“The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught. He said to them, ‘Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.’” (Mark 6:30)

How many parents among us have locked ourselves in the bathroom just to have a quiet moment? How many of us who live with another person have wished, this year, that we could have just a little more space for ourselves? How many of us have ever left a quick message with the boss to say that we need to take a personal day—and left off the crucial but rude, “and the person I need a day away from is you!”

It’s often the case, of course, that the moment we most badly need to get away is the one when it’s impossible. The kids soon start banging on the door. The stressful week at work is exactly the reason you can’t play hookie for a day. In this strange and isolating year, at times the only person you’ve been able to see is precisely the one you can’t stand listening to any more.

Jesus knew exactly how we feel. “Come away,” Jesus says to his disciples in this Sunday’s gospel, “and rest a while.” But the people won’t let them rest. “Many saw them going and recognized them,” Mark continues, “and they hurried there on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them,” so that by the time that Jesus steps foot off the boat, a great crowd has already assembled.

And so he cares for them and tries again.

Time and again, Jesus goes away by himself to pray, or think, or rest. Time and again, he’s interrupted. And time and again, he patiently and graciously returns, in the hope that one day, it just might work out.

It’s this pattern that defines our relationship to rest. The big vacation, the long-awaited retreat, the much-anticipated retirement are not the point so much as the morning walk, the quiet moment waiting in the car, the Saturday morning spent with coffee cup in hand. It’s not that these bigger breaks are bad; it’s that they’re brittle, so easy to miss if one thing goes awry. But if I miss a single morning walk, or if I take a phone call in the car, I’ll simply try to rest again the next day.

Summer is a time of rest for many of us. (For others, of course, it’s busier than ever!) Some of us feel they’ve been resting for a year and a half. (And others, have course, have never felt less rested!) But wherever this summer finds you, I pray you might find little ways to rest throughout the changing times—whatever interruptions life may bring.