It has been a month since I last wrote here. September passed quietly and heavily, but my old prayer journals reminded me to pray again with greater fervor.
Like most adults, we’re all busy—chasing deadlines, finishing piles of work, and trying to build a better future. For me, many days felt like just surviving, dragging myself from one task to the next. With so many things happening—burdens I thought I had to carry and dreams I no longer see unfolding. I sometimes fell into pity parties where no one was invited.
I felt myself growing cold. My schedule was crammed with commuting, working, and trying to solve problems. I was tired, stiff, and heavy. In worship, I struggled to see God as kind or good. I would pray the right words, but deep inside, I was afraid He would see the bitterness and impurities I was hiding. That was my September. I’m glad it’s over.
Yet in the midst of it, I’ve been reminded: God really sees me. He desires not just that I endure suffering, but that I live with joy and hope in Him. He has good plans for me—to prosper and not to harm, to give me a future and a hope, even when I can’t see it yet. Sometimes His care comes through small things—a card handed by a preacher on the street, reminding me that God truly cares. Other times, it comes through people who share their burdens with me and allow me to cry my ugly tears. Just yesterday, after a storm flooded our home, God even sent someone to pray with us this morning. Truly, He cares about every little thing.
Then I remembered something from a worship seminar: the song leader said, “When we worship, we point to what Jesus did on the cross. That is enough reason to worship, no matter what we face.” I realized I had forgotten this. How foolish of me to neglect preaching the gospel to myself every day, to lose sight of eternity. I don’t have to run myself ragged—some burdens were never meant for me to carry.
My mind was consumed with finding a way out of this season instead of simply staying, abiding, and resting in Him. I thought I was busy, but really, I was just leaning on my own strength instead of surrendering my work and asking for His wisdom. And when our lives are crammed with our own agenda, we miss the gentle nudges of the Spirit.
I miss the hidden place—those quiet moments when it was just me and God, where my relationship with Him grew stronger. I thought I was focusing on important things, but I was neglecting the most important thing: intimacy with Him.
As Katie Davis Majors once said, “God will never call you to do something that doesn’t fit into the time He has given you.” Maybe I’ve been trying to do more than what He has truly given me. What if I slowed down and made space for conversation with Him? Without connection to God, I can’t bear fruit or give anything good to others.
So today, I remind myself: I can breathe out my anxieties, worries, and pride, and I can breathe in His peace, His grace, His goodness, love, and kindness. Even good things can become idols if they take first place in our lives. Only in abiding in Him do we find life.
And from that place of abiding, we can overflow to others. People should feel welcome in our presence—that we can give them time, show them love, and pray for them. Just today, I realized how refreshing it is to have someone walk into your house and give their time to pray. How many of us could slow down enough to visit an old friend, reply to a message, give a hug, or simply pray for someone?
Busyness is the enemy of intimacy—with God and with people. In today’s world, we’re often told to pursue individualism, to go our own way, to focus only on our personal growth. But isn’t it God’s design that we have the church—that we would have people to pray with us when we grow weary, to lean on when our light flickers and grows dim?
I look forward to Sundays with my care group. These ladies share with me how God is working in their lives. Last Sunday, we cried ugly tears together as we laid down our burdens honestly before God and before each other. And afterward, we shared a good meal—comforting both body and soul.
Sometimes I rush to finish my work, but isn’t it more beautiful to slow down and make space for real conversations? To talk about how God is working in our lives, to lay hands on one another, to lift burdens together? These moments matter more than the ministries and tasks we so often prioritize.
Sometimes all it takes is a conversation, a prayer, or a shared tear to remind us again that yes—God is still kind, God is still good, and God cares.
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
— Matthew 11:28–30
Come, for his yoke is easy and his burden is light. Come as you are, come so close that he can hold you again.
