Even Jesus Brought a Cushion: Rethinking Rest and the Lie of Laziness

There’s a strange tension that exists for so many women—especially those of us who are mothers, helpers, believers, and high-capacity humans. We want to honor God, show up well for the people we love, and steward our time and energy faithfully. But somewhere along the way, we started confusing exhaustion with obedience—and rest with selfishness.

I see it in therapy sessions all the time. Clients show up burned out, overwhelmed, and ashamed to admit that they’re not okay. They’ll say things like, “I feel lazy. I should be able to handle more.” But beneath that shame is something deeper: grief, over-responsibility, attachment wounds, chronic stress, trauma. Not laziness—just humanity.

As a wife, mom of three (including twins and a child with special needs), trauma therapist and group practice owner, I know this tension firsthand. And as a woman of faith, I’ve wrestled with it spiritually, too.

But Scripture offers a radically different message. It reminds us that:

Jesus rested.

God designed Sabbath.

Boundaries are biblical.

And rest isn’t selfish—it’s sacred.

Jesus Napped. On Purpose.

In one of the most iconic moments in the Gospels, Jesus is asleep in a boat during a violent storm (Mark 4:38). The disciples are panicking. The waves are crashing. And Jesus? He’s sleeping on a cushion.

Yes, a cushion. In a fisherman’s boat. There weren’t cushions just lying around. Jesus brought one.

Shoutout to my pastor for pointing this out—because it really helped me understand. Jesus didn’t nap accidentally. He planned to rest.

Why? Because He already knew the outcome. He didn’t need faith—He was faith. He could rest because He wasn’t ruled by fear. The storm didn’t scare Him, because He knew who He was and where the story was going.

But the disciples? They needed faith in order to rest. Just like we do.

The Lie: “Self-Care Is Selfish”

Somewhere along the way, we picked up a version of faith that equates constant sacrifice with holiness—and sees rest as weakness. But Jesus never called us to burnout. He said, “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).

Mark 12:31 tells us to love our neighbors as ourselves. But what happens when we don’t love ourselves well? When we guilt ourselves into saying yes, when we shame ourselves for needing rest, when we ignore our limits in the name of faithfulness?

This isn’t righteousness. It’s people-pleasing dressed up in spiritual language.

And the truth is—what we often label as “lazy” is anything but. As the book How to Keep House While Drowning reminds us: laziness doesn’t exist. What we call laziness is often trauma, grief, overstimulation, chronic stress, ADHD, hormonal shifts, or plain-old depletion.

What It Really Costs Us

When we neglect rest, it shows up somewhere.

In our bodies: fatigue, tension, headaches.

In our homes: snappiness, resentment, disconnection.

In our spirit: distance from God, numbness, burnout masked as busyness.

Even Moses hit his limit (Exodus 18), and his father-in-law had to step in and say, “This isn’t good... You’ll wear yourself out.” Even Jesus withdrew regularly to rest and pray (Mark 6:31).

We were never meant to carry it all, all the time.

Real-Life Sacred Self-Care

Self-care doesn’t have to be complicated. It’s not about indulgence. It’s about margin. Boundaries. Trust. Stewardship. It’s a declaration, one I’ve heard my dad say many times: God is God, and I am not.

This type of self-care might look like:

• Saying no without apology

• Going to bed before the kitchen is clean

• Asking for help without shame

• Letting go of perfection to stay present

It’s not selfish to rest. It’s faithful.

A Note from a Therapist Who Gets It

If you’re reading this and you’re tired—soul-tired, not just sleepy—please remember these things today:

You are not lazy.

You are not weak.

You are not selfish for needing rest.

You are allowed to stop.

You are allowed to care for yourself as someone deeply loved by God.

May you lie down in green pastures without guilt.

May you find Jesus already resting in the boat—cushion and all.

And may you remember:

Rest isn’t what you do when the work is done.

Rest is what you do because you are already held.

- Hayley Seidel, LPC