“I don’t know what to do next,” I told my coach. I could practically hear her smile on the other end of the phone. I waited.

“I have a solution,” she said.

I plodded on. “I don’t have a book contract right now, and it freaks me out. What is God up to? What should I do right now? I mean, I could write a novel, but the story isn’t in my head. God usually plops one into my mind, then I write it. I could write another memoir, but I’m still struggling to decide whether dredging up an awful secret is worth it to my emotional health.”

“Mary,” she said. Just Mary.

“I guess I should let you talk.”

“You need a rest,” she said. “You’ve been blowing and going for far too long. No wonder you don’t know what’s next. You can’t know. Your mind hasn’t stopped. You need a vacation.”

Drat. She said the exact same words my husband gave me a few weeks ago. All these folks who love me keep saying the same thing: rest, rest, rest.

I’m trying. Does it count if I try? I’m terrible at resting.

I’d appreciate your prayers as I learn the art of rest, as I ask Jesus for what is next, as I learn to turn things over (once again) to Him.

What about you? When was the last time you rested? What was the result?