Eliana’s email inbox blinked like it was on fire—ninety-seven unread messages and rising. Her phone buzzed again: a missing report, a last-minute meeting, an urgent reminder to "push harder." She gritted her teeth, eyes burning as she scanned her never-ending to-do list. It was always more. More improvement. More speed. More hustle. And no matter how much she did, she felt like she was slipping behind.
The room felt too small, heavy with invisible expectations. She grabbed her coat and fled outside, into the cool evening air of Jerusalem. The stone streets, golden under the sinking sun, offered no comfort at first. Eliana’s steps were frantic, empty. She didn’t know where she was going—just away.
Somewhere near the old park by the olive trees, she stopped. Her body wasn’t cooperating anymore: her legs trembled, her chest felt too tight. She collapsed onto a bench, putting her head in her hands. Quiet sobs shuddered through her.
"I can’t keep up. I can't outrun this," she whispered brokenly to the darkening sky. Tears blurred her vision until the world softened into shimmering shadows.
After a long moment, she heard it: leaves rustling in a soft wind. A lullaby of sorts, gentle and ancient. She lifted her head slowly, realizing she wasn’t alone—an older man nearby was playing a flute, the notes weaving like prayers into the sky. He wasn’t playing for her; he wasn’t even looking at her. Just sitting there, pouring out music into the dusk.
Eliana pressed her hand to her heart, overwhelmed by the unexpected beauty. The music didn’t demand anything of her. It wasn’t trying to make her achieve or rush. It just was.
Words from her youth floated back to her from somewhere deep inside—words she hadn’t thought about in years: "He leads me beside still waters; He restores my soul."
She sat very still, letting those ancient words wash over her tired spirit. "Still waters." When had she last tasted stillness?
A warm breeze picked up, carrying the scent of jasmine blooming nearby, sweet and clean. Another memory rose: her mother lighting Shabbat candles, pausing to whisper blessings into the soft air. A pause in the endless motion of life, a reminder that G-d created rest as a gift. Rest wasn’t quitting; it was trusting. Trusting that G-d could hold the world even if her hands let go.
Eliana exhaled shakily. She glanced at her phone, now silent in her pocket—and, for once, she left it there. She closed her eyes, listening deeply: to the flute, the whispering leaves, her own heart slowing its frantic pace.
G-d hadn’t abandoned her in the rush. He had been waiting in the quiet.
After a while, Eliana stood, hands loose at her sides, a small smile trembling onto her lips. She walked home slowly, savoring each step, as if every stone underfoot whispered: You are already enough. Come and rest.
She knew tomorrow there would still be meetings and deadlines. The world would still shout, Hustle harder! But inside her, something tender had reawakened—a sanctuary of still waters, a secret place where G-d called her simply to be His beloved, not His employee.
And that would be enough.
—
Verses for Reflection:
✨ Psalm 23:2–3 — "He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul; He leads me in paths of righteousness for His Name’s sake."
✨ Exodus 20:8–10 — "Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath of G-d, your G-d."
✨ Isaiah 30:15 — "For thus said the Lord G-d, the Holy One of Israel: In calmness and quiet you shall be saved; in tranquility and trust shall be your strength."
✨ Hebrews 4:9 — "So there remains a rest for the people of G-d."
✨ Jeremiah 6:16 — "Thus says the Lord: Stand on the highways, and see, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls."
Eliana’s email inbox blinked like it was on fire—ninety-seven unread messages and rising. Her phone buzzed again: a missing report, a last-minute meeting, an urgent reminder to "push harder." She gritted her teeth, eyes burning as she scanned her never-ending to-do list. It was always more. More improvement. More speed. More hustle. And no matter how much she did, she felt like she was slipping behind.
The room felt too small, heavy with invisible expectations. She grabbed her coat and fled outside, into the cool evening air of Jerusalem. The stone streets, golden under the sinking sun, offered no comfort at first. Eliana’s steps were frantic, empty. She didn’t know where she was going—just away.
Somewhere near the old park by the olive trees, she stopped. Her body wasn’t cooperating anymore: her legs trembled, her chest felt too tight. She collapsed onto a bench, putting her head in her hands. Quiet sobs shuddered through her.
"I can’t keep up. I can't outrun this," she whispered brokenly to the darkening sky. Tears blurred her vision until the world softened into shimmering shadows.
After a long moment, she heard it: leaves rustling in a soft wind. A lullaby of sorts, gentle and ancient. She lifted her head slowly, realizing she wasn’t alone—an older man nearby was playing a flute, the notes weaving like prayers into the sky. He wasn’t playing for her; he wasn’t even looking at her. Just sitting there, pouring out music into the dusk.
Eliana pressed her hand to her heart, overwhelmed by the unexpected beauty. The music didn’t demand anything of her. It wasn’t trying to make her achieve or rush. It just was.
Words from her youth floated back to her from somewhere deep inside—words she hadn’t thought about in years: "He leads me beside still waters; He restores my soul."
She sat very still, letting those ancient words wash over her tired spirit. "Still waters." When had she last tasted stillness?
A warm breeze picked up, carrying the scent of jasmine blooming nearby, sweet and clean. Another memory rose: her mother lighting Shabbat candles, pausing to whisper blessings into the soft air. A pause in the endless motion of life, a reminder that G-d created rest as a gift. Rest wasn’t quitting; it was trusting. Trusting that G-d could hold the world even if her hands let go.
Eliana exhaled shakily. She glanced at her phone, now silent in her pocket—and, for once, she left it there. She closed her eyes, listening deeply: to the flute, the whispering leaves, her own heart slowing its frantic pace.
G-d hadn’t abandoned her in the rush. He had been waiting in the quiet.
After a while, Eliana stood, hands loose at her sides, a small smile trembling onto her lips. She walked home slowly, savoring each step, as if every stone underfoot whispered: You are already enough. Come and rest.
She knew tomorrow there would still be meetings and deadlines. The world would still shout, Hustle harder! But inside her, something tender had reawakened—a sanctuary of still waters, a secret place where G-d called her simply to be His beloved, not His employee.
And that would be enough.
—
Verses for Reflection:
✨ Psalm 23:2–3 — "He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul; He leads me in paths of righteousness for His Name’s sake."
✨ Exodus 20:8–10 — "Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath of G-d, your G-d."
✨ Isaiah 30:15 — "For thus said the Lord G-d, the Holy One of Israel: In calmness and quiet you shall be saved; in tranquility and trust shall be your strength."
✨ Hebrews 4:9 — "So there remains a rest for the people of G-d."
✨ Jeremiah 6:16 — "Thus says the Lord: Stand on the highways, and see, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls."
