When Jesus Said No to Ministry: Why Rest FROM Your Work Matters Most
It’s December 23rd. The kids are out of school, their energy bouncing off the walls. Family is coming tomorrow. Your church has added an extra Christmas Eve service. The house needs cleaning. Cookies need baking. And there it is—that familiar pull. Your content calendar. Your creative projects. That book you’ve been working on. The ideas that won’t stop coming.
You sit down with your laptop “just to check” something. An hour disappears. You feel the tension rising—you should be wrapping presents, not writing posts. But you also feel guilty for NOT creating. Everyone else seems to be posting holiday content. Your favorite creators are still showing up. Shouldn’t you be too?
So you close the laptop, frustrated. Then you open it again. Close it. Open it. The guilt cycle spins: Feel guilty for not creating, then feel guilty for wanting to create instead of being present with your family.
What if I told you the most productive thing you could do this season is... nothing?
What if the real work—the sacred work—isn’t creating content or building your platform or staying “consistent” with your audience? What if the real work is simply being present? What if rest isn’t something you earn after working hard enough, but something you protect your work from interfering with?
And what if Jesus Himself showed us exactly how to do this?
When Jesus Said No to Ministry Demands
Let me take you to a moment in Jesus’ ministry that changed how I think about boundaries, rest, and what actually matters.
Mark 1:35-38 sets the scene: “Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where He prayed. Simon and His companions went to look for Him, and when they found Him, they exclaimed: ‘Everyone is looking for you!’ Jesus replied, ‘Let us go somewhere else—to the nearby villages—so I can preach there also. That is why I have come.’”
Read that again. The disciples find Jesus and essentially say, “There’s important work to do! People need you! Everyone is looking for you!”
These weren’t people wanting autographs. These were sick people needing healing. Demon-possessed people needing deliverance. People with legitimate, urgent needs. This was MINISTRY. This was the work Jesus came to do.
And Jesus said... “Let’s go somewhere else.”
He didn’t rush back to meet the demands. He didn’t apologize for taking time alone. He didn’t let the urgent needs of the crowd override the rhythm He’d established with His Father. He essentially said, “Not right now. There’s a time and place for this work, and this isn’t it.”
If that doesn’t give you permission to close your laptop during the holidays, I don’t know what will.
Here’s what this passage reveals that we so desperately need to hear:
Even JESUS set boundaries around ministry work. Not secular work. Not “worldly” pursuits. MINISTRY. The work he came to earth to do. If the Son of God could say “not right now” to kingdom work, you can say “not right now” to your content calendar.
The urgent doesn’t always equal the important. Those people really did need Jesus. Their needs were legitimate. But Jesus understood something profound: maintaining his rhythm with the Father was MORE important than responding to every demand, even good demands, even ministry demands.
Rhythm with the Father trumps response to the crowd’s needs. Jesus wasn’t being cold or uncaring. He was protecting something sacred—His connection with the Father, His sense of mission, His understanding of timing and season. He knew that if He let the crowd’s demands dictate His schedule, He would lose the very thing that made His ministry effective.
Good work will always be there; the sacred moment won’t. There would be other opportunities to heal, to teach, to minister. But that morning, in the quiet, in prayer with His Father—that was the irreplaceable moment. That was what couldn’t be recreated later.
Here’s the application bridge for us: If Jesus could say “not right now” to people who literally needed healing, you can say “not right now” to your content calendar. You can say “not right now” to building your platform. You can say “not right now” to being consistent and showing up and all the other things we’ve been told make us “successful.”
Because sometimes the most faithful thing you can do is protect the sacred moment from the demands of good work.
God’s Model: Separation Creates Space for Life
But this isn’t just a New Testament principle. This rhythm of boundaries and rest goes all the way back to creation itself.
Genesis 1:6-8 tells us: “And God said, ‘Let there be a vault between the waters to separate water from water.’ So God made the vault and separated the water under the vault from the water above it. And it was so.”
This is Day 2 of creation, and it’s fascinating what God does here. He doesn’t create by adding more and more and more. He creates by SEPARATING. By making boundaries. By establishing limits.
Before this separation, there was just water—chaos, formlessness, everything mixed together. But God’s creative act was to say, “This water here, that water there. There will be space between them.”
And that space—that boundary—is what made room for life to flourish.
Think about what this means. God didn’t look at the formless waters and say, “Let me add more.” He said, “Let me create distinction. Let me establish boundaries.” The boundary itself was the creative act. The separation was what allowed for the sky, for the atmosphere, for the space where birds would eventually fly and where rain would eventually fall to nourish the earth.
Boundaries aren’t walls that restrict—they’re containers that protect.
Without the separation of the waters, there would have been chaos, not creation. Everything would have remained mixed together, undifferentiated, unable to fulfill its purpose. The boundary was what gave each thing the space to be what God designed it to be.
Here’s how this applies to our holiday season:
When you separate your work time from your family time—when you create that boundary—you’re not being restrictive. You’re creating the space where BOTH can thrive. Your work will be better for having boundaries around it. Your rest will be deeper for being protected from work’s intrusion.
Without boundaries, everything bleeds together. Work seeps into family time. Family obligations intrude on creative time. Nothing feels sacred because nothing is set apart. You’re never fully present anywhere because you’re trying to be everywhere at once.
The separation IS the sacred act.
When God separated the waters, he was establishing a pattern for all of creation: things flourish when they have the space to be what they were designed to be, in their proper time and season. Your creative work needs its season. Your rest needs its season. Your family time needs its season. And when you try to collapse all seasons into one constant blur of productivity, you’re working against the very pattern God established.
This is the theological foundation we need to grasp: Rest and boundaries aren’t “nice to have” additions to a productive life. They’re woven into the fabric of creation itself. They’re not luxuries—they’re necessities. They’re not something you earn after working hard enough—they’re essential to the pattern of life God designed.
The Waters Retreat in our Genesis framework isn’t about retreating FROM life. It’s about creating the boundaries that allow life to flourish in all its fullness.
My Story: Scheduling Margin Into the Holidays
Let me get practical and share how I actually navigate this in my own life as a stay-at-home mom of three boys, running a publishing business, and digital ministry.
Here’s my approach: I schedule my content in advance, specifically so I don’t have to create during holidays.
This isn’t perfectionism. This isn’t me being super organized (trust me, my AuDHD brain doesn’t naturally work that way). This is me recognizing that if I don’t create the boundary ahead of time, it won’t exist when I need it.
In November, I batch my December content. I write my Wednesday deep dives. I draft my Sunday Sabbath devotionals. I schedule social media posts if I’m going to post at all (and often, I don’t). Everything that can be done ahead is done ahead.
Why? Because I know myself. I know that if I leave it for “during the holidays,” I’ll be sitting at my laptop on December 27th while my boys play in the other room, feeling torn between being with them and “staying consistent” with my content schedule.
But here’s the deeper principle I use: the “best yes” filter.
I don’t just ask myself, “Can I fit this in?” I ask, “Will this add to or detract from my family’s rest?”
When opportunities come up in December—a podcast interview, a collaborative project, a “quick” client call—I run them through this filter. Not “Do I have time?” but “Does this serve my family and our time together?”
Most of the time, the answer is no. And that’s okay. That no protects the yes that matters most.
Here’s what this looks like practically in my December:
Content is batched and scheduled before December hits. My subscribers don’t know the difference between something I wrote in November and scheduled for December versus something I wrote that morning. The value to them is the same. But the difference to my family is everything.
Social media is scheduled or skipped entirely. Some years, I schedule a few holiday posts. Other years, I just... don’t show up on Instagram for two weeks (and now I’ve let go of social media altogether). And you know what? My ministry doesn’t collapse. My audience doesn’t disappear. Life goes on.
Email responses can wait. I have an auto-responder up. People understand. And if they don’t, that’s a them problem, not a me problem.
My guys get my full presence, not my distracted half-attention. (Yes, I’m the only female in a house of 8 living beings—my husband, my three boys, and all our male pets.) When we’re building Legos on the floor, I’m not mentally drafting my next newsletter. When we’re baking cookies or having cooking competitions, I’m not checking my phone every five minutes. (Fun fact: I also went to culinary school, so my husband is not the only chef in the house.)
Here’s the shift that changed everything for me: I stopped asking “How can I squeeze in creative work during the holidays?” and started asking “How can I fully enter this season?”
Because here’s what I’ve learned: I return to creative work refreshed, not depleted.
When I take a real break—not a guilty, half-hearted, checking-my-email-every-day break, but a real, full, protected break—I come back to my work with clarity. Ideas have had space to germinate in the background. Problems I was wrestling with suddenly have solutions. The creative well that was running dry has refilled.
I’m actually MORE creative after rest. Not in spite of rest, but BECAUSE of rest.
The work doesn’t suffer from my absence. It thrives because of it.
Life-Giving vs. Restrictive Boundaries
Now let’s address the question I know some of you are asking: “But doesn’t this feel restrictive? Doesn’t it feel like I’m limiting myself?”
Here’s another piece of Scripture that reframes everything: Mark 2:27, where Jesus says, “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.”
Let me unpack this because it’s crucial to understanding the difference between life-giving boundaries and restrictive ones.
The Pharisees had turned the Sabbath into a burden. They had so many rules about what you couldn’t do on the Sabbath that rest had become exhausting. They’d taken something God designed as a GIFT and turned it into a test you could fail.
Jesus pushes back and says, essentially, “You’ve got this backwards. The Sabbath—this rest, this boundary—wasn’t created to restrict you. It was created FOR you. It’s a gift designed to protect what matters most.”
Boundaries were created FOR us, not as punishment. They’re not God’s way of keeping us from having fun or being productive or building successful ministries. They’re God’s way of protecting us from ourselves—from our tendency to work ourselves to death, from our inability to stop, from our belief that our worth is tied to our productivity.
When boundaries feel restrictive, we’ve gotten them backwards. We’ve turned them into something they were never meant to be.
Here’s the difference:
Restrictive boundaries sound like this:
“I CAN’T create during the holidays” (forced, resentful)
“I’m not ALLOWED to work” (like a punishment)
“I HAVE to rest whether I want to or not” (joyless obligation)
Life-giving boundaries sound like this:
“I’m CHOOSING not to create during holidays so I can be fully present” (intentional, peaceful)
“I’m PROTECTING this time for rest and relationship” (guardian, not prisoner)
“I GET to rest—what a gift” (grateful, joyful)
Do you hear the difference? It’s not just semantics. It’s a fundamental shift in how we view the boundary itself.
Let me show you how to reframe the boundaries you might be wrestling with:
Instead of: “I’m being lazy by not working during the holidays.”
Try: “I’m protecting sacred space for rest and relationship because both are essential to flourishing.”
Instead of: “I’m falling behind while everyone else creates content.”
Try: “I’m honoring the season God designed for rest, trusting that my work will be better for having rested.”
Instead of: “I should be more disciplined and consistent.”
Try: “True discipline means knowing when to work AND when to rest—right now, rest is the disciplined choice”.
Instead of: “What will people think if I’m not posting?”
Try: “The people who matter will understand, and the people who don’t understand don’t get to dictate my boundaries.”
Now let’s apply this specifically to the Christmas season:
This break was MADE FOR rest and presence. It’s not an interruption to your productivity—it’s a gift designed to restore you. Trying to maintain your usual creative output during a season specifically set aside for rest is like trying to harvest crops in winter. You’re working against the rhythm of the season itself.
Your family, your rest, your presence—these ARE the ministry right now. You’re not taking a break FROM ministry to focus on family. Being present with your family IS the ministry. Resting well IS the ministry. Protecting this sacred space IS kingdom work.
The boundary around this season—the choice to not create, to not produce, to not build your platform—isn’t a restriction. It’s a container protecting something precious: your presence, your peace, your family, your soul.
That’s what life-giving boundaries do. They don’t limit life—they create the space where life can flourish.
Know Yourself to Protect Yourself: DISC Types and Holiday Boundaries
Here’s something I’ve learned through my work as a Certified Christian DISC Facilitator: different personalities experience holiday pressure differently. And that means the boundaries you need might look different than the boundaries someone else needs.
Understanding your unique design helps you set boundaries that actually work for YOU, not just boundaries that sound good in theory.
(If you’re not sure of your DISC type, I’d encourage you to check out my Sacred Design intro post to discover your God-given personality design and how it shapes the way you create and rest.)
Let me break down what holiday boundaries might look like for each type, and how you can protect your energy in ways that align with your design:
D-Type Cultivators (Direct & Decisive)
Your holiday challenge: You feel guilty for not “doing” anything. Rest feels unproductive, maybe even wasteful. You keep thinking about all the things you COULD be accomplishing.
Energy protection strategies:
Schedule your rest like you’d schedule a meeting. Put “Family time” and “Rest” on your calendar as non-negotiable appointments. Your D-type brain respects what’s scheduled.
Give yourself one project that feels productive but isn’t work. Maybe it’s organizing family photos from the year, or planning next year’s goals, or researching a family vacation. Something that satisfies your need to accomplish without pulling you back into work.
Communicate your boundaries clearly and directly. Tell your team, your audience, your family: “I’m off December X through Y.” No apologizing, no hedging. Just clear, direct communication.
Reminder for D-types: Your efficiency is what EARNED you this rest. Now apply that same efficiency to resting well. Be as decisive about rest as you are about work.
I-Type Cultivators (Inspirational & Relational)
Your holiday challenge: You want to say yes to ALL the gatherings, all the parties, all the connection opportunities. Then you end up drained, overwhelmed, and frustrated that you never got actual rest.
Energy protection strategies:
Choose your “best yes” gatherings. Pick 2-3 events that truly fill your cup, rather than attending everything out of FOMO. Quality over quantity.
Build in alone time BETWEEN social events. Don’t schedule back-to-back gatherings. Your extroverted nature needs recharge time too, even if it doesn’t feel like it in the moment.
Give yourself permission to leave early. You don’t have to be the last person at every party. It’s okay to enjoy the connection and then protect your energy by leaving before you’re depleted.
Reminder for I-types: You can love people AND need space from people—both are true. Protecting your energy isn’t rejecting a relationship; it’s ensuring you have energy for the relationships that matter most.
S-Type Cultivators (Steady & Supportive)
Your holiday challenge: You’re taking care of everyone else—hosting, cooking, managing logistics, making sure everyone else is happy—while completely neglecting your own needs. You say yes to every request because you don’t want to disappoint anyone.
Energy protection strategies:
Schedule YOUR rest on the calendar just like you schedule serving others. If helping at the church event is on your calendar, so should your afternoon nap or quiet reading time.
Practice saying “I need to check my calendar” before automatically saying yes. This gives you time to evaluate whether you actually have the energy and capacity, rather than defaulting to yes out of habit.
Give yourself permission to do less than usual. The world will not fall apart if you buy cookies instead of baking them. If you simplify the decorations. If you say no to hosting this year.
Reminder for S-types: You cannot pour from an empty cup. Rest isn’t selfish—it’s how you refill so you can continue caring for others well. Protecting your energy IS caring for your family.
C-Type Cultivators (Conscientious & Excellent)
Your holiday challenge: Even when you’re “resting,” your brain is working. You feel like you SHOULD be using this time to plan, strategize, improve your systems, and optimize your processes for next year.
Energy protection strategies:
Give yourself permission for “good enough” during holidays. Not everything needs to be excellent right now. The holiday meal doesn’t have to be Pinterest-perfect. Your gift wrapping doesn’t have to be flawless. Lower the bar intentionally.
Set a specific date to RETURN to planning and strategizing. Write it down: “On January 6th, I will spend time planning for 2026.” Knowing there’s a designated time for that work helps your brain let it go for now.
Remind yourself that rest IS part of the process of excellent work. It’s not wasted time—it’s essential to doing your best work. Even God rested after creating. Rest is part of excellence, not separate from it.
Reminder for C-types: Your high standards are a gift, but they can also become a burden. Excellence includes knowing when to rest. The most conscientious choice you can make right now is to rest well.
The principle across all types: Know yourself to protect yourself. Your personality isn’t something to overcome in order to rest well—it’s something to work WITH to create boundaries that actually serve you.
Practical Tips for All Types
Regardless of your personality type, here are some practical strategies for protecting your rest this holiday season:
Before the Holidays
Batch and schedule content in advance. Whether it’s social media posts, newsletter issues, or blog content—get it done and scheduled before the holiday season hits. Your December self will thank you.
Set up auto-responders for email. Let people know you’re taking a break and when they can expect a response. Be specific: “I’m on break through January 2nd and will respond to emails after that date.”
Communicate your boundaries to your audience. You don’t owe them an explanation, but a simple “I’ll be taking a break for the holidays to be present with family” goes a long way. Most people will respect and even admire your boundary.
Clear your calendar of non-essential commitments. Look at December and ask: “What can I say no to NOW so I don’t have to navigate it later?” Be ruthless in protecting your calendar.
During the Holidays
Put your phone in another room during family time. Not on silent in your pocket—actually in another room. Out of sight, out of mind. The notifications can wait.
If ideas come, jot them in a notebook for LATER. Don’t chase the ideas right now. Don’t open your laptop to “just capture this really quick.” Write it in a notebook and trust it will be there when you return to work.
Notice the moments of presence. When you’re fully engaged with your kids, your spouse, your friends—notice how that feels. Store those moments up. They’re not just rest—they’re fuel for future creating.
Let yourself be bored. This is where creativity actually happens. Not in the constant stimulation and productivity, but in the space and silence and seemingly “wasted” time. Some of your best ideas will come in the margins of boredom.
Planning Your Return
Set a specific date to return to creative work. Not “sometime in January” but “January 6th.” Having a clear return date helps your brain fully rest rather than anxiously wondering when you “should” start again.
Think of your return as a gift to look forward to, not a burden. Frame it this way: “After I rest, I GET to create again.” Not “I HAVE to get back to work.” Your creative work is a privilege, a calling, a joy—treat it that way.
Plan something you’re excited to create. What project are you looking forward to diving into? What idea has been percolating during your rest? Give yourself something to anticipate rather than dread.
Trust that the rest will make your return work better than if you’d never stopped. You’re not losing time by resting—you’re investing in the quality of your future work. The creativity, the clarity, the energy you bring back will be worth the pause.
Three Invitations
As we close, I want to extend three invitations to you. Not obligations, not shoulds, not one more thing on your to-do list. Invitations.
1. Identify Your One Boundary
What’s the single boundary you need to set this season to protect your rest and presence?
Not a list of ten things. Just ONE thing that would make the biggest difference.
Write it down. Tell someone who will help you keep it. Make it real and specific.
And then—and this is crucial—don’t apologize for it. Don’t hedge it. Don’t leave yourself wiggle room “just in case.” Commit to the boundary fully.
2. Release the Guilt
If Jesus could say no to ministry demands—to people who literally needed healing—you can say no to whatever work is calling your name.
Your family and rest aren’t distractions from the “real work.” They ARE the real work right now.
God designed rest into creation itself. It’s woven into the fabric of how He made the world. You’re not being lazy by resting—you’re being obedient to the pattern God established.
The work will be there when you return. I promise you, the work will be there. Your platform won’t disappear because you took two weeks off. Your audience will still be there. The ideas will still come.
But the sacred moment—your kids at this age, this Christmas, this season—that won’t come again.
Release the guilt. It’s not serving you, it’s not serving your family, and it’s not honoring God’s design for rest.
3. Plan Your Joyful Return
Pick a date to return to creative work. Put it on your calendar. Make it real.
And then ask yourself: What am I excited to create when I return? What ideas am I storing up during this rest? What has this season of presence sparked in me that I want to explore when I get back to work?
Frame your return as a gift: “After I rest, I GET to create again.”
Not “I have to get back to work.” Not “Back to the grind.” Not even “Back to normal.”
But “I get to return to the work I love, refreshed and renewed.”
The rhythm isn’t work, THEN rest as a reward for working hard enough. The rhythm is work AND rest, both essential, both sacred, both part of the pattern God designed.
Getting back to creative work after resting well is the reward. The clarity, the energy, the fresh perspective, the new ideas—that’s what rest gives you to bring back to your work.
So rest well, knowing that your return will be all the sweeter for having truly let go.
Trust the Rhythm
In God’s creation pattern, separation created space for life to flourish.
Your boundary around this season—choosing not to create, not to produce, not to build your platform right now—creates space for rest, for presence, for family, for life to flourish in its fullness.
This isn’t taking a break FROM ministry. Being fully present with the people God has placed in your life IS ministry right now. Resting well so you can create from overflow rather than depletion IS kingdom work. Modeling sustainable rhythms for other creatives IS discipleship.
When Jesus said no to ministry demands that morning by the lake, He wasn’t being irresponsible or lazy or unfaithful. He was protecting something sacred. He was honoring the rhythm He’d established with the Father. He was trusting that the work would still be there, but the moment of connection wouldn’t.
You can trust that same rhythm.
The work will be there. Your calling will be there. The ideas will be there.
But this Christmas, this time with your people, this opportunity to rest deeply and fully—this sacred moment is right now.
Trust the rhythm. Honor the season. Protect the sacred.
And when you return to your creative work in the new year, you’ll bring back something more valuable than consistent content or an unbroken posting streak: you’ll bring back presence, peace, and the kind of deep rest that makes truly excellent work possible.
That’s the gift of life-giving boundaries.
That’s the pattern God established in creation itself.
That’s what it means to work WITH your design, not against it.
May your rest be deep, your presence be full, and your return be joyful.
What boundary do you need to set this season? I’d love to hear in the comments—and if you need permission to set it, consider this your permission slip. Rest well, friend.
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