There was a season when faith felt heavy.
Not because belief was gone, but because I had learned to carry it the wrong way by measuring, striving, performing, and trying to be “enough.” Somewhere along the journey, following Jesus slowly became about keeping up rather than staying close.
Then I encountered these words again, not as instruction, but as invitation:
“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.”
Matthew 11:28–30
In The Message translation, this invitation is described with a phrase that stopped me in my tracks:
“Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.”
Not rhythm—rhythms, plural.
Grace does not move at a single speed. It has seasons, pauses, and returns. There are moments to labor and moments to rest, moments to speak and moments to stay silent. God does not rush us through these movements; He teaches us how to walk with Him.
One of the clearest rhythms God has been teaching our family is to slow down.
This instruction came at a time when much of church culture was moving in the opposite direction toward acceleration. Faster growth. Bigger reach. Clearer metrics. Financial blessing often presented as evidence that God is at work in you.
Success became something to admire, sometimes even to worship.
But slowing down revealed something uncomfortable: not every form of acceleration is obedience. Not every visible blessing is a sign of spiritual health. And not every “open door” is one God is asking us to run through.
God’s voice to us was not do more, but be still.
Not build faster, but walk faithfully.
Not prove fruit, but stay rooted.
Slowing down is not laziness or lack of faith. It is resistance to the idea that worth is measured by output, that calling is proven by success, or that God’s favor is best displayed through financial gain or visible achievement.
Jesus’ invitation is not to carry a lighter burden alone, but to walk beside Him matching His pace. A yoke is shared movement. It requires humility to let someone else set the rhythm.
Learning the unforced rhythms of grace has reshaped how we live, create, and believe. Art has become a place of listening rather than proving. Parenting has become more about presence than performance. Faith has become less about outcomes and more about obedience.
Unforced rhythms do not mean passive living.
They mean intentional slowing.
They mean choosing depth over speed, faithfulness over frenzy, and grace over performance.
In a world that celebrates urgency and visible success, slowing down becomes an act of trust. To rest is to say, God, I believe You are still at work even when I am not producing anything impressive.
This is the rhythm we are learning again and again.
Not perfectly. Not consistently. But honestly.
To come when we are weary.
To walk when we feel unsure.
To create without forcing outcomes.
To believe that God’s gentleness is not weakness, but strength.
The invitation still stands.
Come.
Learn.
Slow down.
And discover, over time, the unforced rhythms of grace.