Sometimes, we’ll experience moments when the weight becomes unbearable. When the life we’ve carefully built begins to buckle under the weight of our silent vows — “I don’t need help.” “I’ll do this on my own.” “If I rest, everything will fall apart.” 

I know this space intimately. There was a season when I wore strength-like armour. I held it all together — for my family, ministry, and everyone around me. But behind the scenes, I was fraying. I pushed through the warning signs. I kept smiling, kept serving, until one day, I simply couldn’t anymore. My body broke down. My soul cracked open. And in that unravelling, I met God — not in my striving, but in my surrender. 

“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” — 2 Corinthians 12:9

What if those very breakdowns are not punishments… but invitations? 🤔

God, in His mercy, often allows our structures — our internal scaffolding of control and self-reliance — to collapse. Not to shame us. But to free us. He brings us to the end of ourselves, where we finally stop performing, stop pretending, and start crying out: “God, I can’t do this alone.”

And it’s there — in the ashes of our self-sufficiency — that He meets us.

He was never asking for our perfection. He’s always been after our presence. He longs to walk with us, not watch us run ourselves into the ground.

Even Jesus, in His most human moment, knelt in the garden and prayed: “Father, if You are willing, take this cup from Me; yet not My will, but Yours be done.” — Luke 22:42. He didn’t deny His anguish — He surrendered it. And in doing so, He showed us the way: not self-reliance, but dependence on the Father.