Trusting God’s Heart When You’re Tired of Trying

Lately, I’ve been running on empty.

Not because I’ve stopped believing—but because I’m exhausted from trying to keep it all together: faith, family, work, and everything in between. It’s like I’m stuck in this cycle of striving, digging myself into a hole that feels harder and harder to climb out of. I keep looking for change to bring peace, comfort—whatever “next” might fix the ache. I’ve crafted my escape plans, convinced that if I can just tweak one more thing, I’ll finally feel better.

It’s like I’m stuck in this cycle of striving, digging myself into a hole that feels harder and harder to climb out of.

But none of them seem to work. And in the quiet that follows each failed attempt, I’m reminded: striving and perfection are not the keys to God’s grace.

As someone who was raised in church and then stepped fully into ministry, I’ve grown used to measuring my worth by my output. Faithfulness became a checklist instead of a posture. And that’s why I’m tired. But oh, how grateful I am that this is not how it has to be.

I know I’m not alone. So many of us look around and see everything that needs fixing. Recently, we moved into a new home, a place that once felt perfect the moment we walked through it. Six months later, I catch myself obsessing over every little thing I’d like to change. And of course, it all feels like it needs to happen right now. That mindset has bled into my whole life. I have what I once prayed for—a loving husband, sweet (and sometimes wild) kids, a quiet neighborhood. I have the answered prayers. And yet, I still wrestle with the feeling that it could all be just a little better—if only I tried harder.

I have what I once prayed for—a loving husband, sweet (and sometimes wild) kids, a quiet neighborhood. I have the answered prayers. And yet, I still wrestle with the feeling that it could all be just a little better—if only I tried harder.

But then I remember Jesus’ invitation: “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” — Matthew 11:28 Not more effort. Not more perfection. Rest. A pastor recently said something that stopped me in my tracks: “You are faithful.” I was genuinely surprised. How could that be? Hadn’t I been dropping the ball, falling short, falling behind? And yet—he was right. I have been faithful. Not perfect, but present. Not always put together, but committed.

There are always areas of life that could be better. That’s true. But faithfulness isn't about constantly doing more—it’s about continually turning toward Jesus, even when we feel worn out and weary. So if you’re in a season of tired trying, hear this: God is not asking you for more effort. He’s offering you more grace. Let’s learn to rest in that.

Lord, remind me that Your grace meets me where I am, not where I think I should be. Help me to lay down the burden of perfection and receive the rest You offer. Teach me to trust that You see my faithfulness, even in the quiet, imperfect moments. Amen.

Alyssa Hobbs

Alyssa is a full-time working mom, conference facilitator, and faithful journal keeper whose quiet strength flows through every word she writes. Whether she is coordinating events that support pediatric subspecialties or stepping away from her desk to snuggle her babies, Alyssa carries a deep awareness of God’s presence in both the ordinary and the sacred.

Writing has always been her meeting place with the Lord. Her journals are filled with moments of reflection, raw prayers, and reminders of God's goodness through seasons of hardship and healing. She clings to the promise in Philippians 1:6, trusting that the God who began a good work in her is still completing it today. Through her vulnerability, Alyssa offers others the courage to step into their own healing stories and know they are never alone.

She writes so that others might see themselves in the pages. Her words are an invitation to remember that pain is never wasted, connection is always possible, and God is faithful to meet us right where we are. And if you ever need a laugh, ask her about her double-jointed fingers.

Next
Next

Making Room at the Table