Some seasons hit harder than others, don’t they?
Even when you’re doing all the things.
Even when you’re showing up for everyone else.
Even when there’s technically nothing wrong—your chest can still tighten, your thoughts can still race, and your body can still beg you to slow down.
I remember one of those seasons.
It was a swirl of caregiving, teaching, end-of-year performances, unexpected emotional anniversaries, and the kind of fear you can’t quite name. Graeme had broken both arms. We were managing—but barely. I was feeding him, dressing him, bathing him. Loving him. All while running a full-time job, managing a recital, and holding space for a marriage, a family, and a future that felt fragile.
I sat with God one morning and all I could say was: I give up.
Not in a hopeless way—but in a surrendering way.
I let go. I handed it over. I couldn’t fix it all, carry it all, or know it all. But I could choose to trust.
Maybe that’s where you are right now.
Maybe trust feels like the only way forward. Maybe you’re handing over fears about your kids, your partner, your work, your purpose, your health. Maybe you're not even sure what you’re handing over—just… something.
And that’s okay.
You don’t need words for the weight you carry in order to lay it down.
You just need the willingness to open your hands.
Because here’s what I’ve learned: God never needed us to be perfect.
Just present. Just willing. Just honest.
So if today feels heavy, here’s what you can ask Him to do:
– Calm the panic you can’t explain
– Lift the weight you don’t understand
– Send little bursts of peace through your ordinary day
Dear Little Girl,
You were allowed to be tired then, and you’re allowed to be tired now.
You’re allowed to say, This feels like too much.
You’re allowed to need help.
And you are still good.
Still faithful.
Still held.
A Question to Journal On:
What are you handing over to God today?
A Prayer for the Heavy Days:
Dear God,
Sometimes I don’t even know what’s wrong—I just feel off.
My heart is heavy, my mind is noisy, and I can’t find the words for the swirl inside. But I’m here. And I know You are too.
Take what I can’t name.
Hold what I can’t carry.
Give me the peace that passes understanding.
Some days I want to be joyful… but today I just need to be held.
So hold me.
Love me.
Whisper truth back into my soul.
I surrender. Take care of everything.
Amen.
With open hands,
Worthy