I had big plans for my July sabbatical.

Or perhaps I should say, I had big plans to not have big plans.

I wanted to slow down. Step away from my usual rhythms. Spend unhurried time with God and the people I love. Rest. Reflect. Reconnect.

And I did some of those things.

But a few weeks later, as I reflected on the month, I felt regret sneaking in. I found myself thinking about all the ways I could have done it better.

Maybe I should have disconnected more.

Maybe I should have been more intentional.

Maybe I should have rested more.

And there it was.

I was turning rest into another measure of success.

Perhaps you know the feeling.

When you’re a driven, highly motivated woman, you’re used to accomplishing things. You set a goal, make a plan and get to work. So even when the goal is rest, it’s surprisingly easy to approach it with the same achievement mindset.

Did I rest enough?

Did I do sabbatical right?

Did I come back refreshed enough?

And if the answer isn’t a resounding yes, we can be tempted to conclude that we failed.

But what if rest isn’t something we succeed or fail at?

What if it’s something we practice?

A few weeks removed from my sabbatical, I’m beginning to see my July experience differently. And I’m taking these three lessons with me.

1. Recognize that rest is a practice

Rest isn’t something we do once and suddenly feel like we’ve arrived.

Like many other spiritual practices, we learn rest by practicing it.

We keep showing up.

We keep making space.

We keep noticing what helps us slow down and what pulls us back into hurry.

And then we practice again.

That shift has been important for me because it takes rest out of the category of something I need to master.

I’m learning.

And learning takes practice.

Maybe your last attempt at rest didn’t look the way you hoped either. Maybe the quiet weekend wasn’t particularly quiet. Maybe you planned a day off but still checked email. Maybe you sat down to spend time with God and couldn’t seem to settle your thoughts.

That doesn’t mean you failed.

It means you’re practicing.

And the beautiful thing about a practice is that you get to come back to it again.

2. Learn to rest your way

I’m also learning that rest doesn’t have to look the same for everyone.

What restores someone else might not restore you.

One person might relish an entire day alone. Someone else feels most refreshed after an unhurried meal with people she loves. For some, rest might look like sitting quietly with a book. For others, it could be gardening, walking, journaling, creating, enjoying nature, sharing conversation or simply doing nothing for a while.

This is one reason I appreciate the variety of spiritual practices available to us. Rest and soul care don’t have to fit into one particular mold.

I’ve written before about spiritual practices for soul care, and one of the things I appreciate most about these practices is the invitation to discover what helps you become more attentive to God and to your own soul.

The more I practice rest, the more I can pay attention to questions like:

What leaves me feeling restored?

Where do I find myself slowing down naturally?

What helps me become more present to God, to myself and to the people I love?

When rest is hard, instead of trying to copy someone else’s version of rest, I can notice the rhythms that bring life to me.

You can too.

3. Celebrate the rest you received

Perhaps this has been my biggest lesson.

When I first looked back at July, it was easy to notice what I hadn’t accomplished … or perhaps more appropriately, what I hadn’t not accomplished.

But when I changed my focus, I began to see something different.

I remembered moments sitting on my porch, looking out toward the horizon.

Quiet moments with my hubby.

Time spent combing my mom’s hair.

Ordinary moments that would be easy to overlook if I were measuring the month against some imaginary standard of what a sabbatical was supposed to be.

There was rest there.

There was connection.

There was beauty.

There was God.

Philippians 4:8 reminds us to turn our thoughts toward what is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent and praiseworthy.

Sometimes we simply need to change the lens.

Instead of asking, Where did I fall short? I can ask:

Where did I receive the gift of rest?

That’s a very different question.

And when I ask it, I realize there is quite a lot to sit with and savor.

Maybe You Didn’t Fail at Rest Either

If you’ve tried to slow down before and found it harder than you expected, I hope you’ll resist the temptation to give up.

You don’t need a month-long sabbatical to practice rest.

You don’t even need to get it right.

Maybe your next opportunity is a weekend. An afternoon. A quiet morning. Ten minutes sitting outside before the day begins.

Start there.

Notice what restores you.

Receive the moments you’re given.

And when your attempt at rest doesn’t go exactly as planned, give yourself permission to practice again.

Because perhaps the goal isn’t to become good at resting.

Perhaps the invitation is simply to become more willing to receive it.

And that, I’m learning, takes practice.