In the quiet moments between tasks, a truth has been slowly emerging in my life—one that I’ve been reluctant to face. I’m a workaholic. I always have been. And just when I convince myself I’m making progress, reality sets in.
Recently, I started reading The Search for Significance by Robert S. McGee. The book opens with a prayer I’ve uttered countless times from Psalm 139:23-24: “Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”
What struck me most was the story of Brad and Lisa in the first chapter. The passage highlighted in the image describes a husband so consumed by work that his family becomes an afterthought. Brad’s hollow promises—”When this big case is over, the pressure will be off”—mirror the empty assurances I’ve made to my loved ones and myself.
You might think my transition to an hourly position after two decades of salaried work would have helped. For the first time, I can’t bring work home or stay late. I’ve stepped down from management to a coordinator role. On paper, it’s the perfect solution.
Yet here I am, finding new ways to fill every waking moment with “productivity.” Over the past two months, I’ve poured countless hours into a training class I only teach once or twice annually and built a website for it. I published my first children’s book (which is wonderful, even if my mom and daughter are the only readers!), took on a part-time job, AND began helping a non-profit redesign their website. Oh, and I decided to learn piano, too—because apparently sleep is optional.
Matthew 11:28-30 keeps echoing in my mind: “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.”
Why is this invitation to rest so difficult to accept?
I often reflect on Ephesians 2:10, which reminds us that “we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” The order here matters profoundly—we are God’s masterpiece FIRST. The doing follows the being.
Reading about Brad “continually solving other people’s problems but never those of his own family” felt like looking into a mirror. How many significant moments have I missed while fixating on tasks that seemed crucial at the time but fade in importance with perspective?
Isaiah 30:15 has been challenging me lately: “In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength.”
The uncomfortable truth is that staying busy is easier than sitting with myself and examining why I feel this constant need to achieve. Is my worth really tied to my productivity? Do I believe people value me more when I accomplish more? Am I seeking approval from someone or something other than God?
As I continue this journey, I’m praying for help in separating my identity from my achievements. I need to find my significance in who I am in Christ, not in what I do.
Perhaps you’re like me, filling every spare moment with something “productive.” If so, I invite you to join me in asking: What might happen if we actually permitted ourselves to rest? To be still? To trust that our worth comes from being loved by God, not from our packed schedules?
Lord, help me learn that sometimes the most spiritual thing I can do is absolutely nothing.
