November 21
When Love Feels
Like a Burden
"But suppose someone doesn’t provide for their own family. And suppose they don’t provide for their own people. Then they have said no to the faith. They are worse than someone who doesn’t believe."
1 Timothy 5:8 (NIrV)
Archie gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white. He was parked outside his parents’ house, but he couldn’t bring himself to get out of the car. His stomach was tight, his head pounded. He already knew how the evening would go.
His mother would complain that he didn’t visit enough. His father would need help sorting his medication, fixing something around the house, or paying bills online. The house, once a place filled with laughter and warmth, now felt like a burden. Every visit was just another list of chores.
Archie loved his parents—of course, he did. But love wasn’t enough to stop the exhaustion from creeping in. He had his own life, his own family. A demanding job that took everything out of him. Two kids who needed his attention. A wife who barely saw him anymore because every spare moment was spent here, in this tiny, cluttered house, with two people who never seemed grateful.
The guilt was unbearable.
He used to visit out of joy. Now, he visited out of obligation.
As he stepped inside, his mother barely looked up from her chair. “You’re late,” she muttered.
His father gestured toward a pile of papers. “Can you sort these out? I don’t understand half of this medical stuff.”
No greeting. No warmth. Just another task.
Archie clenched his jaw and got to work, biting back the frustration rising in his chest. But as the evening went on, the tension grew.
“I can’t do this anymore,” he finally snapped, pushing back from the table. “Every time I come here, it’s just a list of things you need. You don’t even ask how I’m doing.”
His mother’s lips quivered. His father looked down, silent.
“Archie…” his mother said softly. “We don’t mean to be a burden.”
Something inside him cracked. He saw them—not as the demanding, exhausting weight he had been carrying, but as two aging people who were scared, lonely, and doing the best they could.
That night, Archie sat in his car for a long time before heading home. He whispered, “God, I can’t do this on my own. I need You. Help me see them the way You do. Help me love them even when it’s hard.”
The next time he visited, things didn’t magically change. His parents still bickered, there were still errands to run. But there was something different in him. He wasn’t just serving them—he was serving God.
And that made all the difference.
Prayer:
Heavenly Father,
Caring for others is hard.
Archie’s struggle is my struggle too.
There are days when love feels more like a duty than a joy.
But You have called me to provide, to care, to love—even when it’s difficult.
Help me to see my family not as a burden, but as a blessing.
Fill me with Your strength when I feel weak, and remind me that in serving them, I am serving You.
Give me patience, give me endurance, and most of all, give me a heart like Yours.
In Jesus' name, Amen.
