When the Weight Feels Like Too Much

I’ve been carrying things I haven’t said out loud to anyone else —
but I’ve been saying them to the Lord for a very long time.
I’ve whispered them in prayers when no one was around.
I’ve wept over them in the quiet hours.
I’ve laid them down at Jesus’ feet more times than I can count.
But somewhere along the way, I picked them back up again.
Not because I wanted to — but because it’s hard sometimes to keep trusting, to keep believing, to keep surrendering when the answers are slow or the pain is sharp.
When my trust in God falters, I start clinging to control.
I get anxious.
I freeze.
I stop working toward my goals, my responsibilities, my calling.
And even though I’ve met God in that surrender before — even though I know better — I still find myself trying to do life in my own strength.
Every time I come back to Him — again and again — He reminds me:
“My yoke is easy. My burden is light.”
“You were never meant to carry this alone.”
“Cast all your cares on Me, because I care for you.” (1 Peter 5:7)
He doesn’t roll His eyes.
He doesn’t accuse me of weak faith.
He just welcomes me — again — into grace.
I’m learning that trusting God isn’t something I graduate from.
It’s something I return to.
Every day. Every hour, if I need to.
Surrender isn’t a one-time event.
It’s a rhythm. A practice. A relationship.
And it means showing up — even when I’m tired.
Even when I’m discouraged.
Even when I’m disappointed by what hasn’t happened yet.
I have to come back to the truth:
God is still writing my story.
Even when it’s slow.
Even when it’s silent.
Even when I feel like I’ve fallen behind.
I don’t have to be perfect to keep going.
I just have to trust Him enough to move forward —
one surrendered step at a time.
But maybe you’re like me — maybe you’ve been asking,
“What does that even look like right now?”
Here are a few small but powerful ways I’ve learned to surrender — again — even when I feel stuck:
1. Start the day with one honest sentence to God.
You don’t need the right words. Just true ones.
Maybe it’s:
“God, I’m tired.”
“I’m scared to hope again.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“I want to trust You, but I’m struggling.”
Speak it out loud if you know it.
And if you can’t speak it, write it down.
But don’t stop there.
Sit with it. Reflect on it. Use it to journal for two, three, maybe five minutes.
Because the goal isn’t just to be honest with God — it’s also to be honest with yourself.
That’s where real surrender begins:
in the space where your words and your heart finally match.
Where you stop editing your faith and start experiencing it.
2. Do the next right thing — not all the things.
You don’t need to finish the race today. Just take the next faithful step.
I have a habit — maybe you do too — of overwhelming myself with all the steps I think I need to take to “fix” my life. I over-schedule. I overthink. I try to solve everything at once.
And before I know it, I’m paralyzed.
Because when everything feels equally important, nothing gets done.
One of the most freeing things God has taught me is this: I don’t have to do it all right now.
I can choose the next right thing — the one step that matters most in this moment — and give myself permission to release the rest.
That means choosing to make the call, send the email, clean the room, or go for a walk.
It means trusting that I’ll come back to the other things when the time is right — and not seeing it as failure when I don’t tackle everything at once.
Faithful living isn’t frantic. It’s focused.
Choose what matters most today — and let God lead you one step at a time.
3. Interrupt the lie with one truth.
The thoughts we don’t take captive will eventually take hold of us. That’s why speaking truth matters — but sometimes just saying it once isn’t enough.
For me, it helps to write it down — not just mentally agree with it, but physically write it somewhere I can return to. I’ll post it on a mirror, on the wall near my desk, or on the lock screen of my phone. Sometimes I record myself saying the truth out loud, just so I can hear it when my mind forgets.
And when I’m not sure what the truth is?
I go looking for it.
I’ll search God’s Word. I’ll use a Bible app or even type my emotions into Google followed by “Bible verse” — and more often than not, the Spirit will lead me to exactly what I need. Because I believe God honors our searching. And I’ve learned not to stop looking for the truth — because the truth is what sets me free.
“Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” — John 8:32
Let truth become more than a phrase — let it become the foundation you keep returning to, over and over again.
4. Ask for help — and receive it.
Surrender isn’t weakness. It’s wisdom.
You weren’t created to carry your burdens alone. If the weight feels too much, I urge you — seek out your pastor, your church elders, or a trusted Christian counselor. These people are not just available; they are called to help carry the load with you.
There is no shame in reaching out for help. There is courage in being honest about your struggle and opening your heart to godly support and counsel.
Let the Body of Christ hold space for you. Let others pray for you, walk with you, speak truth over you. Sometimes, that’s exactly how God brings the healing you’ve been asking for.
And if you don’t have a supportive church home — don’t let that keep you isolated. There are still faithful, trusted communities and resources available online. There are Christian therapists, pastors, and support ministries who will stand in the gap with you. You are not alone — and you don’t have to do this by yourself anymore.

5. Rest before you quit.
Rest isn’t weakness. It’s resistance — against the hustle, the pressure, the weight that tries to crush you when you’re already tired.
Just last week, I took a Sabbath and a mental health leave from work.
I stepped away from my responsibilities — not because I didn’t care, but because I did.
Because I was spiraling into a frenzy of overwhelm and I knew I couldn’t keep pouring from an empty soul.
But let me be clear: rest wasn’t just doing nothing.
I was purposeful with my Sabbath.
I sought the Lord.
I read His Word.
I even read Christian fiction — letting truth and beauty slip into my heart through story.
I said no to everything.
I deleted social media apps.
I turned off notifications for work email.
I created space to breathe and protect my peace.
I scheduled an extra therapy session to talk through what I was feeling and the deeper reasons I hit a wall.
I met with my medication manager to evaluate whether adjustments were needed — because I wanted to care for my mind, not just my emotions.
Rest isn’t passive. It’s intentional.
It’s not about being frozen or paralyzed — it’s about being still and knowing the Lord is with you, walking with you each hour, each day.
When you feel like quitting, maybe what you really need is permission to rest.
To reset your nervous system.
To let God carry what you were never meant to hold alone.
You don’t have to know the whole path.
You just have to trust the next step to the One who does.
Let’s be women who keep showing up.
Who keep casting our cares.
Who keep trusting God not just in our strength — but in our surrender.
One step at a time.
One prayer at a time.
One faithful breath at a time.
God is still writing your story.
And He is not done with you yet.
If this spoke to you today, I’d love to hear from you.
Leave a comment, share your story, or send me a message.
You don’t have to walk through the weight alone —
and I’m honored to be someone walking alongside you.
If this encouraged you today, would you consider sharing it?
You never know who else might be carrying a silent weight – your share might be the reminder they didn’t know they needed.
Your Next Step Could Be This Simple:
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With grace for the journey,
Regina
