Come away a while
Jesus, to exhausted disciples
The disciples had just returned from a demanding mission, buzzing with stories of all they had done and taught, and the crowds were so relentless that, Mark notes, they had no leisure even to eat. It was the kind of fruitful, exhausting busyness that feels too important to interrupt — exactly the kind we tell ourselves we cannot afford to step away from.
And Jesus, reading the exhaustion behind their excitement, says something the productive part of us resists hearing: Come away by yourselves to a deserted place, and rest a while. Not push through. Not the work is too urgent to pause. Come away. He pulls them out of the crowd, away from the very ministry that was going so well, into solitude and rest.
Notice that the solitude is not a reward for finished work — the crowds were still coming, the needs were still pressing, the work was not done. Jesus calls them away in the middle of it, because he knows that a soul which never withdraws will eventually have nothing left to give. The deserted place is not where we go when the work is finished. It is what keeps us human while the work goes on.
“You come apart into a desert place, and rest awhile.”
— Jesus, to his disciples — Mark 6:31 (WEB)
Hear Jesus call you away from even fruitful busyness into a deserted place to rest — solitude that keeps you human while the work goes on.
“He makes me to lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters.”
We tell ourselves the busyness is too important to interrupt, and the most fruitful work is the hardest to step away from — yet a soul that never withdraws eventually has nothing left to give. The interior work is to obey Jesus' call to come away in the middle of the work, not only when it is finished, and to let the Shepherd make us lie down when we will not rest ourselves.
This week, schedule a deliberate withdrawal — an hour, an afternoon, a quiet morning — away from even good and needed work, into solitude and rest. Guard it as obedience, not indulgence, and do not wait until the work is done.
There is a busyness so fruitful and so needed that it feels impious to interrupt — and it is exactly the kind that burns a worker down to ash, however good the fire. But the deserted place restores the humanity the labor was wearing thin, and the Shepherd who makes us lie down is not stealing the work but saving the worker.
There is a busyness that feels too important to interrupt — fruitful, needed, even spiritual — and it is precisely the kind Jesus interrupts. He calls his most effective workers away from their effectiveness, into a deserted place, not because the crowds stopped mattering but because the workers did. A life with no withdrawal eventually burns down to ash, however good the fire.
Notice, too, that the Shepherd makes us lie down. Sometimes we will not come away willingly, and love has to insist on the rest we keep refusing ourselves. Solitude is not selfishness or laziness; it is obedience to a Lord who knows we are dust and leads us, deliberately, beside still waters. Hear him say it to you, in the middle of your own relentless and worthy work: come away by yourself, and rest a while.
- What fruitful busyness do I treat as too important to interrupt?
- Do I wait until the work is done to rest, when it never is?
- Where is the Shepherd trying to make me lie down?
Lord, my busyness feels too important to pause, even as it wears me to nothing. You call me away to a deserted place to rest. Make me lie down in green pastures, lead me beside still waters, and keep me human while the work goes on. Amen.