Every generation thinks it’s the one living through the biggest shift. And in many ways, it is.
The printing press changed everything. So did the plough. Steam. Electricity. The internet. And now – AI.

We like to call these moments ‘revolutions’ because they promise to flip the script. To free us. To make life easier, lighter, more efficient. Each one arrives like a prophecy fulfilled – less work, more leisure. Machines doing the heavy lifting so we can finally catch our breath.
But here we are. Still tired.
We were told the internet would mean more flexibility – more opportunity to work smarter. And yes, in some ways, it has. But it’s also meant emails at midnight. Notifications that never sleep. Side hustles just to stay afloat. And more comparison than community.
Now comes AI.
They say it’ll write for us. Think for us. Plan for us. Edit for us. Maybe even preach for us. They say it might finally unlock the four-day working week. Solve overwork. Deliver the freedom we’ve been waiting for.
But I’ve heard that before. And I’m only 25!
A pattern we keep repeating
Look back.
Before tractors and tools, preparing a field for sowing took days of labour. Then came new equipment. Suddenly, farmers could do more in less time. That sounds good – and in many ways, it was.
Only it didn’t stop there.
With more capacity came more expectation. You could plant more – so you should. You could harvest faster – so you must. Rest wasn’t the reward – it became the thing you had to justify.
Then came factories. Steam. Mass production. Machines to replace manual effort. No more spinning by hand. No more weaving for hours. Automation would free people up.
But what followed?
Long shifts. Child labour. An ever-increasing pressure to produce. More people working in harsher conditions than ever before.
And today? We’ve got computers in our pockets. Remote working. Calendar apps. Voice assistants. AI at our fingertips.
And yet.
I’ve never met anyone who said they feel truly free because of it.
The lie we keep believing
Every revolution sells the same story: “Soon, you won’t have to work so hard.”
But what actually happens is this – our definition of enough shifts. And we fill the gap with more.
More work. More expectation. More output. More comparison. More ambition dressed up as necessity.
We don’t use the time we’ve gained to rest – we use it to keep running.
We tell ourselves we’ll slow down when the next thing arrives. When AI levels out. When the team is bigger. When the kids are older. When the side project takes off. When the church is stable. When the mortgage is paid off.
But the truth is – unless we choose rest, it won’t choose us.
A word about Sabbath
I know the word Sabbath can feel heavy for some. Old-fashioned, even. Maybe it brings to mind strict rules, religious pressure, or something that feels out of touch with everyday life.
But for me, Sabbath doesn’t mean legalism or obligation.
It means stopping the ordinary. Choosing to pause. Making space to really connect – with God, yes – but also with others. It’s one day a week where I try not to perform, produce, or prove anything. I try to be present. To slow down. To listen. To enjoy what’s already here.
It’s not always tidy. But it is always special.
And in a world that never stops spinning, that kind of rest feels like a quiet rebellion.
Even Jesus switched off sometimes
Jesus healed. He taught. He travelled. He fed the hungry. He raised the dead.
But He also withdrew.
He went up mountains. Sat in boats. Stepped away from the crowd. He chose stillness. He embraced quiet. He prayed when there was still plenty left to do.
He knew the urgency of His mission – and He still chose rest.
Not because He was lazy. But because He was human. And because He understood this sacred truth: real work only flows from real rest.
Rest isn’t a schedule - it’s surrender
I’m not writing a manifesto. I’m not anti-tech or longing for some idealised, pre-digital world. I use AI. I appreciate the tools. I enjoy seeing what they can do.
But I am here to tell the truth.
And the truth is – if we’re waiting for technology to give us rest, we’re waiting for something it was never made to offer.
It’s not the tool that grants rest. It’s the choice.
It’s choosing to log off even when there’s more to do. It’s choosing to be with people – not just message them. It’s choosing to sit with God – not for productivity, but for presence. It’s choosing to say: this is enough. For now.
Because if we don’t claim that kind of rest, the tide of more will claim it for us.
Rest isn’t a break from the real world. It’s the real world breaking in.
The rest that actually restores
Jesus once said something that still catches me off guard every time I hear it:
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest... For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
Not no burden. But a better one.
One that doesn’t crush. One that doesn’t demand your every waking moment. One that doesn’t measure your worth by how productive you are.
His rest isn’t just about naps and early nights (though those are part of it). It’s about something deeper – knowing, in your bones, that you are not what you do.
It’s the kind of rest that lets you work from love, not for it. That fills your soul before you pour out. That roots you in grace before the next storm rolls in.
So what now?
AI might change the world. Scratch that – it already is. But it won’t make us rest.
That’s a decision we still have to make.
Sabbath isn’t a rule to follow – it’s a rhythm to return to. A pause in a hurried world. A whisper from Something Greater that says: you’re allowed to stop. You’re allowed to be.
And in that place, we might just rediscover what makes us human again.
So, I’m not waiting for technology to save me. I’m choosing rest. I’m choosing presence. I’m choosing the Jesus who says: come with me, and I will give you rest – not just for your body, but for your soul.
Josh | A Curious Follower
If you’ve made it this far – thank you. I’m currently editing a book I’ve been quietly working on, called The Radical Recall to Rest. It’ll be out later this year, and if this reflection resonated with you, the book explores these themes in more depth – reclaiming rhythm, rediscovering rest, and reimagining what Christian community might look like in a tired world. If you’re feeling worn out or wondering how to live well in this fast-shifting future, I’d love to invite you along on that journey when the time comes.
And if you're looking for something sooner – the next round of Growing with God taster sessions will be announced this Thursday. These are gentle, reflective online spaces where we slow down together, explore with curiosity, and consider what God might be saying in this season. Keep an eye out if that sounds like something you'd welcome.
But for now…just breathe.
In the meantime, feel free to share this post, leave a comment, or subscribe to stay in the loop. I’d love to continue the journey with you.