Have you ever taken a step back, seeking rest, only to find yourself wrestling more with inner restlessness than outer busyness? That was the story of my Day 1, and it surprised me how hard it is to truly slow down.
Setting the Scene: The Start of My Retreat
It’s the end of Day 1 of my personal retreat. Seeking respite, I opted for an early bedtime and nestled under the covers by 9 pm. But rather than drift into peaceful sleep, I found myself wide awake. Rest evading me no matter how hard I chased it. Eventually, I gave up on sleep and turned to writing, hoping to make sense of it all.
Day 1: A Mixed Bag
Retreats are meant to be rejuvenating; mine has been a mixed bag thus far.
- The hotel bed is comfortable—unless you count the persistent draft blowing across my face.
- The aircon works, except for the filter that clearly needs cleaning (my allergies can confirm).
- The sea view is magnificent, but static—unchanging, unmoving.
- Penang food is as delectable as I’d hoped, but the prices bite (thanks to my misadventure at a touristy version of Newton Hawker Centre).
You get the picture. And if I were honest, there is an internal disquiet within me, and this is affecting how I am experiencing the world around me.
The Challenge of Slowing Down
Slowing down is proving to be one of the hardest things for me to do. Even my language betrays me—I keep wanting to “do” instead of simply “be.” Even as I noticed my language, I realize there is some deeply rooted wiring that I need to address.
My attempts at intentional slowing down left me drained by the evening. I walked, listened to music, napped, read, journaled, reflected deeply on stories I encountered, and wrote some more. But it felt like I was endlessly orbiting the sun when what I truly wanted was to draw closer to the Son.
The Nature of True Rest
As I examine my need for rest, I realize it isn’t merely about stopping work. While a break from productivity can help, rest is more than the absence of labor. Writing, for instance, can become just another kind of productivity—fuel for blog stats or social media validation. Thankfully, my occasional dabble with posting things online so far has taught me to avoid creating for numbers alone.
Consuming content, on the other hand—doom scrolling, YouTube binges—offers only fleeting distraction. At the end of a busy day, these habits haven’t left me rested, merely momentarily paused. And I’ve settled that for kind of rest, when deep down, my soul craves something more.
Modern life, with its relentless distractions—social media, ever-present work, urban busyness—can quickly numb the soul.
When Rest Feels Impossible
Stripped of distractions, I still found unrest. Even with time set aside solely for rest, what holds me back? The answer: my fractured soul.
I’ve spent so much energy fending off distractions, chasing productivity, falling into empty consumption, and settling for mere cessation from labor. All of it creates fractures in my soul—fractures that make true rest impossible.
“Come to me, all who are weary, and I will give you rest.” (Matt 11:28)
This weariness, I’m realizing, is best lifted through returning to the embrace of Christ. Rest means shifting my gaze from endless orbit around achievement, media, distraction—to the One I long for.
True Rest: A Sacred Space
The book of Hebrews describes rest not just as a state, but as a place—a homecoming to an ever-present God. It’s like being the prodigal son, welcomed home; like Moses encountering the burning bush in a desolate wilderness; like the garden of Gethsemane where pain and tears are held sacred. Rest, then, is a tabernacle—an intentional, sacred pause—constructed in the midst of life’s journey so I might truly worship.
The Honest Truth
And yet, as I reflect on Day 1 of my retreat, I realize: this tabernacle of worship is the one thing I have not yet done.
Invitation & Takeaway
Maybe you, like me, are seeking rest and finding it elusive. Perhaps true rest isn’t simply time off, but time in the presence of God—a return home, a sacred pause. If you’re feeling fractured, know you’re not alone. Let’s create space—for worship, for presence, for the kind of rest only the Divine can give.
Tomorrow is another day. Maybe I’ll finally enter that true rest I crave.
Edit: I indeed rested well for the most of Day 2. I worshiped God in my own way, and my power naps became restful, my morning meals became meditative, my journalling became more honest, my books spoke to me deeply, and my walks along the beach led me to a new cadence.
