By Gonny 
This morning I read Lesson 109 from A Course in Miracles, and I instantly felt like tearing up my to-do list, stuffing my phone in a sock, and hanging a sign on my door that says: “Do not disturb. I rest in God.”
Seriously, this lesson is like a soft blanket with a built-in mute button. No fancy spiritual jargon, no complicated theories. Just a simple sentence with superpowers: “I rest in God.”
And suddenly, everything goes quiet. Even my inner commentator, you know, that voice that says there’s still so much to do, that it’s not enough yet, that you should be doing something else. Today, that voice gets to take a nap too.
So what is this lesson really saying?
That there’s a place in you the world can’t reach. No noise, no stress, no clashing dreams (yes, I had a few of those last night). Just calm. And not just any calm, the kind that makes birds with broken wings sing again. Poetic? Yes. But also surprisingly practical.
Try this:
You take five minutes to truly rest in God. You close your eyes. Breathe in. And out. No drama, no headlines, no notifications. Just Being.
And in that very moment, somewhere in the world, someone smiles. A crying child stops. A dry stream begins to flow again. (Or your leaking tap finally stops, that counts too.)
What if your rest is healing?
Not just for you, but for everyone connected to your mind. And that’s more people than you think, even if they seem far away, caught up in their own whirlwind of doing.
Today we’re not humans doing. We’re lighthouses of peace, simply being.
We become temples with open doors, where anyone can come to rest. Even your tired body. Even your thoughts about the future.
Because you know what? God’s peace doesn’t need a passport. No schedule. No performance. Only this quiet willingness: I rest in God.
So, if someone asks you what you did today, just smile and say:
“I was healing the world today. Silently. With my eyes closed. And a nice cup of tea.”
With love and light,
G.