REST.
Beloveds,
It’s Sunday morning.
Come sit with us for a minute.
🪑🪑
You don’t have to bring anything.
Not what you accomplished this week.
Not what you didn’t accomplish.
Not the thing you still haven’t figured out.
Not an explanation for why you’re tired.
Just you.
Come sit.
There’s a chair for you here.
Maybe this week was beautiful.
Maybe it was hard.
Maybe it was both before Tuesday.
Maybe you handled everything that came your way.
Maybe some things handled you.
Maybe you laughed until your stomach hurt.
Maybe you cried somewhere nobody saw you.
Maybe you checked every box on the list.
Maybe the list is somewhere underneath another list you haven’t looked at since Wednesday.
😂
Either way—
you’re here.
And this morning, I don’t want anything from you.
I don’t need you to turn this week into a lesson.
I don’t need you to find the silver lining.
I don’t need you to tell me three things you’re grateful for.
I don’t need you to make a plan for Monday.
I don’t even need you to leave this chair feeling better than you did when you sat down.
I just want you to rest.
And rest, beloveds, is bigger than sleep.
Sometimes rest is sleep.
Sometimes it’s quiet.
Sometimes it’s laughter.
Sometimes it’s prayer.
Sometimes it’s turning the phone over and deciding everybody can survive without you for a little while.
Sometimes it’s watching something that requires absolutely no deep thought whatsoever.
🍿
Sometimes it’s saying:
I don’t know yet.
And letting yet be enough.
Sometimes rest is not answering today.
Not deciding today.
Not explaining yourself one more time today.
Sometimes rest is allowing something that belongs to you to sit beside you instead of carrying it every single minute.
Because here’s something I think we forget:
Even what belongs to you doesn’t have to be carried every minute.
You can put it down.
That doesn’t mean you’ve abandoned it.
It doesn’t mean you’re irresponsible.
It doesn’t mean you’ve quit.
It means you’re human.
There will always be something else to do.
Another decision.
Another responsibility.
Another problem.
Another load of laundry.
Another email.
Another somebody needing something.
If we decide we’ll rest when everything is finished, beloveds, we have scheduled rest for the twelfth of Neveruary.
😂
Life doesn’t finish before we get to rest.
Rest is not the reward for finishing life.
👀
And rest doesn’t have to justify itself by making you more productive tomorrow.
You don’t have to say:
I’m resting now so I can work harder later.
No.
Rest doesn’t have to submit a résumé.
Rest doesn’t have to explain what it plans to accomplish.
You are allowed to rest because you are a human being and human beings were never meant to operate like machines.
So wherever Sunday morning found you—
church clothes.
Work clothes.
Pajamas.
Hospital room.
Kitchen table.
Somebody else’s couch.
Your own bed.
Surrounded by people.
Completely alone.
Certain about what you believe.
Questioning everything.
Somewhere in between.
There is a chair for you here.
No admission price.
No belief requirement.
No performance review.
No explanation necessary.
Just a chair.
🪑
Mine is here too.
And somewhere nearby is my bestie’s chair.
🪑
We’re not fixing anything this morning.
We’re not solving next week.
We’re not dragging Monday into Sunday because Monday knows how to find us all by itself.
😂
Today, we’re sitting.
Maybe something warm is in your hands.
Maybe sunlight found the window.
Maybe the house is quiet.
Maybe it isn’t.
Maybe nothing feels peaceful at all.
You don’t have to manufacture peace for this moment to count.
You don’t have to make Sunday pretty.
You don’t have to make pain inspirational.
You don’t have to make exhaustion productive.
You don’t have to make grief teach you something before noon.
You can simply be here.
And if something is waiting for you?
Let it wait a little while.
If it belongs to you, you can pick it back up.
Later.
Sometimes putting something down is exactly how we remain able to carry it.
So no challenge today.
No homework.
No five things to do before Monday.
No demand that you leave here improved.
Just this:
Rest.
Not because you’ve earned it.
Not because everything is done.
Not because tomorrow needs a better version of you.
Rest because you are here.
Rest because you are human.
Rest because even strong people need somewhere to put things down.
And if you don’t know where to put yours right now?
Set it beside the chair.
🔑
We’ll leave room.
You don’t have to bring anything to this chair except you.
Stay as long as you need.
loving me some you
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe
