At the Housing Authority, burnout was the culture. Long hours, skipped lunches, constant stress — it was celebrated as “commitment.” Rest was seen as weakness.

I fell into that trap. I worked myself to exhaustion. I ignored my body’s signals. I thought my worth was tied to how much I could endure. But all that did was drain me.

Leaving taught me that rest is not weakness. Rest is resistance. Every time I choose rest, I am rejecting the system that tried to keep me drained. I am reclaiming my humanity in a culture that treated me like a machine.

Even the illegal withholding of my paycheck felt like punishment for leaving. But what it really did was push me further into rest — and that rest became my healing.

Fasting has reminded me of the holiness of rest. God rested on the seventh day not because He was tired, but because He was showing us a pattern. Rest is sacred. It is an act of trust. My soul fast showed me that distractions can never replace true rest. Only surrender can.

Now, I honor rest as resistance. When I rest, I refuse to be bound by systems of exploitation. I refuse to glorify exhaustion. And I choose instead to honor God with my body, mind, and spirit.

Rest is my new rebellion. And it is the most healing resistance I’ve ever known.