Title: The Warfare of Rest: Why Your Stillness Confuses the Enemy
Scripture: "Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth." (Psalm 46:10)
Introduction: The Exhaustion Epidemic
Let me be honest with you, beloved. I am writing this from my study in Akasia, just as the Pretoria afternoon heat begins to relent. Outside my window, the taxis hoot on the Mabopane Highway, and somewhere a neighbour's generator coughs to life because, well, this is South Africa in 2026—we plan for load shedding like we plan for December.
And speaking of December, did we not just witness something beautiful? A British woman went viral on TikTok recently, utterly baffled by our South African habit of shutting down the entire month. She could not understand why we treat December not as a month, but as a lifestyle . We laughed at the video because it was true. We know something she does not know. We know that Dezemba is not laziness; it is survival. It is the collective exhale of a people who have fought for eleven months just to stay standing.
But here is the question that has been troubling my spirit as I drive past the never-ending water outage protests in Johannesburg , as I watch politicians gather for all-night prayers while commissions of inquiry circle overhead . Why do we treat rest as an annual event rather than a spiritual discipline?
Why do we wait for December to be still?
The Senzo Mchunu Dilemma: Prayer vs. Striving
You saw it, didn't you? The headlines about the 12-hour all-night prayer for suspended Police Minister Senzo Mchunu in Mbombela . Social media burned with opinions. Some mocked. Some cheered. The organiser said something profound: "We are praying for God to reveal the truth because we need him as our leader" .
Now, I am not here to debate the politics of that moment. But I am here to ask you: Is that not what we all do? When our leaders face trouble, we pray. When our jobs face retrenchment, we pray. When our marriages face collapse, we pray. But then—and this is the Mawela principle—we get up from our knees and immediately pick up the burden God never asked us to carry.
We pray, and then we strive.
We intercede, and then we interfere.
We petition heaven, and then we panic on earth.
The Scripture declares unequivocally: "Be still, and know that I am God."
Not "be busy and prove that you are faithful." Not "be anxious and demonstrate that you care." Be still.
The People Are Burning: A South African Lament
There is a production running at the State Theatre right now that has captured the nation's imagination. It is called The People Are Burning . Jay Jody and Manu WorldStar have taken a phrase we shout in celebration—"The people are burning!"—and turned it inward. They explore what happens when the party stops. When the fire is no longer joy but exhaustion. When the burning is not passion but burnout .
Let me tell you, beloved, the reason that production resonates is because we are all burning. We are burning the candle at both ends. We are burning our annual leave. We are burning our Sundays. We are burning our sanity trying to prove to God that He made a good investment when He saved us.
But your exhaustion is not a currency God accepts.
Imagine, if you will, a father who gives his son an expensive gift—a car, perhaps a brand new Volkswagen Polo. And imagine that son spends the entire night pushing the car from Akasia to Pretoria CBD, sweating and straining, while the engine sits idle. The father would say, "My son, what are you doing? The car has an engine! Get inside and drive!"
Yet this is exactly what we do with the grace of God. We push what we were meant to pilot. We strain where we were meant to rest.
The December Principle Applied Spiritually
South Africans understand something about rest that the British woman could not comprehend. We understand that productivity has seasons. We understand that you cannot harvest in January what you did not plant in October, and you cannot plant in December what you refused to water in June .
One social media user commented: "If you saw how productivity drops immediately on 1 December, you'd understand why they don't want us at work" . Another said: "December is not a month in South Africa; it's a lifestyle" .
Now, apply that to your spiritual life.
What if your rest was not a pause in your productivity but the source of it?
What if your stillness before God was not a waste of time but the only time that actually counts?
The art world is waking up to this reality. The Mail & Guardian recently reported that South African artists are moving from constant production to something "more uneven and deliberate." They are learning that survival mode reshapes the terrain. One artist noted: "The expectation of constant production and visibility has given way to something more uneven and deliberate. In the coming years, the art world may produce less—but not necessarily think less" .
Church, hear me. If the world can learn to rest in order to create, can we not learn to rest in order to receive?
The Argument Formulated
Let us reason together for a moment.
Premise One: God is sovereign over all affairs of humanity. The Scripture says, "The Most High rules in the kingdom of men, and gives it to whomever He chooses" (Daniel 4:17).
Premise Two: Human striving cannot add to or subtract from God's sovereign decrees. As the Psalmist declares, "Unless the Lord builds the house, they labor in vain who build it" (Psalm 127:1).
Premise Three: Therefore, continued striving after we have committed our way to the Lord is not faith—it is unbelief wearing work boots.
A common objection arises: "But Harold, the Bible also says faith without works is dead!"
I answer you with all due respect: James is not contradicting the Psalms. The work of faith is not the labor of the flesh. When you truly believe that God is who He says He is, the work you do flows from rest, not from panic. You work from your identity, not for your identity.
The Water Crisis and the Dignity of Dependence
You have seen the protests. Joburg residents blocking streets because for four days, no water came from the tap . One resident, Zubair Patel, said something that broke my heart: "We don't want trucks, we want the dignity that we pay for in our rates and taxes" .
Dignity. That is the word.
We believe our dignity is in our capacity to provide for ourselves. When the water stops, we feel undignified because we must depend on trucks. When the salary delays, we feel undignified because we must depend on loans. When the marriage struggles, we feel undignified because we must depend on counsel.
But here is the gospel paradox: In the kingdom of God, dignity is found in dependence.
Jesus Christ, the Son of God, said: "I can of Myself do nothing" (John 5:30). If the Creator could say that about His earthly ministry, who are you to claim independence?
Your water will fail. Your Eskom will fail. Your municipality will fail. Your bank account will fail. But when you learn to rest in the sovereignty of God, you discover a fountain that never runs dry.
The Prophet's Voice: A Word for 2026
Beloved, I must sound the alarm. We are entering a season in South Africa where striving will no longer work. The old strategies are failing. The old networks are collapsing. The old connections are short-circuiting.
Just last week, we laid to rest Bishop Dr John Bolana of the Bantu Church of Christ in Gqeberha . Deputy President Mashatile called him a "pillar of strength" and a "spiritual giant" . But here is what struck me: Bishop Bolana served for decades. He did not chase relevance. He did not chase platforms. He did not chase political connections. He simply abided. And when he passed, the nation paused.
That is the fruit of a rested life. When you stop striving, your life becomes a testament to the God who never slumbers.
The world is looking at South Africa differently in 2026. The African News Agency reports that global perception has shifted because of raw, unscripted moments—like an American YouTuber experiencing township energy unfiltered . The article says: "When a country is reduced to extremes, it becomes easy to misunderstand, oversimplify and misjudge. But when viewers saw spontaneous joy erupt in township streets, they were forced to reconsider what they thought they knew" .
Church, the same is true of you. When the world sees you frantic, striving, anxious, and burning out—they misunderstand your God. But when they see you restful, peaceful, joyful in the midst of crisis—they are forced to reconsider what they thought they knew about your Jesus.
The Warfare of Rest
Let me close with this military image.
We think rest is passive. We think sitting still is surrender. But in the spiritual realm, your rest is active warfare.
When you rest in God's sovereignty, you declare to the enemy: "You cannot steal what God guards."
When you rest in God's provision, you declare to poverty: "You are not my source."
When you rest in God's timing, you declare to the accelerated world: "My speed is not your speed."
While you sleep, God shifts seasons. While you rest, God opens doors. While you are still, God silences enemies.
Your "how" is His responsibility.
Your "when" is His appointment.
Your "what if" is His opportunity.
The Psalmist did not say, "Be anxious and prove your relevance." He said, "Be still, and know that I am God."
A Personal Word from Akasia
I will be transparent with you. There was a time this year when I thought my ministry would collapse. The pressure mounted. The expectations suffocated. The phone would not stop ringing, and the bank account would not stop declining. I was burning.
And then, in the quiet of my study here in Akasia, as the Joburg traffic faded and the Pretoria dusk settled, I heard the Spirit whisper: "Harold, I am God whether you speak or stay silent. I am God whether they applaud or attack. I am God whether you understand or endure."
I laid down my struggle that night. I entered His rest. And do you know what happened? Nothing changed—and everything changed. The problems remained, but the panic left. The questions remained, but the anxiety left. The work remained, but the striving left.
Your Call to Action
Today, I challenge you to practice trust over toil.
Watch Him multiply your faithful seeds into a harvest you did not plant.
Watch Him fight battles you did not even know were raging.
Watch Him open doors you were too exhausted to knock on.
The enemy wants you exhausted because exhausted soldiers are ineffective soldiers. But rested warriors? Rested warriors see walls fall. Rested warriors see giants stumble. Rested warriors see the salvation of the Lord.
Prayer
Lord Jesus Christ, I lay down my struggle at Your feet. I am tired of pushing what You designed to carry. Teach my soul to rest in Your sovereignty. Forgive me for treating exhaustion as faithfulness. Forgive me for measuring my worth by my workload. Today, I choose stillness. Today, I choose trust. Today, I declare that You are God—and I am not. And that is the best news I could ever receive. In the mighty name of Jesus, Amen.
Harold Mawela writes from Akasia, Pretoria, where he is learning that rest is not a luxury—it is a commandment.
https://podcasts.apple.com/gh/podcast/the-miracle-in-your-rest/id1506692775?i=1000750446475
Comments
Post a Comment