For a young nurse overwhelmed by life’s noise, the Sabbath became more than a day of rest — it became the gentle stream where God washed away her fear, quieted her mind, and restored her joy.

By Raffy Castillo 

The Noise That Wouldn’t Stop

At 29, Anna Llaneza looked like she had everything under control. She was a competent ER nurse in a busy Quezon City hospital, known for her quick hands and steady mind. But inside, she was drowning.

Sirens. Monitors. Alarms. Crying relatives. Endless demands from patients and staff.

Her world was a constant hum of urgency.

When she came home after her shifts, her ears rang and her thoughts raced. Instead of sleeping, she replayed every case — what she said, what she missed, what she wished she had done better.

“I couldn’t turn the noise off,” she said. “Even in silence, my mind was loud.”

Stress headaches became normal. Palpitations appeared. Eventually, her doctor told her gently:

“You’re not sick; you’re overstimulated. You need rest — real rest.”

Anna laughed nervously. “Rest? In my schedule? Impossible.”

But God had other plans.

A Chance Encounter with Peace

One Friday afternoon, while commuting home, Anna overheard a woman humming a hymn — “It Is Well With My Soul.”

The melody tugged at her heart with a sweetness she hadn’t felt in years.

At the next stop, the woman got off, leaving behind a small pamphlet on the seat. Anna picked it up.

It read:

“The Sabbath is God’s weekly gift of peace. Come, find rest for your soul.”

She almost cried.

It felt like God had slipped her a note on the train.

The First Sabbath by the Lake

The next morning — Saturday, the Sabbath — Anna decided to go somewhere quiet: La Mesa Ecopark.

No phone. No earbuds. No distractions.

Only a Bible, a notebook, and a bottle of water.

She sat on a wooden bench beside the lake. Ripples glimmered under the sunlight, birds cut across the sky, and the breeze felt like a long-awaited embrace.

She opened her Bible randomly and landed on Psalm 46:10:

“Be still, and know that I am God.”

Her breath caught.

“This is what I’ve been missing,” she whispered.

For the first time in months, she felt the tightness in her chest loosen. Tears fell — quiet, cleansing, like the waters before her.

“It was as if God was saying, ‘Stop trying to be strong for everyone. Let Me be strong for you.’”

The Rhythm of Sabbath Rest

Every Friday evening after that, Anna prepared for rest:

• She turned off unnecessary notifications

• Tidied her room

• Brewed tea

• Laid her Bible on her bedside table

And every Saturday, she went back to her lake — her “still waters” — to pray, breathe, read Scripture, and simply exist.

Her headaches eased.

Her sleep deepened.

Her heart calmed.

Her laughter returned — slowly, shyly, like a flower re-learning how to bloom.

Her coworkers noticed. “You’re different,” one said. “Quieter… but stronger.”

Anna smiled. “I found my quiet place.”

When God Speaks Softly

One Sabbath morning, she closed her eyes and asked God, “Why the lake?”

And the answer came gently:

“Because your life is waves. I want to be your calm.”

She realized then that the Sabbath wasn’t God asking her to withdraw from life —

It was God pulling her back into His life.

Into His rhythm.

Into His peace.

As she absorbed this truth, she wrote in her journal:

“I don’t need the world to quiet down before I can rest.

I only need to return to the One who quiets my soul.”

The Science of Waters and Rest

Modern research shows that time spent near natural water — lakes, rivers, the sea — activates the brain’s default mode network, reducing anxiety and restoring emotional clarity.

Pair that with the Sabbath’s spiritual practices — prayer, worship, reflection, gratitude — and the result is profound:

• Lower blood pressure

• Calmer heart rhythms

• Improved mood

• Sharper focus

• Deeper resilience

In other words:

The body heals when the soul is allowed to rest

The Sabbath She’ll Never Give Up

Now, every Sabbath, rain or shine, Anna returns to her lake — even if only in prayer when she can’t visit the park.

She lights a candle, turns the pages of her Bible, and listens to the quiet whisper of God.

“Rest, anak,” He seems to say.

“I’m here. I’ve always been.”

And she smiles, breathing in the peace that only the Sabbath can bring.

Reflection: The Still Waters Within

We all have a lake God wants to lead us to —

a place of serenity, of healing, of remembrance.

The Sabbath is that place.

A sanctuary in time.

A promise that even in life’s chaos, God’s peace remains steady.

For those who pause long enough to listen,

the Sabbath still whispers,

“Be still, My child. You are safe with Me.”

“The world was loud, but the Sabbath taught her to listen for God’s quiet voice again.”