It’s been a while, but today I took my lunch hour at church. My lack of mid-week ventures hasn’t been due to lack of desire—I simply didn’t know where to go. There were many options when I worked in Manhattan, but most parishes in the suburbs are locked tight during the week. Except, it seems, for St. Paul’s in Princeton.

I’ve been feeling overwhelmed by matters of life and work, so when I entered the mostly-empty church it was like a sigh of relief. The quiet time was partially inspired by St. Edith Stein, whose biography I delved into this week. Last night, I read her words on “resting in God,” and knew it had been too long since I’d done it myself.

“There is a state of resting in God, an absolute break from all intellectual activity, when one forms no plans, makes no decisions, and for the first time really ceases to act, when one simply hands over the future to God’s will and ‘surrenders himself to fate.’”

This rest is a kind of meditation, one I can’t admit to being very good at. The mind wanders. It dwells on situations, or people, or feelings. But I sat in the pew with my rosary (I knew there was a reason I never took it out of my purse) and accepted the quiet. I talked to Jesus. I talked to Mary. The simple sense of peace, even for that short period of time, tells me that they listened.

Relevant Radio spoke recently about disconnecting from the constant bombardment of social media. Our brains are always engaged because we’re scrolling a feed, or immediately answering messages, and we’re on alert 24 hours a day (yes, the phone is even nearby while sleeping). We need rest. We need to disconnect. I haven’t gone hiking recently, and I can feel it. It’s like my brain needs a detox. When I’m in the mountains, I turn off the phone. It’s just me, my hiking companions, and God’s creation. When I start to crave the music of a streaming waterfall, you know I need to get out there again. (Preferably soon, with the forthcoming colors of autumn!)

This rest isn’t merely for my own sake—that peace extends to others, just as stress and anxiety do. I’d much prefer the former, but we won’t have that patient, loving peace without resting in God. I’m happy to have found a place I can visit anytime (or until they lock the doors at 9:00 p.m.), where I can take a break. No obligations, no phone, and no concrete plans. Simply a time to rest, to pray, and to listen.