Mark 6:30–32
After a stretch of ministry success, the disciples return to Jesus energized — and exhausted. They’ve been teaching, healing, casting out demons, pouring themselves out for others. But Jesus doesn’t throw them a party or push them to keep the momentum going. Instead, He says:
“Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while.” Mark 6:31
It’s one of the most human moments in the Gospels. The Son of God looks at His friends and says: You need a break.
The text goes on to tell us “they had no leisure even to eat.” That kind of frantic pace might feel familiar. When the wins stack up — in ministry, in business, even in our relationships — it’s easy to just keep going. There’s always another need, another opportunity, another demand.
But Jesus isn’t necessarily impressed by momentum. He knows the African Proverb that says, “If you want to go fast, go alone; if you want to go far, go together.” And to do that, his disciples needed to time alone with God. So he invites His disciples to step away from the noise and find rest with Him.
We’re not machines. We’re not productivity apps. We’re not Energizer bunnies, no matter how many Red Bulls we drink or how accessible ChatGPT makes everything. We are embodied souls with limits. And Jesus knows that.
That’s why solitude isn’t a luxury for the spiritual elite — it’s survival for anyone who wants to live with a quiet center in a noisy world.
Dallas Willard once wrote,
“Solitude well practiced will break the power of busyness, haste, isolation, and loneliness. You will see that the world is not on your shoulders after all. You will find yourself, and God will find you in new ways.”
Solitude helps hedge burnout. But there’s something more painful underneath it. t’s not just burnout solitude guards against. It’s loneliness.
The irony is that constant performance — even if it’s ministry or good work — can leave you feeling isolated. When you’re always leading, speaking, serving, creating… you can start to wonder if people love you or just what you produce. When that cycle goes unbroken, you can lose yourself. You might even forget how to be with God apart from your usefulness.
That’s why solitude matters.
Henri Nouwen says:
“A life without a lonely place, that is, a life without a quiet center, easily becomes destructive. When we cling to the results of our actions as our only way of self-identification… we become possessive and defensive.”
In solitude, we are reminded that we are not what we produce. We are not the sum of our sermons, songs, strategies, or spreadsheets. In solitude, we stop performing for others and for God and start listening to God. We unmask the illusion that our worth is tied to what we do — and we begin to remember that anything we’ve ever done or said is a gift, not a brand. It’s in solitude we are made free to fail.
Nouwen continues:
“It’s there we recognize that the healing words we speak are not just our own, but are given to us; that the love we can express is part of a greater love…”
Contrast that with the lyrics from Wilco’s haunting song “How to Fight Loneliness.”
“How to fight loneliness, Smile all the time. Shine your teeth ’til meaningless, sharpen them with lies.”
It’s a haunting image of self-protection — fighting loneliness with masks, performance, a fake smile and telling lies just to get by. Fit in. Keep everyone at arms length.
Thank God Jesus offers a better way.
He invites us to come away. To rest. To be with Him in the quiet. Not after we crash, but before. And to build that in as a rhythm, so as to keep at arms length the insidious tentacles of a world that wants to keep us plugged in and performing, all the way to the grave.
So take the invitation seriously. Go to a desolate place — not to disconnect, but to reconnect. Let your spirit catch up with your body. Let God love you apart from your output. That’s where the healing happens. That’s how to fight loneliness. That’s where you’re reminded: your life is not a possession to defend, but a gift to receive.