Rest

I wonder what your holiday routines look like. Jess and I have a tradition where she will pack what I deem to be far too much stuff to take away - we’ll have an argument about it and I'll say there is no way we can possibly fit it in the car, she will get upset - I’ll pack it all in the car without any issues, and then we’ll go away. It has been such a long tradition in our relationship, I’m not sure it would feel like a holiday if it didn’t start in this way!

For many of us, the start of July means we are looking towards holidays. Whether you're heading somewhere sunny, or simply taking a few days away from the usual routine, there's something in the rhythm of rest that feels important - even necessary - even if the arguments are not a required part.

We live in a world that prizes busyness. To stop can feel almost guilty, as though we should always be producing, achieving, doing. And yet, the word holiday has its roots in something older and deeper: they are to be holy days. Days set apart. Days that are different.

From the very beginning, rest was written into creation. God himself rested on the seventh day - not because he was tired, but because rest is good. It is, in fact, part of the design. And in Exodus, the commandment to rest isn't a suggestion - it sits alongside some pretty serious company.

So if you find yourself by the sea this month, or in the garden with a cup of tea and nowhere to be - know that you are not being lazy. You are being faithful to something ancient and holy. Rest is not the opposite of devotion. It is devotion.

May your July hold some stillness. May it hold some joy. And may you return from your rest, like the disciples returning to Jesus, ready to share all that you have seen and done - renewed, and a little more whole. "Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while."— Mark 6:31