In these times, God's people must trust him for rest of body and

The words of David Wilkerson—“In these times, God’s people must trust Him for rest of body and soul”—resound like a clarion call to weary hearts. They speak to an age of turmoil, uncertainty, and unrest, when both the flesh and the spirit are battered by fear, anxiety, and unending labor. In this cry, Wilkerson reminds the faithful that true rest does not come from the fleeting comforts of this world, nor from the strength of human will, but from the eternal hand of God. The body may be weary from toil, the soul restless from sorrow, yet in trust lies the doorway to peace.

The origin of this saying lies in Wilkerson’s ministry, especially during times of cultural upheaval and moral confusion. As the founder of the Times Square Church and the author of The Cross and the Switchblade, he spoke often to those broken by addiction, poverty, and despair. He saw firsthand that worldly promises of relief—pleasure, wealth, power—could never give lasting rest. His words were a summons to a deeper faith, to place both body and soul into the keeping of the Lord, for only there is a rest that no storm can shatter.

History itself testifies to this truth. Consider the Hebrew people in the wilderness. Their bodies groaned under the heat of the desert, and their souls trembled with fear of hunger and enemies. Yet again and again, God commanded them to trust—for manna came with the dawn, water flowed from the rock, and victory was given when they believed. When they trusted, they found rest even in a barren land; when they doubted, their hearts grew restless, and their strength withered. Wilkerson’s words echo this ancient lesson: that rest is not the absence of trial, but the presence of faith.

The meaning of his message is twofold. First, that human strength is insufficient; even the strongest will falter when storms rage long enough. Second, that soul-rest is as vital as rest for the body, for without peace within, even a comfortable life becomes a burden. To trust God is to lay down the heavy yoke of fear and to find in Him a place of refuge. His rest is not idleness but renewal, not escape but strength, not forgetfulness but assurance.

Consider also the story of Corrie ten Boom, who suffered in the Nazi concentration camps. Stripped of health, freedom, and even family, she yet testified that the presence of Christ gave her rest in the darkest nights. Her body was in chains, but her soul was free. She trusted, and in that trust, she endured. This real-life witness illuminates Wilkerson’s words: that in the most trying times, when the world offers no comfort, the faithful find rest in God’s embrace.

The lesson for us today is clear. In an age of constant noise, of endless striving, of hearts restless with worry, we must choose to trust. Trust that God provides, even when we cannot see the way. Trust that He carries the burdens we cannot bear. Trust that He renews both body and soul, not once, but daily, as the manna fell anew each morning. Without this trust, we collapse under the weight of life; with it, we rise, refreshed, even in the midst of trial.

Practically, this means setting aside moments each day to rest in God—through prayer, through silence, through reading His Word. It means releasing anxieties we cling to, laying them at His feet. It means practicing Sabbath in spirit, even when labor presses hard, remembering that rest is not earned but received as a gift of faith. And it means reminding one another—family, friends, community—that no storm is greater than the peace God offers to those who trust Him.

Thus, David Wilkerson’s words endure as both comfort and command: “In these times, God’s people must trust Him for rest of body and soul.” Let this truth echo across the generations: that peace is not found in the shifting sands of the world, but in the eternal Rock. Trust Him, and your body shall find renewal, your soul shall find calm, and you shall walk through chaos with a heart anchored in divine rest.