ate and drank, and the food gave him enough strength to travel forty days and forty nights to Mount Sinai, the mountain of God.”
— ‭‭1 Kings‬ ‭19‬:‭3‬-‭8‬ ‭NLT‬‬

There’s a meme I saw once that made me laugh out loud: “Elijah was overwhelmed and ready to give up, so God gave him a snack and told him to take a nap.”

It’s funny because it’s true. And it’s powerful because it’s Scripture.

Elijah was exhausted—physically, emotionally, and spiritually. He had just faced down prophets, carried heavy responsibility, and then ran for his life. By the time he collapsed under a tree, he was completely done. His words in 1 Kings 19:4 are raw: “I have had enough, Lord.”

And how did God respond? Not with a lecture. Not with a pep talk. But with compassion. He sent an angel who offered Elijah food and let him sleep. Twice.

The Holiness of Sleep and Food

This story stops me in my tracks. Because sometimes, the most spiritual thing we can do is eat a real meal and go to bed early.

“Sometimes holiness looks like hydration, a good meal, and an early bedtime.”

We don’t often think of rest this way. We assume that “spiritual” means more prayer, more serving, more doing. But God designed our bodies with limits. When we ignore those limits, we run ourselves into the ground. When we honor them, we step into God’s rhythm.

Elijah’s nap and snack weren’t wasted time. They were sacred preparation. After rest, Elijah was able to hear God’s whisper and receive direction for what came next.

Trusting God With Our Limits

Our culture tells us to push harder, hustle longer, and prove our worth through productivity. But Elijah’s story reminds us that God doesn’t need our nonstop striving. What He wants is our trust.

Rest is an act of trust. When you close your laptop, turn off the light, or put down your phone, you’re saying, “God, I believe You’re still at work, even while I sleep.”

Limits aren’t weakness—they’re grace. They remind us that we are human, and God is God.

A Simple Step This Week

Here are two gentle ways to lean into God’s rhythm of rest this week:

  • Honor your bedtime. Choose one night to turn in earlier than usual. Instead of squeezing in one more chore or one more episode, choose sleep as an act of trust.

  • Eat with intention. Instead of grabbing food on the go, sit down for one meal this week without rushing. Thank God for the nourishment, and let it remind you that He provides for your needs.

Reflection Questions

  • Do you see your limits as weaknesses or as invitations from God?

  • Where in your life could you treat rest as worship instead of an afterthought?

A Prayer for the Weary

Father, thank You for creating me with limits and for caring about my whole being. Forgive me for pushing past exhaustion as if I were in control. Teach me to honor the simple gifts of food, sleep, and stillness as holy. Help me to trust You more deeply in my rest. Amen.

✨ Your Turn: What’s one simple way you can honor your limits this week—through sleep, nourishment, or slowing down? Share it in the comments so we can encourage one another. And if this post spoke to you, send it to a friend who could use the reminder: sometimes the most spiritual thing you can do is take a nap.