I’m a spiritual director, a former pastor, and a life and leadership coach.
I should know better.
But knowing better doesn’t always mean doing better. Especially when it comes to yourself.
When people would ask me how my pace of life was, I would joke that the great thing about being a coach and spiritual director is that I have to keep my life in order. Otherwise, how could I be a good coach/director for others?
How many doctors have said the same thing about their health? Or pastors about their spiritual lives? Only to find themselves preaching but not practicing.
So, this summer, this coach found herself with a life out of whack. Running at an unhealthy pace, feeling unable to say no to things. In a go mood that had lost its stop switch.
My heart was continually racing. My sleep was interrupted. My thoughts were in constant motion, whirling around like a tornado about to lift me off the ground.
And to top it all off, I was in active denial.
When my husband and mother each lovingly confronted me and said they were concerned about me, I did listen. I reached out to a coach and talked it through with her. However, at the end of the call, I had made no progress toward letting anything go.
She asked me, “Can I be honest with you?” I replied, “Of course!” She paused and said, “It feels like you don’t really want to let anything go. You’re not even open to letting anything go.”
Uff. I had to admit to her that she was right.
So, where do I go from here? I thought.
Thankfully, right around this time, my friend and mentor, Cheryl Scanlan, was offering a four-week class for all of us who had gone through the Promised Land Living group discipleship course that I had taken a few years previously.
The first time I took it, I had found it to be utterly transformational, as had the other seven women in our group. I had signed up for the course at a very raw time in life, still freshly in the midst of an unexpected transition off the mission field with my family. Though we have been back for a year and a half already, I was still struggling significantly.
Some deeply painful damage had been done by a few key people in my life that had caused me to doubt myself and question who and how God had made me to be. I entered the group feeling timid and confused. But I left the group feeling joyful, empowered, and free. What a difference!
I threw myself into life with this newfound joyful freedom, and relished the opportunities that lay before me. I lived into the truth of who God had made me to be, and doors began to open, and I was flourishing. Thank God! After the long desert season, spring had never smelled so sweet!
But I had forgotten a lesson I learned once long ago. Not all doors are meant to be walked through, no matter how beautiful they seem.
And bit by bit, I continued to add more and more to my life. More yeses, more jobs, more clients, more certifications, more courses… more of it all.
If I just kept moving, I almost didn’t notice how crazy the pace of life had become. But the pauses and the stillness, which have always been trademark parts of me that I have relished, suddenly began to lose their flavor.
Silence became scary. Scary because that’s when the voice inside my head got extra loud, berating me for all of the things I had not gotten done. All of the things still yet to do. And all of the places I had wanted to be at, but have not reached yet.
My demands upon myself became ridiculous. The more I achieved, the farther behind I felt.
So when I entered PLL this time, I realized I was no longer living in joyful freedom, but in frenetic bondage to a workaholic lifestyle.
My confidence in God had turned into a confidence in myself. But actually, I had no confidence in myself, so where did that leave me?
It left me right where God needed me to be. Desperately in need of Him.
The way of rest is not a lifestyle of relaxation. It’s not even simply sabbath keeping or having a quiet devotional time in the morning.
It’s an attitude of the heart. It’s total trust in God.
The Lord actually tells us that rest and trust go hand in hand:
“In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength…” (Isaiah 30:15)
The way I live my life reveals how much I trust in God. If I have slipped away from stillness and slid into being unstoppable, Lord, please stop me.
If I trust in myself, I will never dare to pause. I will never put down the pen or turn off the computer or be able to quiet my mind, because I will never be enough.
If I trust in God, I will also know that I can never possibly be enough, but I will be OK with that. Because God will be enough, and that will be enough.
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28)
When I live out of God’s rest, I will live like an abandoned and orphaned child, convinced I need to provide for myself, scrapping and hustling out of survival. Taking advantage of every opportunity, because who knows if there will be another one.
But when I live in God‘s way of rest, I live like the beloved child of God that I actually am. Not trying to earn love or anything else, but from a place of love.
I do and I act and I work because God has created me to do so. And I can stop and rest, because that’s what my Father has taught me to do. When I say no to open doors that are not aligned with my values or that are more than I should take on, I am not afraid.
Because I have a Father who provides for me. Even in moments where it seems like I won’t have enough—even in moments of sickness or scarcity or confusion—I know that I am not alone and that my story is not over.
I’m finally learning what it means to stop building a life in my own strength. Because: “Unless the Lord builds the house, the builders labor in vain…” (Psalm 127:1)
I can do what He’s asked me to do—and then stop. Because He is the Builder, not me.
When I took the PLL course again, this time around, the words God gave me were fresh for this season.
Peaceful intimacy.
Yes, that was it. Just what I was missing and had lost in my pursuit of, well… everything.
I need not just a slower pace, but a quieter soul.
Peaceful intimacy isn’t something I can manufacture. It only comes when I stop trying so hard to make everything work and start trusting the One who holds it all.
And bit by bit, I’m rediscovering what was lost. Loosening what was clenched. And allowing myself to breathe again.
It doesn’t always look like long hours of quiet or perfect boundaries. Sometimes it’s just a few moments of stillness in a full day. A deep breath where I remember I’m not alone. An honest prayer that helps me come back to center. A verse to cling to and ground me when my thoughts are scattered.
I’m still learning. I still catch myself picking up more than I should. But I’m quicker now to notice. Quicker to let go. Quicker to return to rest. I’ve even closed some doors and said no to entering others, shiny and wide though they may be.
Maybe you need that too. A reminder that God’s way of rest is available to you today.
If you’re tired, if your soul feels stretched, if you’ve been in constant motion, this is your invitation.
You don’t have to earn your way into God’s rest. You just have to say yes to it.
I recorded this episode below with Cheryl when I was at the peak of my pause-less pace. In it, you can watch her take me through the seven-step shift and actually do the shift right alongside me. We ask you the questions and I show you how using my very real life story.
To take this a step further, I personally invite you to sign up for group discipleship coaching through taking a Promised Land Living course. There are groups for men, women, couples, and ones just for global workers and missionaries, led by other missionaries who get you. Missionary groups are private, so reach out to them directly on the website to find out when the next one is. Take your first step toward the way of rest today.
Stephanie Leigh Gutierrez is the missionary care manager at Modern Day Missions and the host of the Modern Day Missionaries podcast. She is a life and leadership coach and spiritual director, and is a former missionary and pastor who served for 12 years in Peru. Stephanie and her husband are marriage speakers and co-founders of Footrock, a nonprofit organization that hosts retreats for Spanish-speaking pastors and missionaries.
