There was a morning when I woke up not feeling well.
In other seasons of my life, that wouldn’t have changed the day ahead. I would have pushed through. When my kids were home, there was no one else to carry the schedule. When I worked outside the home, I rarely called in sick.
There were real needs. Real responsibility. Slowing down wasn’t always available.
But this time, something had shifted.
I looked at my day, including a meeting I was scheduled to lead, and I knew I would not show up as well as I wanted to. I could have powered through. I had done that many times before.
Instead, I canceled. I rested. And what caught my attention wasn’t just the relief.
It was the absence of guilt.
The Part We Don’t Talk About
For most of my life, I have been the one who takes care of others. From childhood into marriage and motherhood, I learned to carry what needed carrying. Even as I grew spiritually and as I learned that my worth is not tied to performance, my body still operated like everything depended on me.
That’s the part we don’t talk about.
Sometimes the mind understands the lesson. Sometimes the heart believes it. But the body hasn’t caught up yet.
In the past, when I struggled to live out what I already “knew,” I would turn on myself: When am I going to get this right? Why does this still feel hard?
But growth doesn’t rush the nervous system. It gently retrains it.
When I allowed myself to rest without over-explaining, without waiting for everything else to be secured — something settled. Relief washed in. Gratitude followed. I even felt love.
I felt taken care of. Not because someone else stepped in, but because I honored what my body needed.
How Spiritual Growth Rewires the Body
Spiritual growth often reaches the mind first. Then the heart. And eventually, with practice and permission, it settles into our bones.
When it does, we move differently. We stop overriding ourselves. We stop forcing strength. We begin living from alignment instead of pressure.
Something shifts when we choose alignment even once. The next time doesn’t feel as impossible. Not because growth was forced, but because the body remembers another option.
Each time we act in alignment with what we believe, we teach our nervous system that it is safe. Safe to rest. Safe to pause. Safe to trust that we can set something down and it will still be there.
That’s how spiritual growth becomes embodied.
Scripture says,
“He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake.” ~ Psalm 23:2–3 (NIV)
Sometimes restoration begins with allowing ourselves to lie down.
And sometimes when the body catches up to spiritual growth, lying down no longer feels like failure. It feels like trust.
Journaling Reflection
Where might your body still be catching up to what you already know is true?
What would it look like to gently teach your body — through action — the lesson your spirit has already learned?
