Why Slowing Down is the Fastest Way to Grow Spiritually

By Nicholas DeYoung

The Paradox of Stillness

We don’t usually associate slowness with success. In a world that celebrates hustle, rewards efficiency, and measures progress by the speed of results, the idea that spiritual growth happens best when we slow down sounds backwards. And yet—this is the paradox at the heart of Christian spirituality: the deepest transformation happens not in striving, but in stillness.

We often assume that if we just do more—read more, serve more, pray more, attend more—we’ll become more spiritual. But in truth, our hurried lives can actually suffocate our souls. As Dallas Willard famously said, “Hurry is the great enemy of spiritual life in our day. You must ruthlessly eliminate hurry from your life.”

In this article, we’ll explore why slowing down is not just beneficial, but essential for spiritual growth. We’ll look at the biblical rhythm of rest, the practice of Sabbath, the power of silence, and practical ways to begin cultivating a slower, more attentive life with God.

The Problem with Hurry

Most of us live at a pace that’s simply incompatible with spiritual depth. We move fast, scroll endlessly, and fill every quiet moment with noise or distraction. We confuse activity with intimacy—assuming that if our calendars are full and our service is visible, we must be doing well spiritually.

But hurry crowds out what’s most important: awareness of God’s presence.

When we’re rushing, we don’t notice the Spirit’s gentle promptings. We react instead of reflect. We skim Scripture instead of soaking in it. We pray in fragments instead of listening with our whole hearts. Ironically, the faster we move, the more distant God feels—not because He’s far away, but because we’ve stopped paying attention.

Hurry is not just a scheduling problem. It’s a spiritual disease.

The Biblical Pattern of Slowness

From the very beginning, God embedded rest into the rhythm of life. After six days of creation, God did something remarkable: He rested. Not because He was tired, but to model the rhythm of work and rest. Genesis 2:2-3 tells us that God “blessed the seventh day and made it holy,” setting it apart as sacred.

Jesus, too, lived with intentional slowness. Despite the urgent needs around Him, He never seemed rushed. He often withdrew to desolate places to pray (Mark 1:35, Luke 5:16). He napped in a storm (Mark 4:38). He walked—never ran—toward ministry. He practiced presence, not productivity.

Slowness, in the biblical sense, isn’t laziness. It’s trust. It’s the courage to believe that God is at work—even when we’re not.

Rest: A Sacred Resistance

Sabbath rest is not just a good idea—it’s a divine command. It’s not self-care; it’s soul obedience.

When God instituted the Sabbath in Genesis 2:2–3, He did more than model a break from labor. He wove into creation itself a rhythm of ceasing—a cadence that reminds us we are not machines, but image-bearers. To ignore Sabbath is not just to risk burnout; it’s to violate the natural order God has established for human flourishing.

And yet, we resist it. Why? Because Sabbath challenges everything our culture holds sacred: achievement, efficiency, productivity, constant availability.

But here’s the truth: Sabbath is resistance.

It’s resistance against the false self that finds identity in performance.

It’s resistance against the tyranny of the urgent.

It’s resistance against the cultural myth that you are what you produce.

Walter Brueggemann puts it bluntly:

“Sabbath becomes a decisive, concrete, visible way of opting for and aligning with the God of rest.”

It’s a line in the sand. When we stop—really stop—we declare that God is our provider, not our performance. That the world can keep turning without us. That our identity is received, not achieved.

Rest as an Act of Trust

Taking a day off might sound simple, but for many of us, it feels impossible. There’s too much to do. Too many people relying on us. Too many loose ends to tie up.

But that’s exactly where faith comes in. Sabbath is trust in action. It says, “God, I believe You’ll take care of what I let go.”

In Exodus 16, God provided manna for Israel in the wilderness. But on the sixth day, He gave them enough for two days—and commanded them to rest on the seventh. Those who tried to gather on Sabbath found nothing. The lesson? Provision is tied to obedience. Rest is not a reward for getting everything done. It’s a gift we receive in faith.

Redefining Productivity

Rest doesn’t mean inactivity. It means intentionality. On Sabbath, we engage in things that restore us: delight, worship, beauty, reflection, laughter, good meals, long walks, deep breaths. We recalibrate our souls to what matters most.

It’s not a day to catch up. It’s a day to let go.

We’re not just resting from something—we’re resting for something: for joy, for connection, for worship, for renewal.

Practical Sabbath Ideas

If a 24-hour Sabbath feels overwhelming, start small. A few ideas:

Light a candle at dinner and mark the beginning of rest
Turn off devices for a few hours
Enjoy a slow meal with people you love
Spend time outdoors without an agenda
Take a nap without guilt
Read a book that feeds your soul
End the day with a psalm and a prayer of gratitude

As you practice Sabbath—even imperfectly—you’ll notice something shifting. The anxiety loosens its grip. Your creativity returns. Your prayers deepen. You begin to experience what Eugene Peterson calls “the unforced rhythms of grace.”

Sabbath becomes not just a day, but a way of being.

Silence: Making Space for God

If Sabbath is rest in time, silence is rest in the soul.

In our age of constant connectivity and digital noise, silence feels like a lost art. We fear it. We fill it. We escape it. But silence is where spiritual clarity is often born. It is in silence that we begin to hear what our hurried lives drown out: the still, small voice of God.

The Biblical Invitation to Silence

Scripture is filled with examples of God meeting His people in quiet places:

In 1 Kings 19, Elijah doesn’t encounter God in the wind, the earthquake, or the fire—but in a gentle whisper.
Psalm 46:10 urges us: “Be still, and know that I am God.”
Jesus Himself regularly withdrew to lonely places to pray (Luke 5:16).

Jesus, though surrounded by crowds and constant demands, never let noise rule His soul. He taught, healed, and led—but always from a place of rooted stillness.

Why Silence is Hard (and Why That Matters)

Silence confronts us with ourselves. When we slow down and stop talking, we notice things: anxious thoughts, buried grief, anger we’ve ignored, desires we’ve numbed. This discomfort tempts us to turn the volume back up.

But here’s the truth: God doesn’t avoid those parts of us—He meets us there. Silence is not about emptying our minds, but opening our hearts. It is not the absence of thought, but the presence of God.

Christian mystics and spiritual mothers and fathers throughout history have long understood this. From the Desert Fathers of the 3rd century to modern contemplatives like Thomas Merton, Henri Nouwen, and Ruth Haley Barton, silence has always been a path to deeper communion with God.

“Silence is the language of God. All else is a poor translation.” —Thomas Keating

Silence as Worship

We often think of worship as something loud—music, praise, declaration. And it is. But silence can also be worship. It is the posture of a surrendered soul, the bowing of the will, the offering of undistracted attention.

It says to God: “You don’t have to perform for me. And I don’t have to perform for You. I just want to be with You.”

In that sacred quiet, we often find:

Clarity about decisions
Conviction about sin
Comfort in grief
Creative inspiration
Communion without words

How to Practice Silence (Without Making It Weird)

Start where you are, not where you think you should be. Here are simple ways to begin:

🕊️ Breath Prayer: Inhale a name of God, exhale a simple petition
📖 Lectio Divina: Slowly read and meditate on a short Scripture passage
🌲 Silent Walks: Leave your phone behind and walk in nature
🕯️ Morning/Evening Silence: Begin or end your day in stillness
🙏 Silent Retreats: Try even a half-day unplugged with God

You will get distracted. Your mind will wander. That’s okay. Don’t judge it—just return gently to God. The goal isn’t perfect silence, but surrendered presence.

Slowing Down as Spiritual Formation

Slowness isn’t a trend. It’s formation.

When we live at the pace of love, we become more present—more grateful, more compassionate, more aware. Slowing down allows us to notice not just God, but the people around us. We see beauty again. We listen deeply. We become more like Christ—who was never in a hurry.

Pete Scazzero argues that emotional health and spiritual maturity are inseparable. You can’t be spiritually mature while remaining emotionally immature. And emotional maturity requires slowing down long enough to notice what’s going on inside of us.

Spiritual formation, at its core, is not about gaining more knowledge—it’s about becoming more like Christ. And Christ was never in a hurry.

Practical Ways to Begin

Start with a Sabbath hour
Establish a morning pause before screens or tasks
Take a tech break during meals or evenings
Go for unhurried walks
Try a silent prayer practice
Journal about your pace: Where do I feel rushed? Where can I slow down?

Slowing Down to Catch Up to Grace

Slowing down is not a detour on the path of spiritual growth—it is the path.

In the way of Jesus, slowness is not failure, weakness, or lost time. It’s how we return to ourselves. It’s how we make space for God. And it’s how we live into the truth that our identity is not in what we produce, but in who we are becoming.

The rhythms of Sabbath, rest, and silence aren’t spiritual accessories for the especially devout. They’re core practices for anyone who longs to live a life rooted in grace rather than driven by anxiety. In a world that constantly tells us to go faster, achieve more, and never stop—slowing down is an act of spiritual rebellion. It’s how we begin to reclaim our humanity.

When we resist the noise and busyness, we find that God is not hiding behind some spiritual finish line we must sprint to reach. He’s already here. In the stillness. In the breath. In the pause.

“Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” —Matthew 11:28

This isn’t a call to laziness or passivity. It’s a call to deeper engagement—with God, with yourself, and with the people around you. It’s a call to live at the pace of love.

So take a deep breath. Light a candle. Step outside. Be still. Let God set the tempo.

You don’t have to sprint to keep up with grace.

Grace is already keeping step with you.

What’s one small way you can practice slowness this week—physically, emotionally, or spiritually? Write it down. Commit to it. Invite God into it.