When the Strong One Gets Tired
My heart is heavy.
Lately, I've been carrying a pain that is difficult to explain. It's the kind of pain that visits when the house is quiet, when the responsibilities pause for a moment, and when I'm finally alone with my thoughts.
I feel unseen.
For years, I believed that if I worked harder, gave more, achieved more, and helped more people, maybe I would finally feel loved and appreciated. Somewhere deep inside, I thought that success, money, influence, or being needed would fill the emptiness.
But it hasn't.
Ten years ago, my life looked very different. I was on fire for God. My heart was consumed with serving Him, discipling people, and supporting our church and pastor. Life wasn't perfect. There were struggles, sacrifices, and challenges. Yet in the middle of all of it, I was genuinely happy because I knew I was walking in God's will.
Today, I have things I once prayed for.
I have a family. I have a son. I have a business. I lead people and carry responsibilities that affect many lives.
Yet somehow, my heart feels heavier than it did back then.
I find myself wondering if I'm loved by my husband. I question whether the people I serve appreciate me. I wonder if those I've helped even see the sacrifices behind the blessings they've received.
Sometimes it feels like I've spent years giving pieces of myself away until there is very little left.
The truth is, I'm tired.
Tired of being strong.
Tired of being the provider.
Tired of carrying responsibilities that no one else can see.
Tired of feeling like I have to keep proving my worth.
Tired of wondering if my best will ever be enough.
There are moments when it feels like my heart is breaking from the weight of it all. Not because of one major event, but because of years of carrying burdens silently.
The hardest part is that many people see the accomplishments but not the cost.
They see the business.
They see the leadership.
They see the blessings.
But they don't see the tears.
They don't see the loneliness.
They don't see the woman who sometimes feels like she has no one to lean on.
And maybe that's what hurts the most.
Not the responsibilities.
Not the work.
Not even the sacrifices.
But the feeling of being unseen.
Yet as I write these words, I am reminded of something I once knew so deeply:
God sees me.
Before the business.
Before the responsibilities.
Before the expectations.
Before all the titles I carry.
He saw me.
When Hagar felt abandoned and forgotten in the wilderness, she called God "El Roi"—the God who sees me (Genesis 16:13). What comfort that brings to my weary heart. The same God who saw Hagar in her pain sees me in mine.
The woman who once served Him with a burning heart is still here, even if she's exhausted. Even if she's wounded. Even if she's questioning everything.
Maybe this season is not a sign that I've failed.
Maybe it's an invitation to stop carrying what was never mine to carry alone.
Jesus lovingly invites the weary:
"Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." — Matthew 11:28
Not more work.
Not more striving.
Not more proving.
Just rest.
Maybe I don't need to earn love.
Maybe I don't need to prove my worth.
Because my worth was already settled at the cross.
God's love for me is not based on how many people I help, how successful my business becomes, or how much appreciation I receive from others. His love was established long before I accomplished anything.
"See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!" — 1 John 3:1
Today, I don't have all the answers.
I only know this:
I am tired.
I am hurting.
But I am still here.
And God is still here too.
The One who sees every tear.
The One who understands every burden.
The One who never grows tired of carrying what I cannot.
"Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you." — 1 Peter 5:7
So tonight, instead of trying to be strong, I will simply be His.
And perhaps that is where healing begins. #SeenByGod #WhenTheStrongOneGetsTired #RestInGod #HeartHealing
