Writer Alex Noel reflects on the transformative power of rest after taking a month-long sabbatical in August. What began as a counterintuitive decision to step back from work became a season of renewal, where slowing down opened space for both restoration and spiritual insight.
This year I decided to take the whole of August off. It’s something I’ve never done before as a working adult, thinking it the preserve of wealthy company executives, or continental Europeans (a longstanding tradition in France, Spain and Italy especially). But definitely not for me.
As a freelancer it’s counter-intuitive - foolish even, to completely down tools and rest instead. I feel duty-bound to stay ‘open for business’ so I don’t miss opportunities. However, this year was different. With a contract ending on 1 August, and some money saved up to cover my costs, I had both the time and resources. Plus a deep conviction that this is what I needed, and that God was asking me to take a step of faith. In my calendar I blocked out the month of August, turned down work I was offered and literally shut up shop.
READ MORE: It’s important to take a Sabbath and I don’t think we should live without it
Now on the other side, I can confidently say it was the best decision. I kept it simple - staying put in London where I’m based, but everything else changed. I rested - intentionally. I spent time reading books, watching movies, eating delicious healthy food, going for walks, sitting in the park, enjoying the sun, drawing and listening to music. With the odd gallery visit and theatre trip thrown in. My intense pace over the last year slowed down to a standstill, accompanied by an immense feeling of relief. My mind, usually whirring with to-do lists, devising strategies, or figuring out how to solve ‘x, y and z’, went quiet. As this energy dissipated, my emotions followed suit - becoming still and calm. It was as if I’d withdrawn to the desert, without even leaving town. And in this space an unexpected thing happened. God began rewire my whole operating system.
In Matthew 11:28-30 Jesus says “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.”
READ MORE: Busyness is not close to godliness
As I pondered this passage, with its pastoral language invoking oxen ploughing fields, and Jesus himself the farmer driving a plough; it made its appeal to me.
As I pondered this passage, with its pastoral language invoking oxen ploughing fields, and Jesus himself the farmer driving a plough; it made its appeal to me. And though a million miles away from my very urban, modern existence, Jesus spoke to me about the 21st Century yokes I wear everyday that are burdensome and ill-fitting. So normalised - too often they determine my direction and pace, more than Jesus does. And though I fight and kick against them, I’m still subject to them. These yokes are oppressive, controlling. They claim my energy. Trying to meet their demands and follow Jesus just doesn’t work. I think: ‘I’ve got this’, but actually I’m torn - compromised: “No one can serve two masters.”
We can be yoked to ideas that are coded into culture, social groups, belief systems, workplaces, institutions - established over generations, filtering down into families and relationships - to sit heavy on our shoulders. We may not query them but we feel them. The drive to be productive and useful, to pursue a particular path because it’s expected of us.
The compulsion to climb the career-ladder, to chase the next promotion; because we’re a failure if we don’t.
The compulsion to climb the career-ladder, to chase the next promotion; because we’re a failure if we don’t. The fear that demands we say ‘yes’, or just quietly appease those around us. We maintain the status quo - cautioned to ‘know our place’ and not get ‘above our station’. The pressure to contort ourselves and accommodate demands on our time and energy, standards we hold ourselves to, and roles we occupy - ‘good daughter’, ‘reliable employee’, ‘perfect mother’. While many of these are worthwhile, they can feel oppressive, lorded over us; there is no option but to serve them.
READ MORE: Do Christians glorify busyness instead of rest?
But Jesus “breaks the yoke” of oppression. And if we will take on his easy yoke, and yield to him, he will direct us to those who need us while also providing for them, he will nudge and guide us to the right opportunities, making a way for us. We’ll find rest because his yoke fits us perfectly, it’s made for us. He doesn’t demand - he is gentle and humble, caring for us. He leads us with kindness - giving us his grace. What a relief. Under his yoke we come alive, energised to become fully ourselves. And more than that, we can lean into what he has for us with joy and focus, without hesitation or fear that we’ll miss something else.
I’m not advocating that everyone takes a sabbatical. But I hope we readily respond when Jesus makes his appeal to us, saying: “Come to me”. And that we discover his yoke - made for us, in order to live from a deep sense of rest, all year round.
1 Reader's comment