We live in a world that glorifies busyness. Our worth is often measured by how much we produce, how quickly we respond, and how well we keep pace with the relentless race of modern life. To rest, to pause, or to do something simply because it brings joy can feel almost rebellious. Yet perhaps this is exactly what God intended for us—to experience the fullness of life not through endless striving, but through presence, wonder, and trust.
Doing “nothing” is not really nothing at all. When we step away from schedules, deadlines, and expectations, we open ourselves to a deeper rhythm: the rhythm of God’s timing. We begin to notice the quiet beauty around us, the small miracles in nature, and the stirrings of our own soul. Intuition—often dismissed as whim or coincidence—is one of the purest ways God speaks. It is that nudge to pause, to listen, to wander, to delight, without needing to justify it to anyone.
Yet many of us feel guilt in these moments. Guilt for resting when others are working. Guilt for choosing joy when the world feels heavy. Guilt for slowing down when society insists faster is better. But guilt, when we examine it, is not divine judgment. It is societal conditioning. True guilt arises when we have harmed others or violated our conscience. The guilt we feel for resting is something different—it’s the pressure of a culture that confuses productivity with purpose.
God did not design us to be machines. He designed us to be creators, lovers, seekers, and vessels of joy. By resting, by following curiosity, by allowing ourselves to be led by intuition, we align with His plan in ways logic alone cannot explain. The most meaningful experiences are often the ones that carry no tangible outcome: laughter shared with a friend, awe at a sunset, the peace of sitting in stillness. These moments are not wasted—they are holy.
To live this way requires trust. Trust that God is guiding us even when we cannot see the destination. Trust that our worth is not tied to constant achievement. Trust that rest, wonder, and love are not luxuries, but essential to the soul.
Perhaps the most revolutionary act we can commit in today’s world is to stop striving long enough to hear God’s voice within us. To honor the intuition He placed in our hearts. To allow joy, love, and awe to be reasons enough. For it is often in the so-called “meaningless” moments that we encounter the deepest meaning of all: the presence of God.
