When Grief Comes Again
Unexpected…Unwelcome…
That’s how grief enters my world.
Not once—but over and over again.
That is the work of loss.
There is no timetable. No expiration date. No finish line—at least not here in this world—for the ache and longing that mark grief’s presence.
And so often it comes when I least expect it.
A song I’ve heard a hundred times begins to play, and suddenly all I can hear is the sweet echo of a voice no longer beside me.
The smell of a favorite meal rises in the kitchen, and with it comes the quiet sting of remembering the Mom who cooked it best.
Beauty and pain, side by side.
And in that space, I find myself once again entering the valley I had hoped to leave behind—the valley of the shadow. But loss is not a place we pass through quickly. It is a process. A journey. It cannot be rushed, and there are no shortcuts.
Over time, I’ve come to recognize three realms of loss:
the loss of what was,
the loss of what could have been,
and the loss of what will never be.
There is the loss of what was.
I will forever miss Sunday night suppers at Mama’s house. The house that feels too quiet now still holds a treasury of laughter and love. I miss Elvis sing-alongs in my car, “Hello Darling” playing softly while the sunlight danced in her smile.
The memories are good.
But I miss her.
Then there is the loss of what could have been.
This one is harder. Almost like grief, part two.
It carries regret. And regret can spiral into endless cycles of self-blame—and sometimes even anger toward God. This is the “why” stage for me.
Why didn’t I take her shopping more often?
Why didn’t I linger longer?
How could I have been anywhere but at her side when she slipped into eternity?
Why?
But there is no going back. Only forward.
And that leads me to the final realm: the loss of what will never be.
There will be an empty seat at her grandchildren’s weddings.
The arms that would have held new babies in our family will never cradle them—not in our sight, anyway.
The loss of what will never be is, at its core, the slow work of letting go.
Here we are forced to loosen our grip on what was, and release the exhausting ache of what could have been. We cannot live in a “what if” world. We must keep walking.
My loved one died, yet I am alive.
She has reached Home, and I am still traveling.
Her pain is finished, her healing complete—yet my heart is still healing. And I am not there yet.
But I serve the very same Savior who welcomed her with open arms.
The One who healed her will, in His time, heal me.
The One who gathers broken pieces and creates something beautiful from them.
And there are glimmers—small rays of light that remind me He is holding me.
The tears still fall. And that’s okay. Tears cleanse. They soften.
Now, when I see the pain in others walking this road, I understand. I love differently—a softer, deeper kind of love.
His love.
After all, I hurt because I loved.
And love—even when it carries loss—is still a gift.
One I will open again and again.
.
Month: February 2026
When Grief Comes Again
When Grief Comes Again
“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.” — Psalm 23:4
Unexpected. Unwelcome.
That’s how grief enters—again and again.
There is no timetable for loss. No expiration date on longing. No finish line for the ache that settles into the heart when someone we love is no longer here. Grief does not politely announce its arrival. It appears in ordinary moments—a familiar song, the scent of a favorite meal, sunlight catching a memory just right.
Beauty and pain, side by side.
Just when we think we have moved beyond the valley, we find ourselves walking through it once more. But grief is not a place we pass through quickly. It is a journey. And there are no shortcuts.
Over time, I’ve come to see three realms of loss.
First, there is the loss of what was. The cherished routines. The laughter-filled rooms. The simple Sundays that once felt ordinary but now feel sacred. Memories remain—good and precious—but they do not replace presence. And so we miss them.
Then comes the loss of what could have been. This one often hurts more. It carries regret. The “why” questions surface. Why didn’t I stay longer? Why didn’t I say more? Why wasn’t I there? Regret can spiral into self-blame, and even anger toward God. But no amount of replaying the past can rewrite it. We cannot go back. We can only move forward.
Finally, there is the loss of what will never be. The empty seat at weddings. The arms that will never hold new babies. The milestones that will unfold without them beside us. This realm of loss requires something painfully difficult: letting go. Not forgetting—but releasing the life we imagined and entrusting it to God.
My loved one has reached Home. Her pain is finished. Her healing is complete. But I am still here. Still walking. Still healing.
And yet, I serve the same Savior who welcomed her. The One who gathers broken pieces and fashions beauty from them. In quiet ways, He reminds me that I am not alone in the valley.
The tears still fall. But tears cleanse and soften the heart. Grief has changed me. It has deepened my compassion. I see others differently now. I love differently—a softer, gentler love.
After all, I hurt because I loved.
And love—even when marked by loss—is still a gift.
One I will open again and again.
“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.” — Psalm 23:4
Unexpected. Unwelcome.
That’s how grief enters—again and again.
There is no timetable for loss. No expiration date on longing. No finish line for the ache that settles into the heart when someone we love is no longer here. Grief does not politely announce its arrival. It appears in ordinary moments—a familiar song, the scent of a favorite meal, sunlight catching a memory just right.
Beauty and pain, side by side.
Just when we think we have moved beyond the valley, we find ourselves walking through it once more. But grief is not a place we pass through quickly. It is a journey. And there are no shortcuts.
Over time, I’ve come to see three realms of loss.
First, there is the loss of what was. The cherished routines. The laughter-filled rooms. The simple Sundays that once felt ordinary but now feel sacred. Memories remain—good and precious—but they do not replace presence. And so we miss them.
Then comes the loss of what could have been. This one often hurts more. It carries regret. The “why” questions surface. Why didn’t I stay longer? Why didn’t I say more? Why wasn’t I there? Regret can spiral into self-blame, and even anger toward God. But no amount of replaying the past can rewrite it. We cannot go back. We can only move forward.
Finally, there is the loss of what will never be. The empty seat at weddings. The arms that will never hold new babies. The milestones that will unfold without them beside us. This realm of loss requires something painfully difficult: letting go. Not forgetting—but releasing the life we imagined and entrusting it to God.
My loved one has reached Home. Her pain is finished. Her healing is complete. But I am still here. Still walking. Still healing.
And yet, I serve the same Savior who welcomed her. The One who gathers broken pieces and fashions beauty from them. In quiet ways, He reminds me that I am not alone in the valley.
The tears still fall. But tears cleanse and soften the heart. Grief has changed me. It has deepened my compassion. I see others differently now. I love differently—a softer, gentler love.
After all, I hurt because I loved.
And love—even when marked by loss—is still a gift.
One I will open again and again.
Learning to Rest Guilt-Free
Rest? What’s that?
Today began like every other day, at least every other day lately…a day filled with to-do lists and grand expectations which I already knew could not, and dare I say, should not, be met.
And ya’ll it’s my day off! Yes, I hear what you’re saying, a day off has a purpose: rest. But why, oh why, does the idea of rest cast a shadow of guilt over me? Why do I hide in the Target aisle hoping no one sees that I took some time off just to …gulp…relax? Why do I feel guilty when I meet my friend for lunch instead of skipping lunch to finish a work project? Why will I not turn my phone on ‘do not disturb’ at the gym for that sweet 40 minutes of ‘me’ time? Why?
I want to be respectful and answer every text immediately. I want to answer that work call even though it is 10pm at night. I want to be patient with my elderly relative when he calls with the millionth request for information just because he is extremely lonely. But here’s the problem – I am exhausted, the well is dry.
This guilt of not being productive every second of every day can virtually eat me up. And my guess is, you know what I’m talking about. You know because you feel it too. It is crazy unhealthy behavior, and girl, we’ve got to figure it out.
So to that end, I have been doing some knee-deep soul searching and think maybe, just maybe, I might have an idea. It’s just a little inkling of an idea, but we have to start somewhere. So like a tiny candle in an immense darkness, let’s see if we can make our way out of this self-imposed prison of guilt. Let’s jump off that treadmill of neverending chores to see if we can learn a fantastic secret. Shhh…are you ready?
I have allowed my spiritual gifts to become my spiritual liabilities.
And all God’s girls say ‘Ouch’. How in the world does that happen? You’ve probably heard the saying, ‘Too much of a good thing is a bad thing.’
Mercy present in your life? Fantastic! Me too. Big gift I have. Compassion? Oh yeah! Can that gift be used incorrectly? Ummm…now we’re getting somewhere.
Mercy and compassion can be a gift God uses in our lives to love people and reach them with His love, or mercy and compassion can be a liability where we become distractions that take the focus off the fullness of God and point the camera straight at ourselves. It’s almost like we are saying, “It’s a huge, heavy burden, but hey everyone, you need me!”
Am I addicted to your approval?
Do we do it intentionally? Probably not.
But nonetheless, the result is the same.
I heard a story a long time ago about a gal happily pulling her little red wagon up a gentle, rolling hill. Now in my mind’s eye, that girl is smiling as the sun shines down on her and the birds sing cheerily. Now as the story goes, the girl encounters a fellow wagon-pulling friend who mentions that her wagon is kind of heavy and maybe could our smiling red-wagon gal just add one more rock to her wagon. Our girl is filled with compassion for this tired traveler and agrees. No big deal. Good deed is done, and the purposeful feeling of being a hero brings yet another smile from our red wagon pulling friend. But another and another and another wandering traveler needs just a bit of help until the red wagon is so heavy the smiling girl has lost her smile. The song in her heart has gone silent. No one meant to be a particular burden, honestly no one thought that much about it. The travelers head on lighter while the red wagon becomes unbearably heavy. Then our girl cries out to God asking why He allowed such a heavy load. I imagine the Lord’s response as He looks at her wagon filled with work that did not belong to her, burdens she wasn’t asked to bear, and pain never meant for her life. Maybe He might even say to her (and might the echo reach our ears,
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light”.
Matthew 11: 28-30
Our gift of mercy is not meant to exhaust us or, hear me, to fulfill us by extending ourselves as a lifeline to a desperate soul. No, our mercy is to showcase the mercy and compassion of the only One who can carry their burdens, and spoiler alert…it’s not me and you. We are to guide the weary travelers to Jesus, the only One able to save and give true rest.
Him. Not me.
So calm down, sister!
Despite how you and I feel, IF all those world weary travelers have wagons needing to get to the top of the hill, God will provide a way for them to get there.
And it might be you. But then again, it might not.
Or maybe, just maybe that wagon never needed to get up the dadgum hill in the first place. That’s a definite possibility we overachievers need to accept.
We can’t fix every problem. We can’t meet every need.
We will disappoint some. We must learn to lay down our burdens and rest.
How does the gift of mercy get so far askew? Obviously, I can’t speak to your specifics, but as for me, being a people pleaser that refuses to create boundaries might just be a good place to start.
Desperately, I want people to be happy. Hopelessly, I try to meet everyone’s needs. Painfully, I disappoint myself (and in my mind, everyone else) daily.
So here we are. Boundaries are essential and actually wonderful gifts the Lord gives us to protect His best plan for our lives when we just might be willing to give up the best for what the world says is our better. Did you catch that?
His best…Our better
Don’t be fooled. His best IS our best. Every time.
Alright, let’s do this – boundaries – what are they and why are they important?
The definition of a boundary is as follows, “A line that marks the limits of an area. A dividing line.”
A boundary is an honest, kind method of laying out our needs and expectations in such a way that those we connect with can understand.
This…right here…this is the limit. This is the dividing line.
I like to picture Gandalf as he stands guarding the bridge in The Lord of the Rings, “This far and no farther!”
We have to set our own boundaries because despite my hope that others would kindly honor mine…they won’t.
I’m not saying all people are bad and out to take advantage of you (you do it too you know), what I am saying is that we are self-focused. I mean, I’m me, and I think about me so yeah, it’s kind of all about me!
We are all this way. It’s that sin nature strutting its stuff in our lives.
Here’s the thing: No one is going to respect a boundary they can’t see.
Creating a clarity of boundary lines is my job.
Keeping it firmly established despite those who might push back? Also…my job.
Yes, it is good to be helpful and kind, but that does not mean I have to be available 24/7 to every person in my life.
Yes, it is right to do my very best at work, but I am not doing anyone any good if I burn out.
Yes, my family needs me, but I am not helping them if I become a crutch that takes their dependence off Jesus and places it on myself.
We have to be willing to disappoint people from time to time.
We have to learn to be okay with others struggling under their own load.
And if they fill their wagons with the wrong load, that is not your fault.
Back to that wagon, if we allow anyone except God to fill our little red wagons, we might make it up that stinking hill, but it will be a heavy burden. It will be a relentlessly difficult and joy-less journey. Don’t give up God’s best for your life.
Carry your own wagon, and let everyone else carry theirs. Just as God gives you strength for the journey, so will He give those around you the particular strength they need for their journey. Don’t rob them of a closer walk with Jesus.
Let me say it gently, my friends.
There is a time we are called to stand in the gap for others. We are to stand in the gap with prayers and love and obedience to God. But there is a big difference between standing in the gap and standing between another person and God’s purpose, perhaps even discipline that leads to repentance. One is done out of obedience to God and love for people, but the other tries to take a place meant only for the Creator and Savior.
When we don’t clearly lay out and stand by our boundaries, say no when it is not our best yes…then we are standing between other people and their walk with God.
Their spiritual growth and renewal is not yours to give or your burden to bear.
Lay it down.
For them, for you.
My people pleasing friends, hear me when I say this:
Their expectations are not your responsibility.
Did you listen?
I’m gonna say it again: Their expectations are not your responsibility.
I know, saying it is one thing but putting it into practice is quite another. It’s hard.
I GET IT 100%. If you know me, you know this is an area of continual struggle. So we are in this together.
So maybe let’s talk about the practical aspects of being a recovering people pleaser who is allowing the gracious gifts of mercy and compassion to be misused, abused, and otherwise unhealthily wielded.
Part of being a people pleaser is feeling like you literally CANNOT rest. At least not in peace. Folks like to say “Rest in Peace” when someone passes from this life. I think I can more fully recognize the beauty in that statement. But here’s the thing: I want to learn to rest in peace in the here and now.
According to Scripture, we don’t have to wait for Heaven for rest.
Let’s go back to our verses from earlier:
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light”.
Matthew 11:28-30
Look at some key words with me.
Come…we willingly bring our burdens to Jesus.
Rest…he alone gives rest.
And look at this next part: “Take My yoke…” God isn’t saying rest means the absence of work! Don’t miss this. Work is a wonderful part of our calling, but the easy and light work is when we carry His yoke, not our own. He has given us good gifts to bless others, magnify Him, and all while giving us rest for our souls. Rest is embedded into His work. If the work we are doing is a burden, then we are either not doing it in His strength or we are doing the wrong work.
Rest is a holy gift from a good Father. And might I add, God didn’t just suggest rest, in fact, He commanded it.
So ease off on the guilt.
When we rest, we are not being selfish. We are being obedient.
Rest and renewal are built into us just as surely as the seasons change in their time. Just like the earth, we are built for seasons of rest. The newness of spring gives way to the growth of summer and then to autumn’s harvest, but watch this, all of these times of growth and work are followed by a season of rest.
The earth rests.
Don’t be ashamed to rest. It is a gift of God. And for the sake of our sanity, our joy, and our witness, we must get this right.
You may have patiently listened to my long-winded people pleasing admission and think to yourself, “Well, thank goodness that’s not me. I know how to say no.”
Well, good for you.
But ummm…might you know someone who is struggling to say no? Could you be a part of their struggle? Are you part of the reason someone can’t seem to get that boundary built before tearing it down with their own hands to please you and meet your needs?
Okay, enough said.
I’m just saying, we can all do better.
I prefer to build bridges and not boundaries.
I’d honestly rather work than rest, it makes me feel valuable and needed.
But girls, I want to walk in full obedience with my Lord. And to do that, I need to clear out my wagon and wait for Him to fill it up.
And I need, oh how desperately I need, to rest.
Let’s make a pact. We can do this together. Find a Jesus loving sister and ask her to hold you accountable.
Pick up your chalk and get to drawing that boundary.
I see you! Put that eraser down. We are strong, we are capable, we are tired. But we are going to do better.
We are going to learn to rest. God said so, and I say, “Yes, Lord.”
P.S. Oh, and if you see me at Target trying to hide in the frozen food section pretending to be productively gathering groceries because I’m embarrassed to be wandering the aisles with no goal in mind…please just smile and be on your way. We’re all a work in progress. This girl is learning to rest and let go of perfection filled expectations.
Today began like every other day, at least every other day lately…a day filled with to-do lists and grand expectations which I already knew could not, and dare I say, should not, be met.
And ya’ll it’s my day off! Yes, I hear what you’re saying, a day off has a purpose: rest. But why, oh why, does the idea of rest cast a shadow of guilt over me? Why do I hide in the Target aisle hoping no one sees that I took some time off just to …gulp…relax? Why do I feel guilty when I meet my friend for lunch instead of skipping lunch to finish a work project? Why will I not turn my phone on ‘do not disturb’ at the gym for that sweet 40 minutes of ‘me’ time? Why?
I want to be respectful and answer every text immediately. I want to answer that work call even though it is 10pm at night. I want to be patient with my elderly relative when he calls with the millionth request for information just because he is extremely lonely. But here’s the problem – I am exhausted, the well is dry.
This guilt of not being productive every second of every day can virtually eat me up. And my guess is, you know what I’m talking about. You know because you feel it too. It is crazy unhealthy behavior, and girl, we’ve got to figure it out.
So to that end, I have been doing some knee-deep soul searching and think maybe, just maybe, I might have an idea. It’s just a little inkling of an idea, but we have to start somewhere. So like a tiny candle in an immense darkness, let’s see if we can make our way out of this self-imposed prison of guilt. Let’s jump off that treadmill of neverending chores to see if we can learn a fantastic secret. Shhh…are you ready?
I have allowed my spiritual gifts to become my spiritual liabilities.
And all God’s girls say ‘Ouch’. How in the world does that happen? You’ve probably heard the saying, ‘Too much of a good thing is a bad thing.’
Mercy present in your life? Fantastic! Me too. Big gift I have. Compassion? Oh yeah! Can that gift be used incorrectly? Ummm…now we’re getting somewhere.
Mercy and compassion can be a gift God uses in our lives to love people and reach them with His love, or mercy and compassion can be a liability where we become distractions that take the focus off the fullness of God and point the camera straight at ourselves. It’s almost like we are saying, “It’s a huge, heavy burden, but hey everyone, you need me!”
Am I addicted to your approval?
Do we do it intentionally? Probably not.
But nonetheless, the result is the same.
I heard a story a long time ago about a gal happily pulling her little red wagon up a gentle, rolling hill. Now in my mind’s eye, that girl is smiling as the sun shines down on her and the birds sing cheerily. Now as the story goes, the girl encounters a fellow wagon-pulling friend who mentions that her wagon is kind of heavy and maybe could our smiling red-wagon gal just add one more rock to her wagon. Our girl is filled with compassion for this tired traveler and agrees. No big deal. Good deed is done, and the purposeful feeling of being a hero brings yet another smile from our red wagon pulling friend. But another and another and another wandering traveler needs just a bit of help until the red wagon is so heavy the smiling girl has lost her smile. The song in her heart has gone silent. No one meant to be a particular burden, honestly no one thought that much about it. The travelers head on lighter while the red wagon becomes unbearably heavy. Then our girl cries out to God asking why He allowed such a heavy load. I imagine the Lord’s response as He looks at her wagon filled with work that did not belong to her, burdens she wasn’t asked to bear, and pain never meant for her life. Maybe He might even say to her (and might the echo reach our ears,
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light”.
Matthew 11: 28-30
Our gift of mercy is not meant to exhaust us or, hear me, to fulfill us by extending ourselves as a lifeline to a desperate soul. No, our mercy is to showcase the mercy and compassion of the only One who can carry their burdens, and spoiler alert…it’s not me and you. We are to guide the weary travelers to Jesus, the only One able to save and give true rest.
Him. Not me.
So calm down, sister!
Despite how you and I feel, IF all those world weary travelers have wagons needing to get to the top of the hill, God will provide a way for them to get there.
And it might be you. But then again, it might not.
Or maybe, just maybe that wagon never needed to get up the dadgum hill in the first place. That’s a definite possibility we overachievers need to accept.
We can’t fix every problem. We can’t meet every need.
We will disappoint some. We must learn to lay down our burdens and rest.
How does the gift of mercy get so far askew? Obviously, I can’t speak to your specifics, but as for me, being a people pleaser that refuses to create boundaries might just be a good place to start.
Desperately, I want people to be happy. Hopelessly, I try to meet everyone’s needs. Painfully, I disappoint myself (and in my mind, everyone else) daily.
So here we are. Boundaries are essential and actually wonderful gifts the Lord gives us to protect His best plan for our lives when we just might be willing to give up the best for what the world says is our better. Did you catch that?
His best…Our better
Don’t be fooled. His best IS our best. Every time.
Alright, let’s do this – boundaries – what are they and why are they important?
The definition of a boundary is as follows, “A line that marks the limits of an area. A dividing line.”
A boundary is an honest, kind method of laying out our needs and expectations in such a way that those we connect with can understand.
This…right here…this is the limit. This is the dividing line.
I like to picture Gandalf as he stands guarding the bridge in The Lord of the Rings, “This far and no farther!”
We have to set our own boundaries because despite my hope that others would kindly honor mine…they won’t.
I’m not saying all people are bad and out to take advantage of you (you do it too you know), what I am saying is that we are self-focused. I mean, I’m me, and I think about me so yeah, it’s kind of all about me!
We are all this way. It’s that sin nature strutting its stuff in our lives.
Here’s the thing: No one is going to respect a boundary they can’t see.
Creating a clarity of boundary lines is my job.
Keeping it firmly established despite those who might push back? Also…my job.
Yes, it is good to be helpful and kind, but that does not mean I have to be available 24/7 to every person in my life.
Yes, it is right to do my very best at work, but I am not doing anyone any good if I burn out.
Yes, my family needs me, but I am not helping them if I become a crutch that takes their dependence off Jesus and places it on myself.
We have to be willing to disappoint people from time to time.
We have to learn to be okay with others struggling under their own load.
And if they fill their wagons with the wrong load, that is not your fault.
Back to that wagon, if we allow anyone except God to fill our little red wagons, we might make it up that stinking hill, but it will be a heavy burden. It will be a relentlessly difficult and joy-less journey. Don’t give up God’s best for your life.
Carry your own wagon, and let everyone else carry theirs. Just as God gives you strength for the journey, so will He give those around you the particular strength they need for their journey. Don’t rob them of a closer walk with Jesus.
Let me say it gently, my friends.
There is a time we are called to stand in the gap for others. We are to stand in the gap with prayers and love and obedience to God. But there is a big difference between standing in the gap and standing between another person and God’s purpose, perhaps even discipline that leads to repentance. One is done out of obedience to God and love for people, but the other tries to take a place meant only for the Creator and Savior.
When we don’t clearly lay out and stand by our boundaries, say no when it is not our best yes…then we are standing between other people and their walk with God.
Their spiritual growth and renewal is not yours to give or your burden to bear.
Lay it down.
For them, for you.
My people pleasing friends, hear me when I say this:
Their expectations are not your responsibility.
Did you listen?
I’m gonna say it again: Their expectations are not your responsibility.
I know, saying it is one thing but putting it into practice is quite another. It’s hard.
I GET IT 100%. If you know me, you know this is an area of continual struggle. So we are in this together.
So maybe let’s talk about the practical aspects of being a recovering people pleaser who is allowing the gracious gifts of mercy and compassion to be misused, abused, and otherwise unhealthily wielded.
Part of being a people pleaser is feeling like you literally CANNOT rest. At least not in peace. Folks like to say “Rest in Peace” when someone passes from this life. I think I can more fully recognize the beauty in that statement. But here’s the thing: I want to learn to rest in peace in the here and now.
According to Scripture, we don’t have to wait for Heaven for rest.
Let’s go back to our verses from earlier:
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light”.
Matthew 11:28-30
Look at some key words with me.
Come…we willingly bring our burdens to Jesus.
Rest…he alone gives rest.
And look at this next part: “Take My yoke…” God isn’t saying rest means the absence of work! Don’t miss this. Work is a wonderful part of our calling, but the easy and light work is when we carry His yoke, not our own. He has given us good gifts to bless others, magnify Him, and all while giving us rest for our souls. Rest is embedded into His work. If the work we are doing is a burden, then we are either not doing it in His strength or we are doing the wrong work.
Rest is a holy gift from a good Father. And might I add, God didn’t just suggest rest, in fact, He commanded it.
So ease off on the guilt.
When we rest, we are not being selfish. We are being obedient.
Rest and renewal are built into us just as surely as the seasons change in their time. Just like the earth, we are built for seasons of rest. The newness of spring gives way to the growth of summer and then to autumn’s harvest, but watch this, all of these times of growth and work are followed by a season of rest.
The earth rests.
Don’t be ashamed to rest. It is a gift of God. And for the sake of our sanity, our joy, and our witness, we must get this right.
You may have patiently listened to my long-winded people pleasing admission and think to yourself, “Well, thank goodness that’s not me. I know how to say no.”
Well, good for you.
But ummm…might you know someone who is struggling to say no? Could you be a part of their struggle? Are you part of the reason someone can’t seem to get that boundary built before tearing it down with their own hands to please you and meet your needs?
Okay, enough said.
I’m just saying, we can all do better.
I prefer to build bridges and not boundaries.
I’d honestly rather work than rest, it makes me feel valuable and needed.
But girls, I want to walk in full obedience with my Lord. And to do that, I need to clear out my wagon and wait for Him to fill it up.
And I need, oh how desperately I need, to rest.
Let’s make a pact. We can do this together. Find a Jesus loving sister and ask her to hold you accountable.
Pick up your chalk and get to drawing that boundary.
I see you! Put that eraser down. We are strong, we are capable, we are tired. But we are going to do better.
We are going to learn to rest. God said so, and I say, “Yes, Lord.”
P.S. Oh, and if you see me at Target trying to hide in the frozen food section pretending to be productively gathering groceries because I’m embarrassed to be wandering the aisles with no goal in mind…please just smile and be on your way. We’re all a work in progress. This girl is learning to rest and let go of perfection filled expectations.