October 6
When You Can’t
Carry It All
"Come to me, all you who are tired and carrying heavy loads. I will give you rest."
Matthew 11:28 (NIrV)
Jen slammed the car door shut, slouching in the drivers seat. Her hands were trembling. Another morning drop-off done. Another rush across town to her first job. Another day of exhaustion stretching ahead of her like an endless road.
She loved her kids more than anything. But love didn’t pay the bills. It didn’t make the screaming fits easier or the endless laundry piles disappear. It didn’t stop the crushing loneliness she felt when she collapsed into bed at night, knowing she’d do it all again tomorrow.
Her three-year-old, Leo, had woken up crying at 2 a.m., soaking wet from another accident. By the time she got him cleaned up and back to sleep, the alarm was blaring. She barely had the energy to get six-year-old Mia ready for school, let alone herself. Now, she had ten minutes to get to her shift at the diner, where she’d smile and pour coffee for customers who had no idea how much she was falling apart inside.
By the time she picked up Mia from school, juggled dinner, baths, and bedtime tantrums, she was spent. But she couldn’t rest. She had her second job—answering emails for an online company late into the night—because one paycheck wasn’t enough.
Tonight, as she sat on the couch staring at the glowing laptop screen, her head dropped into her hands. Tears spilled down her face. “God,” she whispered, barely able to get the words out. “I can’t do this anymore.”
The silence in the room pressed against her, heavy and suffocating. But then—something else. A warmth. A small, quiet thought pressing into her weary heart.
"Come to me, all you who are tired and carrying heavy loads. I will give you rest."
Rest. It felt like a fantasy. But what if it wasn’t? What if she didn’t have to carry this weight alone?
Jen exhaled. A deep, shaky breath. Maybe she wouldn’t figure it all out tonight. Maybe tomorrow would still be hard. But in this moment, she let herself believe that God saw her. That He wasn’t waiting for her to be stronger—He was offering to carry her through.
She shut the laptop. For once, the emails could wait. She walked down the hall and peeked into her children’s room, watching their peaceful faces as they slept.
"Thank You, Lord," she whispered. "I’ll come to You."
And for the first time in a long time, she felt just a little lighter.
Prayer:
Dear God,
I am tired. Some days, I don’t know how I’ll keep going.
But You see me.
You know the weight I carry.
Thank You for reminding me that I don’t have to do this alone.
Help me to trust You with my burdens and to find rest in Your presence.
Give me strength for the days ahead, and remind me that Your love is enough—even when I feel like I’m not.
In Jesus' name, Amen.
