There is a kind of unrest that isn’t born of sin, fear, or rebellion. It’s not the kind of turmoil that comes from wandering far from God or making destructive choices. It’s something else entirely. A holy restlessness. A stirring in the soul that unsettles you, not away from God, but toward something you cannot yet name. You’re not walking in disobedience—but you’re not at peace either. You’re grateful, yet unsettled. Present, but not rooted. You feel as though you’re meant to go—but you don’t know where. Or stay—but you don’t know why.
This is not unique. This is not strange. In fact, it may be sacred.
Biblical Examples of Holy Restlessness
Throughout Scripture, we see men and women who felt the weight of displacement—not because of sin or failure, but because of divine purpose being stirred within them. They experienced holy restlessness before redirection. Their sense of discomfort became the soil where God’s greater purposes took root.
Abraham (Genesis 12)
Abraham wasn’t in crisis when God called him. He had family, land, and wealth. Yet God interrupted the security of “home” with a holy summons: “Go from your country… to the land I will show you.” He didn’t give Abraham a map—just a mandate. The call was clear, but the direction was vague. Leave everything and follow. It was restlessness that led to obedience.
Moses (Exodus 2–3)
Before God ever spoke from the burning bush, Moses felt out of place. Raised in Pharaoh’s palace but born a Hebrew, he lived with dual identities and no true belonging. His first attempt to act on that tension (killing an Egyptian) ended poorly. He fled, confused, isolated, and distant. For 40 years he worked in obscurity. But then God called—not out of the blue, but into the restlessness that had been planted long before.
Nehemiah (Nehemiah 1)
Nehemiah lived in the palace of the Persian king—a high-ranking position of influence. Yet when he heard of the desolation of Jerusalem, he wept. He fasted. He prayed. Something broke in him. He was far from the ruins, but his heart was drawn to them. That restlessness launched one of the greatest rebuilding efforts in Scripture.
These stories matter because they remind us: spiritual discontent is sometimes the very tool God uses to redirect our lives.
Restlessness as a Sign of Divine Disruption
Holy restlessness is not confusion for its own sake. It’s not aimless dissatisfaction. It’s not just boredom. It’s the Spirit of God stirring something deeper, exposing misalignment between where you are and where He’s calling you next.
You might feel:
- An ache that you’re not where you’re supposed to be.
- A yearning for more than your current rhythms provide.
- A nudge that you’ve outgrown the current assignment—not out of pride, but purpose.
- A discontent that isn’t rooted in entitlement, but longing to obey more fully.
If you’re experiencing this, you’re not broken. You’re being invited.
We often assume that peace is the only sign of God’s will. But sometimes the absence of peace is the signal that He’s preparing you for a shift. Not all discomfort is discipline—some is divine direction. God disturbs before He moves.
When You Don’t Know What to Do With It
One of the hardest parts of holy restlessness is not knowing what to do next. You may feel burdened to change, but don’t have the details. You want to obey, but lack instruction. Like Abraham, Moses, or Nehemiah, you feel the shift before you see the strategy.
So what do you do?
1. Bring it to God, not social media.
Resist the urge to crowdsource your calling. Others may mean well, but they can’t interpret a divine stirring for you. Only God can give clarity on what He’s awakening in you. Go to Him in prayer. Fast. Be quiet enough to listen. Speak less. Seek more.
2. Stay faithful in the last assignment.
If God hasn’t opened a door, don’t kick one down. Restlessness is not license for recklessness. David waited years between his anointing and his throne. Joseph dreamed of leadership long before prison and famine. Don’t despise the waiting. Finish well. Let God release you—not your impatience.
3. Open your hands, not just your heart.
Be willing to let go of your timeline, your career path, your assumptions, even your location if He asks. Don’t just be restless—be surrendered. Holy restlessness is meant to loosen your grip on the comfortable so God can lead you into the transformational.
4. Discern between spiritual stirring and fleshly dissatisfaction.
Not every desire for change is from the Lord. Sometimes we’re discontent because we’re comparing. Or we’re tired. Or we want recognition. Take your motives before the Lord. He will expose and refine them. Holy restlessness is marked by humility, not ambition.
Restlessness Doesn’t Mean You’re Lost
One of the biggest lies the enemy whispers in seasons of spiritual unrest is that you’re lost, failing, or forgotten. But biblically, that’s often when someone is most on the brink of breakthrough.
Consider Jesus Himself.
He spent thirty years largely hidden, then forty days in the wilderness—led there by the Spirit—not to be punished, but to be prepared. Even Christ experienced divine dislocation before stepping into His public ministry. The discomfort wasn’t punishment. It was positioning.
What If You Never Get the Full Picture?
Holy restlessness often comes without answers. But God rarely gives the full map. He gives light for the next step.
Hebrews 11 is filled with people who “died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off.” (v.13). They moved forward without full clarity because they trusted the One who called them.
That’s the heart of holy restlessness. It doesn’t demand all the answers. It says, “I’ll stay if You want. I’ll go if You send. But I won’t ignore the stirring You’ve placed in my spirit.”
Final Word: Let the Stirring Lead You to the Savior
If you feel like you don’t quite belong where you are anymore—spiritually, vocationally, or relationally—don’t rush to fix it. Bring it to God. Sit in it. Let it break you open in prayer.
God never wastes restlessness. He uses it to realign, to redirect, and to refine. Even if you don’t know the destination, you can trust the Shepherd. You’re not abandoned. You’re being invited. The ache you feel might not be the absence of God—but the evidence of His hand, moving you toward something more.
Let the discomfort lead you to deeper communion. Let the restlessness fuel your dependence. Let the unease create space for surrender. You don’t have to see the whole path—just the next step.
He’s not trying to confuse you. He’s calling you.
sethmglazier.com 
Leave a comment