Pastors Take Time to Rest and Heal
“It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for he gives to his beloved sleep” (Ps. 127:2).
One of the greatest misconceptions in ministry is that faithfulness is measured by perpetual exhaustion. Many of us have quietly accepted fatigue as the cost of obedience, believing that the more depleted we become, the more devoted we must be. Scripture paints a very different picture. This has been my season, but it is one I now need to leave behind. The God who calls us to labor faithfully is also the God who commands us to rest. He who formed our bodies knows both their strengths and their limitations better than we do, and He has never asked His servants to ignore them, even if we have often asked that of ourselves. Sleep itself is one of the Lord’s gifts to His beloved, not as an interruption to faithful ministry but one of the means by which He renews His servants for it.
From the opening chapters of Genesis, the rhythm of work and rest is woven into creation itself. After six days of creation, God rested on the seventh day, not because He was weary, but because He established a holy pattern for humanity (Gen. 2:2–3). The Sabbath command was never intended to be a burden; it was a gift to freed slaves. The Lord declared, “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy” (Ex. 20:8–11), and later reminded Israel, “Six days work may be done, but on the seventh day there is a Sabbath of complete rest” (Ex. 31:15). Even the land itself was commanded to rest every seventh year (Lev. 25:4), demonstrating that God’s economy includes seasons of renewal for all He has created.
The wisdom literature reinforces this truth. Solomon reminds us that “for everything there is a season” (Eccl. 3:1). Among those appointed seasons is “a time to heal” (Eccl. 3:3), carrying the picture of mending. Healing requires more than prayer alone. It often requires time, wise stewardship, and the humility to acknowledge that our bodies cannot indefinitely sustain relentless demands. We cannot expect the body to recover if we never permit it to do so.
Our Lord Jesus Himself modeled this balance. After seasons of intense ministry, He withdrew to lonely places to pray (Lk. 5:16). When the apostles returned exhausted from their labors, He did not immediately send them back into the crowds. Instead, He lovingly invited them, “Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while.’ For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat” (Mk. 6:31). The Messiah understood that those who continually pour themselves out must also be renewed. Likewise, the writer of Hebrews reminds us that “there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God” (Heb. 4:9), a rest that points not only to our eternal hope but also reflects God’s gracious pattern for our lives today. Biblical rest is not the abandonment of responsibility; it is the wise stewardship of our strength so that we may fulfill our responsibilities faithfully for the long haul.
The Lord dealt similarly with Elijah after his great victory on Mount Carmel. Worn down physically, emotionally, and spiritually, Elijah fled into the wilderness. Before the Lord spoke to him in the still, small voice or recommissioned him for further ministry, He first gave His servant sleep, food, water, and rest (1 Kgs. 19:5–8). Sometimes the Lord’s first answer to an exhausted servant is not another assignment, but restoration.
The Psalms also speak to the restorative heart of God. “He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside quiet waters. He restores my soul” (Ps. 23:2–3). Notice that the Shepherd does not always drive His sheep onward. He leads them into places of nourishment, quietness, and restoration. A shepherd who never allows his flock to rest will soon find them weakened and vulnerable. The same is true for those entrusted with shepherding the Lord’s people.
Over the past several months, these biblical truths have become deeply personal for me. For the past four years, I have managed Graves’ disease while also recovering from two total knee replacements. Despite exercising regularly and maintaining a healthy diet, I have continued to battle chronic fatigue and stubborn excess weight. When I began carefully reviewing my sleep metrics, I discovered that I was averaging only about thirty minutes of restorative deep sleep each night, far below the healthy range of sixty to ninety minutes. That realization forced me to confront an uncomfortable truth. I had developed over many years an unhealthy pattern of working into the late hours, rising at irregular times to answer texts and emails, and continually asking more of my body than it could faithfully provide while remaining healthy. And then, my body began to break down when it seemed, from all outer appearances, that I was in peak health. I had become diligent in shepherding others while failing to adequately shepherd my own health.
The Lord has graciously reminded me that recovery is not found in working harder, nor even simply in working less, but in working wisely according to the counsel of His Word. Healing requires margin. It requires rest. It requires rhythms that honor the Lord’s design. My body and mind need the space to recover from years of accumulated strain, and that recovery is itself an act of faithful stewardship. We often find it easier to minister to others than to allow others to minister to us. Yet humility includes receiving the care that the Lord provides through family, trusted friends, physicians, and the prayers of the brethren.
As ministers, we often preach that our bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit (1 Cor. 6:19–20), yet we sometimes treat our own bodies as though they were inexhaustible and disposable resources. We would quickly counsel a member of our congregation to care for their health, seek appropriate medical care, and establish healthy boundaries. We must also be willing to receive that same counsel ourselves. Stewardship includes the stewardship of our own bodies, minds, and spirits. The body the Lord has entrusted to us is not ours to abuse in the name of ministry, but to care for in the service of ministry.
This is why I have begun making intentional changes to my schedule, my work patterns, and my personal boundaries. These changes are not a retreat from ministry; they are an investment in its longevity. My desire is to serve Christ, His people, the congregation I am entrusted with, and Restoration Fellowship International faithfully for many years to come. That requires leading not only by preaching biblical truth but also by practicing it.
To my fellow pastors and ministry leaders, hear this encouragement from one who is learning these lessons afresh, and, admittedly, the hard way: take the time to rest. Take the time to heal. Do not mistake constant exhaustion for faithfulness. The Lord has appointed seasons of labor, but He has also appointed seasons of restoration. If Ecclesiastes tells us there is “a time to heal,” then we dishonor neither our calling nor our Lord by embracing that season when it comes. Let’s be transparent, many of us work beyond healthy limits because, deep down, we fear what will happen if we stop. Yet the Kingdom of God has only one Savior, and it is not us. Rest becomes an act of faith. It is our confession that the Lord continues to build His Church even while His servants sleep.
The people we serve need healthy shepherds as much as they need faithful shepherds, for the two were never intended to be separated. And by His grace, those should never be at odds with one another. May we model the whole counsel of God, not only in our preaching, but also in the wise stewardship of the lives He has entrusted to us. As we rest in Him, may He restore our souls, strengthen our bodies, renew our minds, and equip us to serve His people with endurance, joy, and faithfulness until He calls us home.
In the service of Messiah and His Church,
Bishop Justin D. Elwell
Restoration Fellowship International
