May 24, 2026
There are seasons in life that leave us asking questions we never thought we would have to ask.
What now?
How do I keep going?
What happens when I’m tired?
What happens when I don’t feel strong anymore?
What happens when I don’t know if I can keep showing up?
This season of Honey For Your Heart has taken us through some deep places. We have talked about grief and waiting. We have talked about manna and gratitude. We have talked about eternal perspective, hidden roots, grains of sand, refining fire, daily mercy, and what it means to stay layered in grace.
But as this season comes to a close, there is one final question that feels important to ask:
What do we do when we’re tired of being strong?
Because if we are honest, many of us know what it feels like to keep going because we have to. We know what it feels like to show up while still grieving, still waiting, still praying, still holding unanswered questions in our hands.
And yet, one of the greatest gifts God has given me in this season is the reminder that spiritual maturity is not learning to need Him less.
It is learning to depend on Him more.
Spiritual Maturity Is Not Self-Sufficiency
One of the greatest misunderstandings we carry as believers is the idea that spiritual growth means eventually becoming more self-sufficient.
As if maturity means becoming more polished. More emotionally steady. More independent. More capable of carrying pain without needing help.
But the deeper I have walked with God, the more aware I have become of how desperately I need Him for everything.
Not less dependence.
More.
Not less surrender.
More.
Not less daily mercy.
More.
And maybe that realization is not weakness at all.
Maybe it is grace.
Because exhaustion often comes from trying to carry things we were never meant to carry in the first place.
This season began because my world broke open. Beth’s death reshaped me in ways I am still learning to articulate. When I first began recording this season, I thought I was coming here to share lessons God was teaching me.
But now, looking back, I can see that God was doing something deeper than teaching lessons.
He was dismantling self-reliance.
Layer by layer.
And maybe that is what He has been doing in you too.
God’s Invitation in the Deep Places
When I look back across this season, I can see that every episode has quietly carried the same invitation from God:
Depend on Me.
Stay near to Me.
Return to Me.
Let Me hold you together.
That was the invitation in the waiting.
In the grief.
In the fire.
In the hidden seasons.
In the manna.
In the mercy.
And honestly, that invitation can feel offensive to our flesh.
Because we want understanding.
We want plans. Timelines. Answers. Explanations. We want God to tell us why the diagnosis happened, why the marriage fell apart, why the child walked away, why the prayer was not answered the way we hoped.
But one of the deepest truths I have learned is this:
God rarely gives us understanding and presence at the same time. Often, we have to choose which one we value more.
And that tension goes all the way back to the garden.
In Genesis, Adam and Eve stood before the Tree of Life and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Satan tempted them with knowledge. He tempted them with the promise that they would understand, that they would know, that they would be like God.
But what they gained in knowledge, they lost in intimacy.
And I think we still wrestle with that same temptation today.
We want God to explain Himself.
But so often, instead of explanation, He offers His presence.
When You Don’t Understand Your Story
There are still parts of my story I do not understand.
I do not understand why I lost my mom when I was seventeen. I do not understand why Beth battled cancer for nine years and died at forty-two with four children.
There are moments where, like Job, I want to ask God, “Why? Help me understand. Help me make sense of this. How is this good?”
But then I remember Job’s story.
God never condemned Job for bringing his grief to Him. Job’s questions were honest, but they were brought directly to the Lord.
And eventually, God lifted Job’s eyes.
The same thing happens in Isaiah 40:
“Lift up your eyes and look to the heavens: Who created all these?”
That verse gently reminds me and corrects me.
There is a God.
And I am not Him.
The One who holds the stars in place is also holding me.
And maybe His mercy is not giving me knowledge I cannot carry. Maybe His mercy is giving me His presence instead.
Because God will not give us a life that makes Him unnecessary.
God Was With Joseph, Even When He Couldn’t See It
We have talked a lot this season about Joseph.
Scripture repeatedly says, “And the Lord was with Joseph.”
God was with him in the pit.
God was with him in slavery.
God was with him in prison.
And I often wonder how aware Joseph was of that in real time.
Did he feel abandoned? Lonely? Forgotten? Angry?
Probably.
Wouldn’t you?
Don’t you?
I know I often do.
And yet Scripture keeps repeating the same truth: God was with him.
Not because Joseph always felt it.
But because it was true.
That matters deeply for us because many of us are waiting to feel God before we trust that He is present. But Scripture teaches us to look for Him through faithfulness and remembrance.
That is why gratitude matters.
Gratitude is not pretending life is easy. Gratitude is training your eyes to recognize where God is already at work.
Building Memorial Stones in Hard Places
One of the most important practices of my life has become noticing, remembering, and recording.
Truthfully, that is what these episodes became for me this season.
They became memorial stones.
In Joshua 4, after God brought Israel through the Jordan River, He instructed them to gather stones and build a monument. The purpose was simple: so that one day, when their children asked what the stones meant, they could tell the story of God’s faithfulness.
The memorial was meant to help them remember.
And I have realized how much we need that.
We think we will naturally remember what God has done. But we forget so quickly. I thought I would never forget what God did during Beth’s final weeks and months, but even now, when I read old notes and posts, I realize how easy it is to forget.
The Israelites forgot manna.
They forgot miracles.
They forgot deliverance.
They forgot the Red Sea.
And we forget too.
That is why writing things down matters. Worship playlists matter. Framed verses matter. Journals matter. Gratitude lists matter. Telling your children what God has done matters.
But here is something important about memorial stones:
The stones almost always come from hard places.
In Joshua 4, the stones came from the middle of the riverbed. From the hard crossing. From the impossible place.
And maybe some of the hardest moments of your life will one day become the places your children learn exactly who God is.
Maybe the thing you wish had never happened will become evidence of God’s faithfulness for someone else.
The Fire May Be Freeing You
Earlier this season, we talked about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego.
One detail from that story continues to stay with me: the fire burned away their ropes.
The only thing consumed was what restrained them.
And maybe some of us have spent this season angry about the fire we are in without realizing that God has been burning away things that were never meant to hold us.
False control.
False security.
Self-reliance.
Fear.
Performance.
Pride.
Not to shame us.
But to free us.
Because weariness grows quickly when life becomes centered around ourselves — our outcomes, our comfort, our timelines, our understanding.
But the fruit of your life was never meant to terminate on you.
Your story is bigger than you.
Some of the deepest fruit growing in your life right now may be feeding people you will never meet. And it is definitely meant to feed those closest to you: your children, your spouse, your friends, and the people quietly watching from the sidelines.
You may feel unseen.
But hidden roots still matter.
Holy Progress May Look Hidden
This season, we talked about invisible seasons and roots growing underground before fruit appears above ground.
And maybe the greatest evidence of growth is not visible success.
Maybe it is this:
You are still showing up.
Still praying.
Still returning.
Still surrendering.
Still trusting.
Still gathering manna.
That matters.
Holy progress may not look like having every answer. It may not look like feeling strong. It may not look like your circumstances changing.
Maybe your roots are deeper.
Maybe your eyes are softer.
Maybe your dependence is stronger.
Maybe your grip on control is loosening.
Maybe your awareness of His presence has grown.
And that is holy progress.
Stay Near to Jesus
This is where I want to land this season.
Not with pressure.
Not with striving.
Not with “go try harder and put all of this into practice.”
But simply with this:
Stay near.
Stay with God every single day and every single moment, no matter what that moment holds.
Keep gathering manna.
Keep returning.
Keep building memorial stones.
Keep lifting your eyes.
Keep practicing gratitude.
Keep letting your children see you pray.
Let prayer become your first response instead of your last resort.
Not because spiritual disciplines make God love you more, but because they keep you close to the One who already does.
We live in a world with unprecedented access to information about God. Podcasts, sermons, books, Bible studies, social media clips — all of them can be good gifts.
But we can spend our entire lives collecting knowledge about God while quietly missing God Himself.
Knowing about Him is not the same as knowing Him.
This season was never ultimately about lessons.
It was about intimacy.
Because the treasure was never the outcome.
The treasure is Jesus.
Always Jesus.
The pearl is not strength.
It is nearness.
You Are Being Held
Maybe you are ending this season still tired.
Still grieving.
Still waiting.
Still carrying unanswered questions.
Maybe your circumstances have not changed at all.
But maybe you have.
And if you are tired of being strong, I want you to remember this:
You do not have to hold yourself together.
Colossians 1:17 says, “In Him all things hold together.”
Not in your strength.
Not in your understanding.
Not in your performance.
In Him.
You are being held.
One day, faith will become sight. One day, every layer of grace will make sense. One day, every tear will be wiped away. One day, the story will be fully and eternally good.
But until then, we stay under mercy.
We keep showing up.
We keep lifting our eyes.
We keep gathering manna.
We keep building memorial stones.
We keep walking with the God who has been faithful in every chapter.
And we remember:
The lessons from the deep were never ultimately about surviving hard seasons.
They were about discovering that even there — especially there — God is near.
A Look Ahead to the Next Season of Honey For Your Heart
As this season comes to a close, I am so grateful for the ways God has met us in these sacred places. Thank you for walking through this season with me and allowing me to share what God has been teaching me in the deep.
And I am also excited to share a little glimpse of what is coming next.
In the next season of Honey For Your Heart, I will be partnering with my friend Randy Hemphill for a deep dive into grief and how we navigate it well.
But this is not only the kind of grief we often think about. We will talk about everyday grief, small losses, disappointments, past grief that has not been recognized or processed, and current grief you may be walking through right now.
Randy has spent years studying grief from both a professional and biblical perspective, and the tools he offers to help us name our grief and process it in a healthy, God-honoring way are incredibly valuable.
That season will launch in early fall 2026, and I truly believe it is going to be an important and meaningful one.
Until then, always remember:
You are seen.
You are known.
You are deeply loved.
And you are never walking alone.
Listen to the Episode
Watch or listen the season finale of Honey For Your Heart: “When You’re Tired of Being Strong.”
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