By Jessica Brodie

Have you ever broken a bone? I did recently, for the first time in my life, and it’s not fun—but it’s teaching me a lot.

See, I’m horrible at relaxing. I’m sure I sound like such a boring person saying this. I promise I have a good sense of fun and adventure, but I’ve also worn the self-imposed mantle of responsibility since I was three and my sister was born, making me the “oldest child.” Because of this, I push myself even when I don’t have to, and I feel like I always have to take care of other people (whether that’s advocacy or basic needs). I’ve probably shared before that I usually need to put designated downtime on my calendar so I make it a priority. Otherwise I’d just work my life away.

But you know how God sometimes has to whisper to get your attention, and other times he has to smack you over the head with it to get the message through?

Right now God is telling me to rest and be still, to learn to let some of that responsibility go.

I’m trying really hard to listen.

The question is: Can I listen long-term? Can I understand that, in this too, I need to be obedient? Is this workaholism I disguise as the mantle of responsibility also, at its core, a sin?

I broke my foot in early June, which means I’m spending the next six to eight weeks of summer with a broken foot, complete with a borrowed boot from a colleague. I don’t even have a good story about how I broke it, either. I have no memory of anything major happening other than that my very large German Shepherd, Captain, got really excited one day when I got home and danced on my left foot. It hurt, but I didn’t think much of it. As I normally do, I went about my business of busyness, everything from basic to important stuff—from making dinner to a four-day conference with lots of walking. The limping just kept getting worse, but like Dory in Finding Nemo, my “just keep pushing” became like a silly “just keep swimming” mantra. If my foot wasn’t broken before, pushing through made it far worse, and an X-ray confirmed it really is a fracture. It hurts, too!

Sometimes, pushing through isn’t the answer.

The thing is, back in the winter, I wrote a similar blog on this very same topic … learning to rest. Taking lessons from forced relaxation. Back then, I had hurt my foot and it didn’t get better (turned out to be plantar fasciitis), and it was really frustrating. And yes, it’s the same foot. it took five months, lots of foot therapy, and a pair of expensive custom orthotics before I could walk normally.

When the pain hit, I certainly listened to God. But when that pain stopped, guess what? I went right back to my old habits.

Now, with a broken foot all summer long and a boot in 100-plus degree weather, it’s clear I really need to pay attention to what God is telling me long-term. REST.

The other day, I received a gift in the mail underscoring this message even clearer. I’d shared with a friend who is a pastor that I believed God was trying to tell me to rest, and this friend sent me a corded medallion bracelet imprinted with the words “Be still.”

It’s a reference to Psalm 46:10, where God proclaims, “Be still, and know that I am God.”

Loud and clear, God. I hear you loud and clear.

I put that bracelet on, and I plan to wear it a long time—until the message really sinks in, long after the boot is gone and the pain has subsided.

No matter what, God is in control. That mantle of responsibility I’ve had on my shoulders since I was three is just a mantle I put there myself. It’s an illusion, a self-imposed role I created.

Yes, I’m a responsible person by nature, but at what point does responsibility become a God complex? At what point does responsibility become a sin?

I don’t know where you are in your life and if you can relate to this at all, or if you’ve been here before too. But this week, I urge you to pray with me on whether God is telling you, also, to be still and know that he is God.

Here’s a picture of my new bracelet. I hope it inspires you.