Learning to Rest in Love

Learning to Rest in Love: From Brokenness to Belovedness – Part 3

There was a time when I thought love meant constant motion. Doing. Serving. Performing. Proving that I was worth the breath in my lungs.

Even after I learned that I was loved, I still tried to “live up” to it — to be the kind of person who deserved grace.

But love doesn’t ask for constant movement. It invites stillness and trust.

Because real love, divine love, doesn’t need to be earned — it’s received.

When I began to rest — truly rest — I realized how exhausted I had been from trying to be “enough.”

Love isn’t another assignment. It’s the place we return to.

In the Garden, before there was work or striving, there was presence.

Adam’s first full day of life was a day of rest — a Sabbath spent walking with God. That’s how our story began: in stillness, not striving.

And it’s where we’re invited to return.

When you finally stop to breathe, you begin to hear what love has been saying all along:

“You don’t have to hold it all together. You just have to be here.”

That’s where the healing begins — not in trying harder, but in allowing the God who loves you to be enough for you.

When we rest in that kind of love, we stop performing and start becoming.

In that becoming, we rediscover our own divine rhythm — the pulse of heaven moving through the ordinary.

Today, before you do another thing, pause and simply say:

“I rest in the love that already holds me.”

No more proving. No more pushing. Just presence.

Because belovedness was never something to achieve — it’s the air you were born to breathe.

Infinite love and blessings,

Nicholas

📖 Inspired by themes from my new book, Our Bodies as the Garden of Eden — discover how to live from wholeness, not striving.