The Myth of the Lazy Day

Do lazy days make you feel rested or unproductive?

Let’s be honest. When was the last time you had a truly lazy day? And by lazy, I don’t mean binge-watching a K-drama while folding laundry, or listening to BTS while replying to emails “just to get ahead.” I mean absolutely nothing. No multitasking, no productivity disguised as rest, no background guilt humming beneath your favorite blanket. For most of us, that kind of day feels as rare as a solar eclipse—and honestly, just as hard to schedule.

I’ve realized that my so-called “lazy days” aren’t really lazy at all. They’re what I like to call “productive pauses.” Somewhere between self-care and subtle hustle, I’ll tell myself I’m resting… but five minutes later, I’m wiping down the counter, reorganizing a drawer, or folding that basket of laundry I swore could wait. It’s almost like my body doesn’t know how to stop.

The irony? By the end of those days, I’m not actually rested. I’m just tired in a different way.

And that’s when the Spirit whispers: “Be still, and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10)

Stillness isn’t laziness. It’s a form of worship, a quiet surrender of our constant need to do, fix, and perform. True rest is about releasing control and remembering Who’s really holding everything together. Spoiler alert: it’s not me.

The Lie of “Earned” Rest

Somewhere along the way, we learned that rest must be earned. That it comes as a reward after a long week or a checked-off list. But Jesus said, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28) Notice He didn’t say, “After you’ve finished your to-do list.” He said come. Right now. As you are. Even with the half-folded laundry and the unfinished projects. Sometimes I forget that my mind and soul need the same reboot I give my phone.

Why We Resist Doing Nothing

Rest feels foreign because our culture glamorizes hustle. We post about being busy like it’s a badge of honor, and rest feels like weakness. But as poet David Whyte reminds us, “Rest is the conversation between what we love to do and how we love to be.” Rest recalibrates us—it’s how we listen inwardly to what’s really going on beneath all our activity.

Even God modeled this for us. After creating the universe, He rested. Not because He was tired, but because He was satisfied. Genesis 2:2 says, “On the seventh day God had finished His work of creation, so He rested from all His work.” Rest wasn’t an afterthought; it was part of the divine rhythm.

Maybe we’ve got it backwards. Maybe “lazy” days aren’t the problem, maybe our definition of rest is.

Soul Insights

1. Rest is not a reward; it’s a requirement.

True rest isn’t about deserving a break. It’s about acknowledging that we’re human, not machines. When I delay rest until everything is done, I’m saying my worth depends on my output. But when I rest first, I’m declaring that I trust God to fill in the gaps. Sabbath isn’t selfish; it’s sacred oxygen for the soul.

2. Doing nothing is an act of faith.

For a chronic doer, stillness feels uncomfortable. But sitting still is sometimes the most radical way to say, “God, I trust You.” It’s a way of letting my heart recalibrate and my spirit breathe again. As author John Mark Comer said, “If you want to experience the life of Jesus, you have to adopt the lifestyle of Jesus.” That includes rest.

3. Productivity without peace is just performance.

When I multitask my way through “rest,” I may be crossing off chores, but I’m missing out on peace. The soul doesn’t recharge through efficiency; it recharges through presence. Rest without peace is like sleep without dreams, technically functional but emotionally flat.

4. Rest reveals what we’ve been running from.

Sometimes when I finally stop, the emotions I’ve been avoiding surface: grief, frustration, or fatigue I didn’t even know I was carrying. And that’s okay. God uses rest to heal what busyness hides. The stillness creates space for truth to rise to the surface, where He can meet it with grace.

5. Rest restores more than energy; it restores identity.

When I let go of doing, I rediscover being. I’m reminded that before I was a writer, a friend, a worker, or an ARMY, I was a beloved child of God. My value doesn’t come from my productivity; it comes from His presence. And that realization is worth more than any completed checklist.

Final Thoughts

So no, my lazy days don’t really make me feel lazy—because I’ve redefined them. They’re not about doing nothing; they’re about doing what matters most: resting, recharging, and remembering who I am apart from what I do.

Maybe the invitation isn’t to schedule a “lazy day,” but to honor a rest day. A day to stop performing, stop producing, and simply exist in the peace that doesn’t need permission.

After all, as C.S. Lewis once wrote, “You can’t get a cup of tea big enough or a book long enough to suit me.” That’s the kind of restful life I want, one steeped in joy, simplicity, and God’s quiet presence.

Your Turn

This week, try reclaiming one day—not for productivity, but for peace. Put your phone on “Do Not Disturb.” Let the laundry wait. Sit with your thoughts, your tea, and your God. Let your heart be still enough to hear what’s been waiting to be said.

Because in the stillness, you’ll discover that rest isn’t lazy. It’s holy.

Soul Path Insights