✨“The ‘7 Faces of Exhaustion^™’ Summer Series

kicks off now!”✨

Whether you’ve been walking with me for weeks or you’re just finding your seat at this table, welcome.

This is where the map begins before we go deep in naming the kind of ‘tired’ that’s exhausting you and stealing your joy!

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It’s summer.

The sun is out.

The calendar is (supposedly) lighter.

Everyone around you is posting beach pictures and talking about how “refreshed” they feel.

And you? You’re sitting here wondering why you’re still exhausted.

Not just sleepy. Not just “I could use a vacation.” Something deeper. Something that a week at the beach wouldn’t fix even if you had one.

You smile when people ask how you’re doing.

You say “I’m good, just busy.”

And you move on, because admitting the truth feels like too much work.

But here’s the truth you won’t say out loud: you’re not just tired. You’re depleted. And you’ve been running on fumes so long, you’ve forgotten what full feels like.

Sweet friend, if that’s you, stay with me today. Because I’ve been right where you are. And what God showed me about exhaustion changed everything.

🌿 🌿 🌿

What Jesus Actually Said

“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.”

— Matthew 11:28-29

Notice what Jesus didn’t say.

He didn’t say, “Figure it out.” He didn’t say, “Try harder.” He didn’t say, “Push through until the season changes.”

He said come. As you are. Weary. Burdened. Running on empty. Come.

And then He said something radical: rest for your souls. Not just your body. Your soul. Because the exhaustion you’re carrying? It’s not just physical. It never was.

🌿 🌿 🌿

When Your Feelings Tell You Otherwise…

The lies exhaustion whispers are convincing because they sound like responsibility:

“If I slow down, everything falls apart.”

“Other women handle more than this without complaining.”

“I should be grateful, not exhausted.”

“Resting feels selfish when so many people need me.”

“It’s summer. I should feel better by now.”

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I know those whispers. I’ve believed every single one of them. Some of them lived in my head rent-free for years.

But here’s what I’ve learned through The 7 Faces of Exhaustion™ system: Until you can name what kind of tired you actually are, no amount of sleep, vacation, or “self-care” will fix it.

💪 Physical exhaustion needs rest.

💛 Emotional exhaustion needs safety.

🧠 Mental exhaustion needs silence.

🕊️ Spiritual exhaustion needs reconnection.

👥 Social exhaustion needs boundaries.

🤲 Compassion fatigue needs permission to stop carrying everyone.

🎯 Purpose exhaustion needs meaning.

They’re all real.

They’re all valid.

And they all require something different.

The reason you’ve been throwing solutions at your tired and nothing sticks?

You might be treating the wrong face.

🌿 🌿 🌿

The Deeper Truth

Here’s what nobody tells you about exhaustion: it layers.

Physical tiredness makes you emotionally fragile.

Emotional depletion disconnects you from God.

Spiritual dryness makes everything feel pointless.

And around it goes.

Elijah knew this. After his greatest victory on Mount Carmel, he ran. He collapsed under a tree and told God he’d had enough. And what did God do?

He didn’t lecture him.

He didn’t give him a five-step plan.

“He let him sleep. He fed him. He met him in the quiet.”

— 1 Kings 19:4-8

God didn’t treat Elijah’s spiritual crisis with spiritual answers alone. He started with the body.

• Rest.

• Food.

• Then presence.

God understood that exhaustion is layered, and healing has to meet you where the depletion actually lives.

That’s what The 7 Faces of Exhaustion™ is really about. Not just identifying that you’re tired. Identifying where you’re tired. Because that’s where healing begins.

🌿 🌿 🌿

What This Means for You…

So what does this look like in real life?

It looks like giving yourself permission:

• Permission to name the real exhaustion, not just the acceptable one.

• Permission to set a boundary without writing a five-paragraph apology.

• Permission to rest before you earn it.

Here are five things I want you to try this week:

1. Name it.

Which of the 7 Faces of Exhaustion™ is loudest right now? Physical? Emotional? Mental? Spiritual? Social? Compassion Fatigue? Purpose Exhaustion?

Say it out loud.

Write it down.

Naming it takes away its power to hide.

2. Stop apologizing for being tired.

You don’t owe anyone an explanation for running on empty. Exhaustion is not a character flaw. It’s information. Treat it that way.

3. Set one boundary this week.

Just one. It doesn’t have to be dramatic. “I’m not available after 8 PM.” “I need to sit this one out.” “I love you, but I can’t carry this for you right now.” One fence. That’s all.

4. Rest before you break.

Don’t wait until you collapse to take a breath. Rest is not the reward for finishing everything. It’s the fuel for doing anything at all.

5. Let God meet you in the tired.

Open your hands. Open your mouth. Tell Him the truth. He already knows, but something shifts when you say it. “God, I’m exhausted. I don’t know which kind. But I’m bringing all of it to You.”

🌿 🌿 🌿

Remember This Truth

“Your exhaustion is not evidence that you’re failing.

It’s evidence that you’ve been giving!”

And the God who sees every sacrifice, every sleepless night, every “yes” you said when you had nothing left? He’s not asking you to give more. He’s asking you to come. As you are. Weary and burdened.

Because you can’t heal what you can’t name. And you can’t name what you won’t admit.

So say it. Out loud. Even if only to God:

“I’m exhausted. And I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

That’s not defeat.

That’s the beginning of joy! 🙌🏼

🌿 🌿 🌿

An Invitation

Sweet friend, this post is the beginning of something.

Over the next seven Thursdays, we’re going to walk through each of The 7 Faces of Exhaustion™, one at a time.

One Face per week.

One honest look at what your tired is really called and what God says about it.

But before we go deep, you need the map. Remember I mentioned this at the beginning of this article. And here we are!

If you don’t already know which Face is loudest in your life right now, take the free 7 Faces of Exhaustion™ Self-Assessment.

It’s 14 questions.

It takes about 5 to 10 minutes.

And it will tell you exactly which of the seven is running the show, so you can walk with me these next seven weeks knowing where the work begins.

>> TAKE THE FREE ASSESSMENT (start here) <<

---

✨TESTIMONIALS✨

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“This one stopped me in my tracks. Ten minutes. That’s all it took to finally have words for something I’ve been carrying for years. The questions are gentle but honest. The results felt like someone actually saw me. And it’s free. Just go get it.” — Raquel Devillé

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“A sophisticated and enlightening assessment tool and mirror in which I can see my current experience reflected. The 3-part results format is thoughtful and significant - thank you!” —Anonymous

If you feel ready, I’d love to hear from you.

📣 “Which face do you think is loudest for you right now? Physical? Emotional? Mental? Spiritual? Social? Compassion Fatigue? Purpose? Or is it a mix?”

You don’t have to have it all figured out. You just have to be honest with yourself. Your honesty might be exactly what another woman needs to hear today.

Reply or leave a comment. Because the moment you name it, you stop carrying it alone.

Leave a comment

And you were never meant to carry it alone. 💛

Joyfully yours,

© Joy God’s Way^® a registered trademark of Rejoiceful Living, LLC joygodsway.com | All rights reserved.

A few weeks ago, I shared about my time sitting on the couch in my Bullseye cozy fuzzy pants, eating an Italian deli sandwich, wondering if I’d ever feel like myself again.

It reminded me of the time that I was so tired that rest felt like a myth. Joy felt like something other people experienced. And “strong enough” felt like a prison sentence I’d volunteered for.

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I didn’t know then that those fuzzy pants were the beginning of something.

That the couch wasn’t a dead end but a starting line. Actually, a restarting line, because I’d been here before. That admitting “I’m empty” was the bravest and most necessary thing I’d done in years.

Today, I want to tell you something:

“I’m not just surviving anymore!”

I’m not fixed. I’m not perfect.

I still have tired days.

I still fight the urge to say yes when I mean no.

I still reach for busyness when I should reach for stillness.

Like I said, I was back to the restarting line.

But something has shifted. Something fundamental. Something that can’t be un-shifted.

Today, I know what my exhaustion is telling me now.

I’ve stopped performing strength and started receiving it.

I’ve built boundaries with grace and let go of guilt.

I’ve found joy in the tired, not on the other side of it. And I’m rebuilding my life with God’s blueprint instead of my own anxiety.

I’m not the same woman who sat on that couch in her cozy fuzzy pants. And if you’ve been walking this road with me? Neither are you.

“He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion

until the day of Christ Jesus.”

— Philippians 1:6

When Your Feelings Tell You Otherwise...

Even now, as we keep walking this road, the whispers try:

“Nothing really changed. You’re still the same.”

“It’s only a matter of time before you go back to the old patterns.”

“Twelve, not even thirty weeks can undo years of exhaustion.”

“You haven’t done enough to claim ‘joy.’”

But here’s what I know now that I didn’t know years ago:

“Transformation doesn’t happen in an instant. It happens in a million tiny shifts. And every single one of them counts!”

Every time you chose rest over guilt. Every time you said “no” without apologizing. Every time you listened to your tired instead of pushing through it. Every time you opened your eyes to joy in the middle of the mess.

Those moments are the transformation. And they can’t be taken away from you.

The Deeper Truth

Look at where we’ve been the past twelve weeks:

✨Click each to go to article✨

We named the crash.

We gave ourselves permission to still be tired.

We identified the seven faces of exhaustion. ⬇️

We reclaimed rest as a gift, not a reward.

We put down the crown of ‘strong enough.’

We listened to what our exhaustion was telling us.

We made small shifts that led to big relief.

We learned to rest even when it felt impossible.

We found joy in the tired.

We set boundaries with grace.

And we started building lives that don’t exhaust us.

And the beautiful thing? This isn’t the end.

Philippians 1:6 says “He will CARRY IT ON to completion.” Present tense.

Ongoing.

The work He started in you over these twelve weeks?

He’s not done. He’s just getting started.

“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”

— Isaiah 43:19

The wilderness of your exhaustion? He’s making a way through it.

The wasteland of your burnout? He’s bringing streams.

Not because you earned it. Because He loves you.

And His love doesn’t get tired.

Because Life Will Keep Happening

Here’s the truth I’ve learned the hard way…there will be seasons that try to drag you back to that couch in the Bullseye cozy fuzzy pants.

Life will happen.

Interference will come.

The crash will sneak up again when you least expect it.

A hard week. A loss. A health scare.

A relationship that drains more than it fills.

A calendar that fills up before you noticed it was filling.

And that’s exactly why we stay tethered to Jesus, and not to a 12-week checklist.

Because the journey isn’t over when the series ends. It’s just changing shape.

So when the next hard season rolls in (and it will), you won’t be starting from scratch.

You’ll be starting from a place of knowing.

You’ll know which Face of Exhaustion is talking.

You’ll know what the whispers sound like.

You’ll know how to come back to the restarting line without shame. 🙌🏼

What This Means for You

Wherever you are right now, hear me:

“You are not where you started.”

Maybe the shifts have been small.

Maybe you’re still in the thick of it.

Maybe some weeks you leaned in and other weeks you barely held on.

That’s okay. You’re still here. And “still here” is a victory!

This journey was never about arriving at some finish line called “joy” where exhaustion disappears forever. It was about learning to carry both.

To be tired and trusting.

To be weary and hopeful.

To be exhausted and joyful. Both at the same time.

That’s not contradiction. That’s faith!

Remember This Truth…

You are not just surviving anymore. You are becoming!

Becoming the woman who rests without guilt.

Who sets boundaries without shame.

Who listens to her body without fear.

Who finds joy without waiting for perfect circumstances.

Becoming the woman God always saw when He looked at you, even in the Bullseye cozy fuzzy pants. Especially in the Bullseye cozy fuzzy pants.

The exhaustion didn’t have the last word. Joy did.

And joy always will!

A Closing Prayer🙏🏼

Lord, thank You. For every woman who walked this road. For every tear, every truth, every tiny shift. For the Bullseye cozy fuzzy pants and the produce aisles and the driveways where we finally stopped pretending.

You met us in our exhaustion. You gave us permission to rest. You showed us joy in the middle of the tired. And You’re not done yet.

Carry this good work to completion. Keep making streams in wastelands. Keep whispering, “I’ve got you” when we forget. And when the next hard season comes, remind us that we don’t walk it alone.

We are Yours. Tired, joyful, becoming, Yours.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

What’s Next on This Journey?

This series may be wrapping its twelve-week run, but your journey from exhaustion to joy is just getting started. And because ‘life keeps happening,’ here are four ways to keep walking with me and growing through each season of your life:

🎯 Start here — take the free assessment: Which 7 Faces of Exhaustion™ Is Running Your Life? Discover what your tired is really telling you. (This is always step one.)

💛 Then go deeper with: Remedies for the 7 Faces of Exhaustion™ — your companion guide with real, practical relief for each Face of Exhaustion you carry. ✨Summer Sale: 50% off, Now only $5! June 22 through August 31, 2026.✨

✨ Coming soon: The Permission Paradox mini course — for the woman who knows she needs rest, but can’t seem to give herself permission to have it.

Stay tuned at joygodsway.com.

📖 Catch up on the full series: The 12-Week From Exhaustion into Joy Archive — every post, in order, anytime you need to come back to it.

If this series has meant something to you, would you share it with one woman who needs it?

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Not subscribed yet? I’d love to keep walking this road with you.

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An Invitation

This is the last Thursday of this series — but our walk together? That’s just getting started.

📣“What’s the biggest thing that shifted for you after reading how to trade exhaustion for joy, God’s way? Was it a truth? A practice? A moment? A prayer?”

Leave a comment

Your story might be exactly what someone else needs to hear today.

Thank you for being brave enough to start this journey, for staying and letting me walk it with you.

“From exhaustion to joy, sweet friend. We continue… together!”🌿

Joyfully yours,

© Joy God’s Way^® | joygodsway.com | All rights reserved.

There was a time when I used to think my life was exhausting because of what was happening TO me.

The job.

The schedule.

The responsibilities.

The people who needed things from me.

It was always something external that I blamed for the bone-deep tired.

But one morning, sitting in my car in the driveway with the engine off because I couldn’t muster the energy to walk inside, I had a thought that wrecked me:

What if:

every “yes” I said,

every role I took on,

every expectation I absorbed,

every limit I refused to set, brick by brick…built a life that was never sustainable?

Not a life that happened to me.

A life I constructed.

One overwhelmed “yes” at a time.

That was the hardest and most freeing realization of this entire journey.

“Unless the Lord builds the house, the builders labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the guards stand watch in vain. In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat

— for he grants sleep to those he loves.”

— Psalm 127:1–2

When Your Feelings Tell You Otherwise...

The resistance to this truth sounds like:

“I didn’t choose this life. It chose me.”

“I can’t change my circumstances. Other people depend on me.”

“I can’t just redesign everything.”

“This is just the season I’m in. I’ll rest later.”

“Building a sustainable life sounds like a luxury I can’t afford.”

I HEAR you.

And some of those are partly true.

You can’t change everything overnight.

You can’t abandon responsibilities.

Some seasons are legitimately harder than others.

But here’s what IS within your power:

• You can stop adding bricks to a building that’s already crumbling.

• You can start making different choices, one at a time, about what your life looks like going forward.

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The Deeper Truth

Psalm 127 doesn’t say “Don’t build.” It says, “Unless the LORD builds.” There’s a difference between building with God’s blueprint and building with your own anxiety.

When we build from anxiety, we add more:

• More commitments.

• More control.

• More insurance policies against the fear that everything will fall apart.

We rise early, stay up late, and toil for bread that never satisfies.

When we build with God, we subtract.

• We ask, “Is this Yours or mine?”

• We hold things loosely.

• We accept that some rooms in our life were never supposed to be built in the first place.

Think about Nehemiah. When he rebuilt the wall of Jerusalem, he didn’t just throw bricks at it.

He assessed the damage first.

He walked the ruins.

He saw what was broken, what was salvageable, and what needed to come down before anything new could go up.

That’s what we’re doing here.

Walking the ruins of an unsustainable life and asking God, “What stays? What goes?

And what do we build differently this time?”

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

— Jeremiah 29:11

God’s plans don’t include your burnout.

His blueprints don’t include a life that makes you cry in the driveway.

He has something better in mind. But getting there requires the courage to look at what you’ve built and be honest about what isn’t working.

What This Means for You

Sweet friend, you can’t keep living at a pace that’s destroying you and hope that rest will magically fix it.

Rest without restructuring is just a longer nap before the same exhausting life.

Building a life that doesn’t exhaust you starts with honest questions:

• What am I doing out of obligation that I could release?

• What am I doing out of guilt that God never asked me to do?

• What rhythm would my life have if I designed it around peace instead of productivity?

• What would I STOP doing if I knew nobody would be disappointed?

The answers won’t be comfortable. But they’ll be true.

And the truth is where freedom lives!

✨CLICK FOR 'FREE' ASSESSMENT!✨

The 7 Faces of Exhaustion™ Self-Assessment helps you discover exactly which type of exhaustion is running your life right now — in about 5 to 10 minutes.

The Assessement is your ‘diagnosis.’

Remember This Truth

You are not stuck in this life forever. You built it, which means, with God’s help, you can rebuild it.

Not all at once.

Not by burning everything down.

But by making one different choice at a time.

By saying no where you used to say yes.

By protecting what matters and releasing what doesn’t.

By letting God be the architect instead of your anxiety.

A sustainable life is not a lazy life. It’s a life built on the right foundation.

And the right foundation is always, always, always Him.

An Invitation

This week, I want you to do a life audit. Just a simple one.

Write down everything on your plate.

Everything.

Then put a star next to the things that bring you life, energy, and purpose. Put an X next to the things that consistently drain you.

You don’t have to act on it yet. Just see it. Because you can’t rebuild what you won’t look at.

Joyfully yours,

Share Joy God’s Way®

✨50% Off! Get it for only $5 - June 22 through August 31, 2026✨

✨CLICK HERE FOR REMEDIIES GUIDE!✨

The Assessment was the diagnosis…This Remedies Guide IS your prescription!

You named it.

Now let’s heal it.

If you took The 7 Faces of Exhaustion™ Assessment and thought, “Okay, but now what?”, this guide is your answer.

Remedies for The 7 Faces of Exhaustion™ gives you 21 practical, Scripture-rooted remedies.

“From my heart to yours, thank you for reading. 💖

This newsletter is always free. As a subscriber, you’ll receive a new post every Thursday.

I’d love to have you join the Joy God’s Way® community, so we can keep moving from exhaustion into joy together, God’s way! 🌿

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There was a time when I used to think being a good friend meant never hanging up first.

Never saying, “I can’t right now.”

Never admitting that some conversations left me feeling worse than before they started.

Never acknowledging that certain names on my caller ID made my stomach tighten before I even picked up.

I thought love meant unlimited access.

Open door.

Open schedule.

Open heart, no exceptions.

If someone needed me, I showed up.

If they needed more, I gave more.

And if I felt hollow afterward?

Well, that was just the cost of caring.

Until one evening I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror after a conversation that had taken everything I had left.

My eyes looked flat. My shoulders were up around my ears. And I thought, I don’t even recognize the woman looking back at me.

That was the night I finally admitted what I’d been avoiding for years:

“Some of the people in my life were draining me!”

Not because they were bad people.

But because I had no boundaries.

“Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.”

— Proverbs 4:23

When Your Feelings Tell You Otherwise...

Setting boundaries with people feels impossible when the voices say:

“A good Christian wouldn’t set limits on love.”

“If I say no, they’ll think I don’t care.”

“Jesus was available to everyone. I should be too.”

“It’s selfish to protect my energy.”

“What kind of friend puts up walls?”

Let me tell you something that took me way too long to learn:

“Boundaries are not walls. They’re fences.”

Walls keep everyone out.

Fences have gates.

You choose who comes in, when they come in, and how long they stay.

And that’s not selfish. That’s stewardship.

The Deeper Truth

Jesus loved everyone. But He didn’t give everyone the same access.

He had the crowds. He had the seventy-two. He had the twelve. He had the three (Peter, James, and John). And He had moments alone with the Father.

Concentric circles of intimacy.

Not because He loved some people less, but because even the Son of God understood that not every relationship requires the same level of access to your life.

Jesus said ‘no’ to people.

He left crowds who wanted more.

He withdrew when the demands pressed in.

He slept in a boat during a storm while people panicked around Him.

If Jesus set boundaries, you have permission to set them too.

“Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ... for each one should carry their own load.”

— Galatians 6:2, 5

What This Means for You

Sweet friend, who has access to your life right now? And is that access healthy?

Boundaries with grace look like this:

• “I love you, and I need to take care of myself right now.”

• “I can listen for fifteen minutes, and then I need to go.”

• “I’m not the right person to help with this, but I can help you find someone who is.”

• “I need to step back from this for a season.”

None of those are unkind.

They’re honest. And honesty, spoken with love, is one of the most graceful things you can offer.

Remember This Truth

You are not a bottomless well.

You are a person with a limited supply of energy, time, and emotional capacity. And guarding that supply is not selfish.

It’s how you stay alive long enough to actually love people well.

Guard your heart.

It’s not optional.

It’s a command from the same God who gave you a heart worth guarding.

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An Invitation

This week, I want you to take a relationship inventory.

Think about the five people you spend the most time with.

After each interaction, ask yourself:

“Do I feel filled up or emptied out?”

You don’t have to do anything dramatic.

Just notice.

Awareness is the first step to change.

Joyfully yours,

Share Joy God’s Way™

CLICK FOR FREE ASSESSEMENT

The 7 Faces of Exhaustion™ Self-Assessment helps you discover exactly which type of exhaustion is running your life right now — in about 5 to 10 minutes.

The Assessement is your ‘diagnosis.’

Once you complete the Assessment be sure to get your 7 Faces of Exhaustion™ Remedies Guide. This is your ‘prescription’ upon discovering which face(s) of exhaustion you are dealing with and how to move forward…God’s way!

For so long, I always thought joy was waiting for me on the other side of rest.

“Once I’m not tired anymore, THEN I’ll be joyful.”

“Once I’ve caught up on sleep, THEN I’ll feel like myself again.”

“Once this season of exhaustion passes, THEN joy will show up like a guest who finally made it to the party.”

But joy never came.

Not because it wasn’t real, but because I was looking for it in all the wrong places.

I was waiting for exhaustion to leave before I invited joy in.

Like they couldn’t exist in the same room.

Like my tired was too big for joy to fit.

Then one Tuesday morning, while I was dragging myself through the grocery store in sweatpants and a baseball cap, teeth half-brushed, face splashed with water and wiped dry (both yucks, I know), my phone buzzed.

Here I was, looking like I had just rolled straight out of bed, doing my best not to be noticed or seen by a single living soul…and my phone buzzed!

It was a voice message from a very dear friend: “Hey, I was praying for you this morning and I just wanted you to know.”

And standing there in the middle of the produce aisle, exhausted and honestly wanting nothing more than to go back home and crawl into bed, I felt it.

Tears began to form because I recognized that feeling, yet lately I hadn’t given myself space for it.

Joy.

Not the confetti-and-fireworks kind. The quiet, steady, “somebody sees me” kind.

The kind that doesn’t care what you look like or whether you remembered to brush all your teeth.

Our joy doesn’t wait for rest.

It shows up in the tired.

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.”

— James 1:2–3

Get Your Free Assessment

When Your Feelings Tell You Otherwise...

The exhaustion tells you:

“Joy is for people who have their lives together.”

“You can’t be joyful and tired at the same time.”

“Something must be wrong with you if you can’t feel happy.”

“Joy will come later. Right now, just grind and survive.”

I believed every one of those for longer than I want to admit. I kept putting joy on layaway…“I’ll pick it up when life calms down.”

But life never calmed down. And joy was never meant to be postponed.

I was the woman in the baseball cap and sweatpants who almost missed it. Almost scrolled past the voice message. Almost let the exhaustion convince me that I didn’t deserve to feel anything good until I had my life back in order.

But joy doesn’t wait for order.

It interrupts the mess.

The Deeper Truth

James doesn’t say “Consider it pure joy when your trials are over.” He says “when you FACE trials.”

• In the middle.

• During.

• While it’s still happening.

That changes everything.

Joy in Scripture is never dependent on circumstances. It’s dependent on connection.

On the presence of God in the middle of the mess.

Paul wrote some of his most joy-filled letters from prison.

David wrote psalms of praise while hiding in caves.

Hannah worshipped before her prayer was answered.

Joy isn’t the absence of struggle. It’s the presence of God ‘IN’ the struggle. And He is present.

Even now.

Even here.

Even in the sweatpants-and-baseball-cap moments when you’re hoping nobody from work, school or even church sees you in the produce aisle.

“You make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand.”

— Psalm 16:11

Joy in His presence.

Not joy in His fix.

Not joy in His removal of your problems.

Joy in His presence.

Which means you can have it right now!

Tired and all.

That Tuesday in the grocery store, God didn’t fix my exhaustion.

He didn’t clear my schedule or deposit energy into my empty tank.

He sent a friend’s voice into my phone to remind me I was seen.

That was it.

That was enough.

Joy showed up not because my circumstances changed, but because His presence broke through.

His presence broke through via my friend who was ‘souled’ out for Christ, whose words I trusted when she spoke.

And her voicemail meant everything to me.

What This Means for You

Sweet friend, stop waiting for the tired to leave before you let the joy in.

Joy isn’t the prize at the end of the exhaustion tunnel.

It’s the light inside it.

Look for it today:

• In the friend who texts or leaves a voicemail at the right moment,

• In the sun hitting your face while you wait in the carpool line.

• In the child’s laughter you almost missed because you were scrolling.

• In the breath prayer you whisper when nobody’s watching.

• In the produce aisle on a Tuesday when you look your absolute worst and God whispers, “I see you. And I’m here.”

Our joy is already here!

We just have to stop telling ourselves we’re too tired to notice it.

Remember This Truth

Joy is not the absence of exhaustion.

It’s the presence of God in the middle of it.

You don’t have to choose between tired and joyful. You can be both.

And both is holy.

Stop putting joy on layaway. It was already paid for.

In full. On a cross.

And it’s yours today, sweatpants and all.

An Invitation

This week, I want you to go on a joy hunt.

Every day, name one moment of joy.

Not happiness.

Not everything-is-perfect bliss.

Just one small, quiet moment where you felt God’s presence.

Where something made your soul exhale.

Where joy showed up uninvited and didn’t care that you weren’t ready for company.

Write it down. By the end of the week, you’ll have a list that proves our joy doesn’t wait for rest.

It meets us in the middle.

📣Reply or leave a comment and tell me: “Where did joy show up for you today?” I’d love to celebrate it with you.

Joyfully yours,

Share Joy God’s Way™

Ten months ago, I started the Joy God’s Way^® Substack journey. Imagine not being active on social media, therefore starting from scratch. No followers, no subscribers and no friends or family because I was used to doing things on my own.

Having no background or experience about this Substack platform, I jumped in with both feet. It was recommended that I follow two specific newsletters on the platform, but at the time it only overwhelmed me.

I wrote my first article, closed my eyes and posted it. I immediately got five subscribers who consisted of one friend, one cousin, and three individuals that I was growing with in a Double Win community. For months and months I wrote various articles about joy in different seasons of life. (Feel free to check out the archives to see more).

Month after month after month after month and so it went. You write and you wait. You write and you gain maybe one or two subscribers a month. By the eigth month (end of March 2026) I was 26 subscribers strong.

As time went on, my focus and anticipation for growing my newsletter business reminded me of the Chinese Bamboo tree.

✨Note: This will not be a story of whether or not the ‘bamboo tree’ is a tree, plant or type of grass. For the sake of my story, it’s a tree. 😊

For more on my Substack journey in the following links.👇🏼

Joy God’s Way®

Joy, Doubt, and Viral Growth: An Honest Conversation About Starting on Substack

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a month ago · 3 likes · 2 comments · Tina Coleman and Sinem Günel

The Chinese Bamboo Tree

Have you ever heard of the Chinese Bamboo Tree?

You plant the seed.

You water it.

You fertilize the soil.

You show up, day after day, doing the faithful work of tending something you believe in.

And at the end of year one? Nothing. Not a single sprout. Not one green leaf poking through the dirt.

Year two? Nothing.

Year three? Still nothing.

Year four? You guessed it. Nothing visible. Just dirt. Just you with a watering can and a whole lot of faith in something nobody else can see.

Your neighbors think you’re crazy.

Your friends have moved on to faster-growing things.

And that voice in your head? She’s having a field day.

But then, in the fifth year, something happens. That little seed, the one that looked like a failure for four straight years, breaks through the soil and grows up to 90 feet tall in six weeks.

Ninety. Feet. In six. Weeks.

Scientists have measured it growing 48 inches in a single day. You can literally stand there and watch it happen.

But here’s the question that changes everything: Did the bamboo tree grow 90 feet in six weeks? Or did it grow 90 feet in five years?

Because for four years, while nothing was visible above ground, that tree was building a root system so massive, so deep, so intentionally engineered that when the time came to rise, nothing could stop it.

It wasn’t doing nothing. It was doing everything. You just couldn’t see it yet.

Sweet friend, I think some of us are in our bamboo years. And I think God has something to say about that.

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“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” — Galatians 6:9

Paul wrote those words to a church that was tired. They were doing the right things, planting the right seeds, showing up faithfully. But they weren’t seeing the harvest yet. And they were starting to wonder if the harvest was even coming.

Sound familiar?

“At the proper time.”

Not at YOUR proper time.

Not when your timeline says it should happen.

Not when your Instagram feed makes you feel like you’re behind.

At the proper time.

God’s time! The time when the roots are ready to hold what’s coming.

When Your Feelings Tell You Otherwise...

The resistance to slow growth sounds like:

“If this were really from God, it would be happening faster.”

“Everyone else is growing. Why am I stuck?”

“Maybe I’m not doing enough. Maybe I need a different strategy.”

“This doesn’t look or feel like a blessing. This looks and feels like failure.”

“I’ve been watering this thing for years and I have nothing to show for it.”

I hear those whispers. I’ve had every single one of them. I’ve spoken those words. Sometimes in the same afternoon. Sometimes even in the same breath.

There are seasons where I’ve looked at the ground I’ve been tending and wanted to scream, “Where is the growth?!” I’ve compared my dirt patch to someone else’s full bloom. I’ve questioned whether God forgot where He planted me.

But here’s what the bamboo taught me: the absence of visible growth is not the absence of growth.

Let me say that again for the woman in the back who needed to hear it:

“The absence of visible growth is not the absence of growth!”

What looks like nothing from the surface might be the deepest, most important work you’ve ever done. God doesn’t waste seasons. He builds foundations.

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The Deeper Truth

Here’s what I love about this bamboo metaphor: the tree doesn’t spend four years doing nothing. It spends four years becoming capable of holding what’s coming.

Without those roots, a 90-foot tree would collapse under its own weight. The very thing that felt like wasted time was the thing that made the breakthrough sustainable.

God works the same way.

“He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.”

— Ecclesiastes 3:11

Beautiful in its time. Not in your timeline. Not in the world’s timeline. In HIS time.

Think about the people in Scripture who waited:

• Sarah waited about 25 years from God's initial promise to Abraham until she finally gave birth to Isaac at age 90.

• Joseph spent 13 years between the dream and the palace, and most of those years were spent in a pit and a prison.

• Moses spent 40 years in a desert before God called him back.

• Hannah endured years of barrenness and yearly pilgrimages to Shiloh before the Lord remembered her and gave her Samuel.

• David was anointed king as a teenager and didn’t wear the crown until he was 30.

None of them were doing nothing during the wait. They were putting down roots. Learning trust. Building the character that would be required to carry the calling.

And here’s the part nobody talks about:

• If the bamboo farmer had gotten impatient at year three and dug up the seed to check on it? The seed would have died.

• If he’d walked away in year four because he couldn’t see results? Dead.

The growth required his continued faithfulness even when there was zero visible evidence that it was working.

“Be patient, then, brothers and sisters, until the Lord’s coming. See how the farmer waits for the land to yield its valuable crop, patiently waiting for the autumn and spring rains. You too, be patient and stand firm, because the Lord’s coming is near.” — James 5:7–8

The farmer doesn’t dig up the seeds to check if they’re working. He trusts the process. He trusts the rain. He trusts the One who controls the seasons.

And notice: James doesn’t say the farmer is passive.

He’s waiting AND working.

He’s patient AND present.

He keeps showing up.

That’s the bamboo way.

That’s the faith way.

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What This Means for You

Sweet friend, maybe you’re in a bamboo season right now.

I need you to hear this: something IS happening. You just can’t see it yet.

The roots are growing. The foundation is deepening. God is doing underground work that will make your above-ground breakthrough unshakeable.

So don’t dig up the seed. Don’t abandon the ground you’ve been watering. Don’t compare your dirt to someone else’s bloom.

Your bloom is coming. And when it does? Ninety feet, sweet friend. Ninety feet.

Remember This Truth

Slow growth is not failed growth. It’s deep growth.

The thing that looks like nothing from the surface might be the strongest foundation you’ve ever built.

God doesn’t waste your waiting. He uses every single day of it.

Keep watering.

Keep showing up.

Your bamboo season has a breakthrough on the other side.

An Invitation

This week, I want you to think about your bamboo season. What are you tending right now that hasn’t broken through the surface yet? What seed have you planted that feels like it’s taking forever?

Instead of digging it up, try this: write it down. Name the seed. Then underneath it, write: “God is building my roots.”

📣 What’s your bamboo? What seed are you faithfully watering right now? Reply or comment below.⬇️

Leave a comment

Let’s believe together for the breakthrough that is coming. For God said ‘it is done!’

You are not stuck.

You are growing.

And you are not alone in this.🙌🏼

Joyfully yours,

🌿Rooted in Scripture. Renewed in Spirit. Restored in Joy! 🌿

Today, I had the honor of being a guest on a livestream with Sinem Günel of Write^.Build^.Scale (“WBS”). Sinem is one of my coaches with WBS. I’m sure you have seen her on Substack or YouTube, along with Philip (her husband and co-business partner) and co-business partner Jari Roomer.

This was such an exciting opportunity! Livestreaming is an area on Substack I'll be using very soon for the JGW community and beyond.

We discussed many aspects of the Joy God’s Way^® newsletter’s journey, from its very beginning to where we are now. Also, this livestream was a wonderful introduction into the WBS Masterclass that will be live on Tuesday, June 16th, 2026. I highly recommend it.

Before joining the WBS community, I was in a program that I paid for coaching to grow personally and professionally. It was well worth it, because it would have taken me longer to make so many discoveries on my own without any accountability. This prepped me, along with a lot of prayer, to start Joy God’s Way^® before knowing anything about Substack. In fact, my coach Marissa Hyatt of Double Win coaching, recommended Substack to me.

Currently, I am a 1:1 client with Jari, as well as a member of the WBS community where we are learning together from the coaches and one another.

While you’re here, I have announced that I post something every Friday in the Joy God’s Way^® Chat. It’s just a place where we hang out to see who’s doing what (ie. gardening, cooking a favorite dish, resting at the beach and more). No work! It’s a place to rest.🌿

I would like to take this time to thank Sinem for the honor of being live with her and having this recording to share.

This continues to be quite the journey and I thank Write^.Build^.Scale for the tools (as a novice in this space) to gain the confidence and understanding of how the Substack platform works, as it continues to evolve. Most of all, I appreciate how they listen and process my questions, when I may not have known how to frame the question using 21st century jargon.🤣

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Also, thank you , , , , , and many others for tuning into my live video with !

Let’s grow together!

Joyfully yours,

P.S. Join me for my next live video in the app coming your way.

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“Those who sow with tears will reap with songs of joy.” — Psalm 126:5

There are mornings when the ache still brings memories of a scent, a song, a date circled in memory. Grief doesn’t always roar. Sometimes it hums softly beneath the rhythm of our days. But even when it does, joy still waits nearby…patient and kind, like sunlight pressing through clouds.

It takes time.

The Walk That Brought It All Back

This morning, something in my body kept telling me to get out of the house and take a walk on this beautiful day. I had just finished a guided meditation by Sarah Blondin titled “I Am Here. I Am Home,” which was recommended to me by one of the amazing Full Focus coaches, Marissa Hyatt, my personal business coach at the time.

As I followed the prompts, tears began to fall. I was settling my body and mind into the present moment, and something inside me was stirring — making a deeper connection than I expected.

When the meditation ended, I knew I couldn’t rush back to my normal rhythm. God was doing something sacred in me, and I needed to be obedient to that moment. So I ventured out and began my walk.

I love walking through the village in my local community near the marina. There’s always something special going on — the upcoming Wednesday Night Market Place event with cornhole competitions, food trucks, Pilates in the park, live music, and countless ways to experience joy.

And then I came across the bench.

The bench where Mommy had rested after her victorious walk around the village path in late May 2024. I remember her saying, “Look, daughter! I walked the whole path!”

That sight brought back a flood of memories of the beautiful woman she was, inside and out, and the amazing mother she had always been. I could spend a lifetime writing about her.

Mommy went home to be with Jesus on June 6, 2024. Even with the time that has passed, I still thank God for the opportunity to have had her in my care during that final month she spent with my husband and me.

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One Month of Everything

In late March 2024, Mommy purchased a first-class, one-way ticket from California to Florida. When I picked her up from the airport, an attendant wheeled her to baggage claim so she wouldn’t have to walk the long distance. She looked a bit more frail than when I’d last seen her the year before, but still so beautiful in her favorite purple warm-up outfit, the one she always loved.

We embraced as if it had been forever, though it had only been about a year since her last visit in July 2023, following the celebration of life for Daddy after his passing in June 2023. So much had happened since then. Daddy’s passing had also coincided with the loss of two of my very best friends just months apart. Those stories I’ll tell another time, because this one is about Mommy.

Before she came to Florida, we had sold her home so she could begin a new chapter in North Carolina, living near her nieces. It was perfect, a short flight from Florida and just an hour’s drive to her new place. I started planning my life around visiting her often. Time was precious. She was in her early eighties, and though she didn’t let on how sick she really was, I sensed it.

Within a week of her arrival, we went to see her favorite entertainer, Johnny Mathis. It was our fourth or fifth time seeing him together, and I was so grateful for that night. Sitting beside her, I had a quiet feeling this would be our last concert together. There was something in the way she watched him on stage, singing along softly.

The following week, we traveled to North Carolina to see the lot she’d purchased for her new home. She spent time with her nieces while I rested from a cold. After four days, we returned to Florida.

Back home, we visited the Ringling Museum, the famous mansion, the grounds, and what’s known as the “Clown School,” all on the same enchanting, breathtaking property. One thing that was especially important, Mommy trusted me to arrange a visit with my dentist for some issues she’d been having with her upper dentures. After years of struggling with a set that never fit properly, she finally got new ones. She looked even more beautiful, and I was so happy she could eat and speak comfortably again.

We enjoyed seafood dinners, watched a few NBA Finals games, and sat on the lanai by the pool overlooking the preserve, where the cranes, gators, and other wildlife entertained us. Mommy loved to read, so I took her to a local bookstore where she picked out a couple of books, a crossword puzzle book, and a bookmark with Proverbs 31:25 inscribed on beautiful purple leather.

The next day, I wanted to make sure she got to see the bay. We spent about an hour on the shores of Bird Key with our favorite Starbucks drinks, hers was a Grande Emperor’s Clouds & Mist Tea. We walked for a bit, then sat on a bench and watched the clouds drift by, with a brief light rain. I loved that for her.

In that single month, we visited more places together than I had in three years of living in Florida.

Oh! I can’t forget to mention the attention she got from a couple of very flirty elderly gentlemen who complimented her outfits and her gorgeous gray and white hair. I loved that for her, even though she wasn’t very comfortable with the attention.

The Morning Everything Changed

Then came the morning of May 20, 2024.

I noticed Mommy hadn’t come out for breakfast. When I checked on her, still in bed with her back to me, she said she was tired and her stomach ached. I asked if she wanted to see a doctor. She said no. After about twenty minutes, she came out. I made her a small bowl of oatmeal, the way she liked it. She tried to eat, but couldn’t.

She went back to bed. I asked if she wanted me to call her doctor. She said yes.

My spirit urged me to call 911, and I’m grateful I did.

When the EMTs arrived, they told me she was very sick and might not make it through the night. All I kept thinking was how just a week ago, we had celebrated Mother’s Day with her.

Everything happened so fast. They took her to the hospital just five minutes away. When I arrived and was allowed to see her, she was moving strangely in the bed. Later, I learned she was seizing. I heard her faintly say, “It hurts,” her eyes unfocused. I told them what I knew of her medical history; kidney disease, a recent fistula placement, diabetes, but soon she began to crash.

They rushed her down a long yellow hallway. I ran beside the gurney, praying silently, while a hospital worker ran yards behind, trying to get my mother’s insurance information. The doctor, one of four staff members pushing the gurney, finally screamed back to the worker, “That can wait!” That moment, so chaotic, so surreal, still lingers in my memory.

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“That’s My Daughter, Tina”

After surgery, Mommy was moved to the ICU. I had brought her Proverbs 31 bookmark, which was more for my much needed strength. I asked the nurses if I could hang it on her bed. They said yes.

It took nearly three days for her to wake. Then she did, she knew me. She could speak. I was so thankful.

The nurses came and went. Two physical therapists arrived with coloring pages, asking her to describe the pictures and to tell them who I was.

She said, “Yes, that’s my daughter Tina.”

I loved hearing that.

She eventually grew frustrated with the repetition. “How many times do I have to tell you who she is and who is in those pictures?” she snapped. And then, suddenly, she started singing “Sweet Caroline.” I joined in, harmonizing with her on the “Bah, bah, bah.”

That moment filled me with such hope.

But just moments later, the two physical therapists tried to lift her. They kept pushing and trying to get her to move, just days after the trauma. All that movement caused her body to give out. She froze. Her eyes stared blankly into space. A nurse rushed in and realized Mommy had suffered a stroke. They announced the code and the room number.

Those earlier moments were the last time I heard her voice.

The Hardest Decision

Following the stroke, Mommy spent another week and a half in the hospital; blood transfusions, dialysis, and so many prayers. A CT scan revealed white spots on her brain causing irreparable damage. She would never recover.

I had notified my brother the day Mommy was admitted. He and his fiancée flew to Florida two days later. After much discussion, we agreed: Mommy wouldn’t want to live on a feeding tube and dialysis. His fiancée, a nurse, confirmed that Mommy had told her the same thing during an earlier stay with them in California.

After that very difficult decision, we moved Mommy to hospice, just down the street. I checked to see if the bookmark — Proverbs 31:25 on purple leather — had traveled with her. The EMTs kindly told me she had held onto it as they wheeled her gurney into her from the ambulance to her room.

A Sacred Goodbye

The Hospice House was a lovely, peaceful place with a wonderful staff. Her room faced a lake, and I always left the blinds open for her. The staff treated her with the dignity and grace she deserved. On one visit, I was able to give her a lavender massage while Johnny Mathis played softly in the background.

On what would be our final day together with her, my brother and his fiancée came to visit and told me they would be leaving. They said their goodbyes.

When they left the room, I pulled out my phone, read Proverbs 31 to her, and thanked her for the unconditional love she had always extended to my brother and me. I recorded that precious last moment. The audio was faint, but you can hear Mommy breathing; steady, labored, precious.

After moments of knowing I wasn’t going to be able to hold on to her much longer, I prayed and thanked the Lord for giving me life through such a beautiful person.

I left the Hospice House feeling empty and, in a strange way, alone.

That night, the call came.

I returned to the Hospice House for our final time together. Seeing her there so peaceful.

She was gone. My dear, sweet Mommy went home to be with Jesus.

12:34 O’Clock

As I go forward in living my life without her physical presence, I still see her in small things: a lavender bloom, a classic song, the glow of the digital clock reading 12:34 PM.

That was our little joke. “Mommy, it’s one-two-three-four o’clock!” She’d roll her eyes, and I’d grin. She was always about numbers and didn’t think it was funny.

Now, when I see 12:34 PM, I smile and say, “I love you, Mommy. I miss you more.” I tell her about my day and remind her that she’s in the best place, with everyone she loved who went before her.

Even now, I still miss her every day. Some days there are light tears. Other times, it’s a guttural cry. As my life goes on without her physical presence, her laughter, her calling to say “Hello, darling daughter! It’s your mother,” the reality is that this is the part of life you can never prepare yourself for.

But God!

Yes, Mommy. You most certainly finished the path and your race. You finished well. ❤️

Finding Your Smile Again

Joy after loss isn’t loud or instant. It comes quietly, like dawn after rain.

It’s the strength to keep walking, to laugh again, to notice beauty even while the heart still trembles.

If you are grieving, hear this:

Smiling again isn’t betrayal. It is an honor.

You are living the joy your loved one helped plant within you.

Know that Jehovah Nacham has been walking with you and hears your cries.

“Jehovah Nacham — The Lord is my Comforter.”

Prayer

Lord, thank You for love that outlives the body. Teach us to hold our memories not as weights, but as wings. When grief whispers, help us listen with gratitude and grace. Let joy rise; slow, steady, eternal until we meet again in Your light. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

In Loving Memory of Mommy 🌷

Love, Tina 💖

Dear JGW friend, if this story spoke to you, share it with someone who needs to know that joy can rise again. Together, we can be light-bearers for one another — spreading hope, faith, and joy, God’s way. ✨

Once upon a time, there was a woman I used to know very well.

She ran on six hours of sleep (barely) and called it discipline. She worked a full-time job with overtime shifts sprinkled in on the days she wasn’t sitting in a college classroom three nights a week, two hours a session, trying to build a future while barely surviving the present.

She sang in the choir every other Sunday or more, sometimes all three services. She led women’s Bible study every Wednesday night. She volunteered at church like her salvation depended on it. She ran an Avon business on the side while partnering with the local women’s gyms, because apparently one hustle was never enough.

And on the weekends? She found time to party two nights or spend time with friends, because if she stopped moving, she might have to feel something. And feeling something was not on the schedule.

She struggled through relationships that kept stalling, two of which absorbed every ounce of her emotional bandwidth. She felt abandoned by them. She went looking for love to replace the hurt, only to land in another narcissistic relationship that took more than it gave. She was laid off six times during the first twenty years of her adulthood. Six times. Each one a fresh wound on top of an old one.

And she never once said ‘no’ without feeling guilty about it for days.

She meal-prepped on Sundays when she had enough strength or money to pull together something for the week. She tried to keep up with the bills and rent so she wouldn’t be evicted. (There’s a story behind where she was living and the favor she was given for being honest about her financial situation. That’s another story for another day.)

She listened to Dr. Charles Stanley every morning at 7:30am because she was moving too fast to take time, other than women’s Bible study, to really dive into the Word. It was the one thread of connection she could grab while running full speed. And still she was tired. But she kept pushing forward.

She cried alone on her living room sofa. No audience. No comfort. No one to hand her a tissue or say, “You don’t have to carry this.”

She was single. She was alone. Too embarrassed to let anyone know the truth about how she was really feeling. Too afraid to ask for help, because she was the one who was strong for everyone else.

She was the shoulder. The prayer warrior. The fixer. The one who showed up.

And it was just too much for someone who lived alone, feeling isolated emotionally and physically, still trying to push through because that was all she knew how to do.

That woman was me.

And I couldn’t stop. Not because I didn’t want to. Because I didn’t know how.

Rest wasn’t just hard for me. It felt impossible. Like asking my lungs to stop breathing or my mind to stop racing. The engine didn’t have an off switch. It only had faster.

“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed — or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”

— Luke 10:41–42

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When Your Feelings Tell You Otherwise...

If you’re that woman who can’t stop, the noise in your head probably sounds like this:

▫️“If I stop, who’s going to do it?”

▫️“Resting makes me feel lazy, not refreshed.”

▫️“I’ve tried to slow down. It just makes me anxious.”

▫️“I don’t even know what rest looks like for me.”

▫️“Stillness feels more exhausting than busyness.”

I’ve lived inside every single one of those thoughts. And here’s what I’ve learned: the inability to rest is not a productivity problem. It’s a trust problem.

When we can’t stop, it’s usually because we believe, deep down, that the world needs us to keep it spinning. That everything depends on us. That if we slow down, something, someone, everything will fall apart.

And that belief? It’s exhausting. Because it puts us in God’s seat. And we were never built for that chair.

The Deeper Truth

Martha was busy. She was serving. She was doing good, important work. And Jesus didn’t shame her for working. He pointed out what she was missing.

“You are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed or indeed only one.”

Few things are needed.

• Not all the things.

• Not every committee.

• Not every responsibility.

• Not every expectation you’ve piled on yourself or that others have piled on you.

Few things. Maybe only one.

Mary chose to sit at Jesus’ feet. Not because she was lazy. Because she understood that presence is more valuable than performance.

Here’s what years of being Martha taught me: busyness was my hiding place. In the constant doing, I didn’t have to sit with my thoughts. I didn’t have to face my fears. I didn’t have to ask hard questions about what was really driving my need to be needed. I didn’t have to provide an answer to those who thought I was too busy to ask.

Stillness was scary because it was honest. And honest was uncomfortable.

But here’s what Mary knew: the presence of Jesus is worth more than all the serving in the world. And sometimes the most productive thing you can do is absolutely nothing except sit at His feet and breathe.

I know, because I spent years doing everything but that. I was singing in the choir, leading Bible study, running a business, maintaining relationships that were draining me dry, and listening to Dr. Stanley on the car radio because it was the only stillness I could manage while driving 65 miles an hour, while my mind was constantly working at 100+ miles an hour. I was doing things FOR God while running FROM the stillness He was calling me to.

And the whole time, He was whispering what He whispered to Martha:

“Only one thing is needed.”

What This Means for You

If rest feels impossible for you, I want you to know: you’re not broken. You’ve just been running so long that your nervous system has forgotten how to be still.

Here are some things that helped me learn to rest when rest felt impossible:

1. I started small. Five minutes of sitting with no phone, no agenda, no noise. Just breathing. It was excruciating at first. Then it became the best five minutes of my day.

2. I named my anxiety. When stillness made me anxious, I asked, “What am I afraid will happen if I stop?” Writing the answer down took the power out of it.

3. I gave myself permission to be bad at resting. Just like any new skill, it takes practice. I didn’t beat myself up for the racing thoughts. I just kept showing up to the stillness.

I remembered that rest is obedience. When my guilt said “You should be doing something,” I reminded myself: “I AM doing something. I’m obeying God’s command to rest.”

“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

His grace is sufficient. Not your energy. Not your willpower. Not your ability to push through one more day on four hours of sleep and a prayer. His grace. And that grace shows up strongest in the very place where your strength runs out.

Remember This Truth

If you can’t stop, it’s not because you’re too strong. It might be because you’re too afraid. Trust me when I say that. Remember when I said my mind activity was at 100+ miles an hour?

Maybe you’re afraid of what you’ll feel. Afraid of what you’ll face. Afraid of what will happen if you’re not the one holding it all together.

But God is holding it together for you. He always has been. And He’s inviting you to sit down, breathe, and let Him.

Rest is not the absence of doing. It’s the presence of trust. And learning to trust is the bravest, hardest, most worthwhile work you’ll ever do.

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An Invitation🌿

This week, I want to invite you to try the five-minute sit.

🔸Set a timer.

🔸Put your phone face down or close your laptop.

🔸Close your eyes. And just breathe. Inhale for 4. Hold for 4. Exhale for 4. Repeat as necessary.

🔸Ask the Lord for forgiveness. Repent.

🔸Move forward and breathe. Inhale for 4. Hold for 4. Exhale for 4.

🔸Thank you Lord for being there for you.

No prayer list. No worship music. No agenda. Release it. Just you and God and five minutes of doing absolutely nothing.

If anxiety shows up, let it. Name it. Then let it pass.

You’ve got this! I have faith in you.🌿

📣What happens when you try to be still? Is it peaceful or panic-inducing? Reply or comment below. No judgment, just honesty. I’d love to hear your honest answer.

-Blessings and joy, Tina💖

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I can’t believe I’m about to share this story, but here we go. I had a flashback regarding a brilliant idea on how I was going to ‘fix’ my exhaustion, by scheduling a relaxing spa day.

I booked the massage. Got the facial. Sat in the sauna until my skin radiated a healthy glow. You know what? I could have saved some money by sitting outside in the hot and humid Florida sunshine. There I go again, chasing squirrels while sharing. Back to my time at the spa.

While there, I found unfamiliar peace while drinking cucumber water out of a glass with a real lime and mint leaves in it, because apparently that’s what rested people do. Then I went to the softly lit ‘resting’ room, found a nice spa bed in the corner, with the scent of lavendar permeating throughout the room. I laid down and closed my eyes.

That spa experience took about four hours, I felt amazing.

Upon returning to my car, I checked my phone, and within twelve minutes I was right back where I started. Heart racing. Mind spinning. That familiar knot in my stomach tightening like it had never left. I was supposed to feel better…longer! Why can’t I get a break?

Because the spa didn’t fix the problem. It just gave me a really expensive nap. I wish I could laugh about it, but it’s the honest truth.

The real issue wasn’t that I needed relaxation. It was that my entire life was built on a pace I was never designed to sustain.

“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is — his good, pleasing and perfect will.”

— Romans 12:2

When Your Feelings Tell You Otherwise...

When we think about relief from exhaustion, we usually think big:

“If I could just get a vacation, I’d be fine.”

“Once this season is over, things will slow down.”

“I need a complete life overhaul.”

“Nothing will change unless everything changes.”

I believed all of these. And they kept me stuck. Because when relief feels massive, we never start. The mountain looks too big to climb, so we sit at the bottom and keep burning out.

Talk about burn out…I had worked almost 20 years before I had taken my first ‘real’ vacation. Ugh!

But here’s what I’ve learned the hard way: it’s not the big changes that save us. It’s the small shifts.

The Deeper Truth

Romans 12:2 doesn’t say “be transformed by a complete life overhaul.” It says “be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” Renewing. Present tense. Ongoing. A little at a time.

Think about how God works in Scripture. He didn’t part the Red Sea and then teleport the Israelites to the Promised Land. They walked. Step by step. Day by day. Manna came one morning at a time.

He didn’t heal Naaman with a dramatic miracle. He told him to go wash in a river. Seven times. One dip at a time.

And Jesus? He didn’t feed the 5,000 with a catered banquet. He took what was small, five loaves and two fish, and multiplied it.

God specializes in small things becoming big things. And that’s exactly how relief from exhaustion works.

Here are the small shifts that changed everything for me:

I started saying “let me think about it” instead of “yes” on the spot. Just buying myself 24 hours before committing to anything transformed my calendar.

I set a phone curfew. Nothing after 9pm. My friends and family were like “what if there’s an emergency?” My response…please call 911, I would have to do that anyway. The world will survive without me during that time.

I built in 10-minute buffers between meetings and commitments so I wasn’t constantly rushing from one thing to the next.

I started asking myself one question before adding anything to my plate: “Does this bring life, or does it drain it?”

I gave myself permission to leave things unfinished at the end of the day. The to-do list will be there tomorrow. And tomorrow is not my enemy.

None of these were dramatic. None required a sabbatical or a move to the countryside or a complete identity shift. They were small. Doable. Sustainable.

And together, over time, they changed my life.

What This Means for You

Sweet friend, you don’t need a whole new life. You need a few new rhythms.

What’s one small shift you could make this week? Just one. Not five. Not a whole system. One thing that protects your energy instead of spending it.

Maybe it’s saying no to one optional commitment. Maybe it’s going to bed 30 minutes earlier. Maybe it’s taking a walk at lunch instead of eating at your desk.

Start small. Stay consistent. And watch God multiply what seems insignificant into something that changes everything.

“Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin.” — Zechariah 4:10 (NLT)

Remember This Truth

You don’t need a complete overhaul. You need a next right step.

Small shifts lead to big relief. One boundary at a time. One “no” at a time. One deep breath at a time.

And the God who takes five loaves and two fish and feeds thousands? He can take your one small shift and build a whole new rhythm out of it.

Start today. Start small. Start believing that you don’t have to change everything to change something.

An Invitation

Before you scroll away, I want you to name it:

What’s one small shift you can make this week?

Maybe it’s a phone curfew. Maybe it’s the 24-hour “let me think about it” rule. Maybe it’s leaving the dishes in the sink and going to bed on time.

Reply or leave a comment and tell me your one shift. I’ll be cheering you on. Because small steps, taken together, lead somewhere beautiful.

Joyfully yours,

Tina 💛

📣 What’s one small shift you’re making this week? Reply or comment below. Small steps, big relief.

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You’re tired. But not the kind of tired that a good night’s sleep can fix.

This is the kind of tired that has settled into your bones, your spirit, and the quiet spaces where joy used to live. And if you’re being honest, you’ve been carrying it for a long time.

But here’s something most people won’t tell you, exhaustion doesn’t wear just one face:

• It shows up as the body that never feels rested no matter how much sleep you get.

• It shows up as the emotions that have gone flat, the tears that come from nowhere, the numbness you can’t explain.

• It shows up as the distance between you and God that keeps growing even though you know it shouldn’t.

• It shows up as the hundred decisions you make for everyone else every single day until you can’t face one more.

• It shows up as the compassion you’ve poured out so generously that there’s nothing left for yourself.

• It shows up as the caregiving that never ends, for aging parents, for growing children, for everyone but you.

• It shows up as the soul that has been running on empty for so long that you’ve forgotten what full even feels like.

Seven faces. And most of us are wearing more than one.

So which face of exhaustion is running your life?

I created a free self-assessment to help you find out. Not to diagnose you. Not to add one more thing to your list. But to help you finally name what you’ve been carrying so you can begin to set it down.

It takes just 5 to 10 minutes. It’s printable. And it might be the first time someone has asked you to look at your own exhaustion with honesty and without guilt.

This is your first step transforming from exhaustion to joy, God’s way!💛

👉 Download Your Free Assessment: The 7 Faces of Exhaustion™

Sweet sister, you were never meant to carry it all alone. Let’s find out what you’ve been carrying, and then let’s walk toward something lighter, together.

-Blessings and joy,

Share Joy God’s Way™

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For years, I treated my exhaustion like an inconvenience. You know the “why do I have to feel like this, right now, in this moment?”

Something to push past. Something to manage. Something to medicate with coffee, willpower, and one more worship song on repeat.

I’d wake up tired and think, “What’s wrong with me?” I’d drag through the afternoon and think, “Why can’t I just be normal?” I’d collapse into bed at night and think, “Tomorrow will be different.”

It never was. How was I ever going to make it through the day? Why does this keep happening to me?

Until one day, instead of asking “What’s wrong with me?” I asked a different question:

“What is my exhaustion trying to tell me?”

That question changed everything.

“Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”

— Psalm 139:23–24

When Your Feelings Tell You Otherwise...

When exhaustion knocks, here’s what most of us hear:

“Just push through. You’ll feel better once you get moving.”

“It’s just a busy season. This too shall pass.”

“Everyone’s tired. Stop making it a big deal.”

“You just need more coffee. Or more faith. Or more discipline.”

“Listening to your body is indulgent.”

I said all of these to myself, sometimes in the same morning. And each one did the same thing: it told me to ignore the message my body and soul were desperately trying to deliver.

But here’s what I’ve come to understand: exhaustion is not the problem. It’s the symptom. It’s the check engine light on the dashboard of your life. And ignoring it doesn’t make the engine run better. It just guarantees a breakdown.

The Deeper Truth

When I finally stopped long enough to listen, here’s what my exhaustion was telling me:

• My body was saying: “You’re sleeping six hours a night and calling it enough. It’s not.”

• My emotions were saying: “You’ve been carrying grief you haven’t processed. It’s leaking out as irritability and numbness.”

• My mind was saying: “You’ve said yes to so many things that you’ve lost track of what actually matters to you.”

• My spirit was saying: “You’ve been so busy doing things FOR God that you’ve stopped being WITH God.”

Each one was a different message. Each one required a different response. And none of them could be fixed by just “pushing through.”

“Be still, and know that I am God.” — Psalm 46:10

“Be still” isn’t just a suggestion for quiet time. It’s an invitation to stop running long enough to hear what God (and your own body) have been trying to say.

Think about Elijah after Mount Carmel. God didn’t speak to him in the earthquake, the wind, or the fire. He spoke in the still, small voice. But Elijah had to stop running, stop performing, and stop proving before he could hear it.

Your exhaustion might be God’s way of getting you to stop. Not to punish you, but to speak to you.

What if the very thing you’ve been fighting is actually fighting for you?

What This Means for You

Please hear me out, my dear friend. Your exhaustion is not your enemy. It’s your body’s way of waving a white flag and saying, “Something needs to change.”

Instead of pushing past it, what if you paused and asked it a few questions?

• What am I doing that I need to stop doing?

• What am I avoiding that I need to face?

• What am I carrying that isn’t mine to carry?

• Where have I been running from God instead of toward Him?

These aren’t comfortable questions. But they’re the ones that lead to freedom.

You don’t have to answer them all today. But start with one. Just one honest conversation between you and God about what’s really going on under the surface of your tired.

Remember This Truth

Your exhaustion is not a character flaw. It’s a conversation.

Your body is not betraying you. It’s protecting you. That’s your brain telling your body to keep you safe.

And the God who created you with limits is not disappointed when you reach them. He’s been waiting there all along, ready to meet you in the place where your strength runs out and His begins.

Listen to your ‘tired.’ It has something important to say.

And the One who searches hearts and knows anxious thoughts? He’s listening too. He’s not waiting with judgment. He’s waiting with bread and water and a gentle voice that says, “Rest. I’ve got this. I’ve got you!”

An Invitation

This week, I want to invite you to try something different.

Instead of pushing through your tired, pause and ask it:

“What are you trying to tell me?”

Sit with the answer. Write it down if you can. Bring it to God in prayer. And see what He reveals.

You might discover that your exhaustion has been carrying a message you’ve been too busy to hear. And that message might just be the key to the rest you’ve been searching for.

Reply or leave a comment and tell me: what is your exhaustion trying to tell you? I’d love to hear what you discover.

Joyfully yours,

Tina 💖

📣What is your exhaustion trying to tell you? Hit reply or comment below. Sometimes naming it out loud is the first step toward hearing God’s answer.

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“She’s so strong.” “I don’t know how she does it.” “You’re the strongest woman I know.”

I collected those words like trophies. Every compliment about my strength went straight to the shelf where I kept my identity. I was the one who held it together. The one who didn’t crumble. The one everyone could count on.

Until the day I realized that the “strong” or “strong enough” labels I had worn like a crown, had become a prison to my soul.

Because somewhere along the way, being strong stopped being a character trait and became a contract. An unwritten agreement between me and the world that said: you will never need help, you will never fall apart, and you will never, ever admit that you’re drowning.

And I kept that contract. For years. While my soul quietly suffocated under the weight of it.

“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

Here’s What Your Feelings Tell You Otherwise...

The “strong enough” lie sounds like this:

“If I ask for help, I’m admitting defeat.”

“People are counting on me. I can’t let them down.”

“If they saw the real me, they’d be disappointed.”

“God gave me this load because He knows I can carry it.”

“Who will hold things together if I fall apart?”

I believed every single one of those for longer than I’d like to admit.

The truth? I wasn’t being strong. I was performing strength. There’s a difference.

Real strength knows when to ask for help. Real strength says, “I’m not okay right now.” Real strength puts down the cape and picks up the phone.

But performance strength? That just keeps smiling. Keeps serving. Keeps saying “I’m fine” while the walls close in.

The Deeper Story

Paul didn’t say he overcame his weakness. He didn’t say he pushed through it. He said he boasted in it.

Boasted. In. Weakness.

That’s the opposite of everything we’ve been taught. The world says hide your weakness. The culture says power through. Even some church circles say “just have more faith” as if admitting exhaustion means admitting doubt.

But Paul understood something that took me decades to learn: God’s power doesn’t show up in our self-sufficiency. It shows up in our surrender.

When we finally stop pretending we’re strong enough on our own, we create space for His strength to actually do what ours never could.

“The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and he helps me.” — Psalm 28:7

Notice: “The Lord is my strength.” Not “I am my strength.” Not “My willpower is my strength.” Not “My ability to hold it all together is my strength.”

He is.

And here’s the beautiful paradox: admitting you’re not strong enough is actually the strongest thing you can do. Because it shifts the weight from your shoulders to His. And His shoulders? They never get tired.

Think about the women in Scripture who modeled this. Ruth admitted she had nothing and gleaned from someone else’s field. Hannah poured out her grief so raw that the priest thought she was drunk. The woman at the well told Jesus her whole messy story. None of them performed strength. They showed up honest. And God met them there.

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What This Means for You

Sweet friend, if you’ve been carrying the title of “the strong one,” can I ask you something?

Who carries you?

Who do you call when you’re the one falling apart? Who holds the space for your tears, your fears, your “I can’t do this anymore” moments?

If you can’t name anyone, that’s not a badge of honor. That’s a warning sign.

You were never meant to carry it all alone. Not the family. Not the ministry. Not the emotional weight of everyone around you. God designed us for interdependence, not independence.

“Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.” - Galatians 6:2

Each OTHER’s. That means someone should be carrying yours too.

Remember This Truth

Being strong is not the same as being okay.

Asking for help is not giving up. It’s growing up.

And admitting you’re not “strong enough”? That’s not weakness. That’s the beginning of real freedom.

You don’t have to be the strong one anymore. You just have to be the honest one. And let the God whose power is made perfect in weakness do what He does best.

Put down the crown, sweet friend. Pick up the rest.

An Invitation

I want to ask you something, and I want you to answer honestly:

What are you carrying right now that you were never meant to carry alone?

Maybe it’s a role. Maybe it’s a relationship. Maybe it’s an expectation you placed on yourself so long ago you forgot it was optional.

Name it. Say it out loud or write it down. And then ask yourself: what would it look like to set this down?

Reply or leave a comment and share with me. You might be surprised how many other women are carrying the same thing. And there’s freedom in knowing you’re not the only one.

Joyfully yours,

Tina 💛

📣What “strong enough” lie are you ready to let go of? Reply or comment below. Let’s lay it down together.

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I used to think rest was something I had to earn.

This mindset stemmed from the corporate culture of the 1990s, where meeting Wall Street expectations drove everything. Companies were expanding globally, downsizing locally, and demanding more from fewer people. Loyalty to the organization was expected but rarely returned. I was laid off five times in that decade alone, so trust me when I say: I know how real this was.

With this came the push to: Finish the project, then rest. Clear the inbox, then rest. Get through this busy season, then rest. But the rest never came and work kept coming and coming and coming.

Rest was always waiting on the other side of productivity. A reward for the deserving. A break for those who had completed enough to justify taking one. At the time, I felt like a hamster on a wheel, trying for the right moment to jump off to rest.

But last week, while studying creation account in Genesis, something stopped me cold.

God rested on the seventh day. But Adam and Eve? They were created on the sixth day. Which means the very first full day of human existence was a day of rest.

They hadn’t earned anything. They hadn’t completed a single project or checked off a single to-do list. They had literally just been made.

And God said: Rest.

Not “work first, then rest.” Just... rest.

“By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work. Then God blessed the seventh day and made it holy.”

— Genesis 2:2–3

When Your Mind Tells You Otherwise...

I know what you might be thinking, because I’ve thought it too:

“I haven’t done enough to deserve a break.”

“Resting now means falling behind.”

“Other people manage more than me without stopping.”

“God helps those who help themselves.” (That’s not even in the Bible, by the way.)

“If I rest, everything will fall apart.”

I lived by these lies for years. I wore my exhaustion like a medal. I mistook burnout for dedication and collapse for commitment. I told myself that resting was for people who didn’t care as much as I did.

Again, that was the corporate culture I had accepted, eventually spilling over into other areas of my life.

But here’s what I was really saying: “I don’t trust God to hold things together if I stop.”

Ouch. That one still stings.

The Deeper Truth

Here’s what I never noticed before: God gave Adam and Eve rest BEFORE He gave them work.

Genesis 1:28 contains the command to fill the earth and subdue it. Genesis 2:15 puts Adam in the garden to work it and take care of it. But Genesis 2:2–3? The Sabbath is established first.

Rest wasn’t the reward for completing the mission. Rest was the foundation for beginning it.

What if we’ve had it backwards all along?

What if rest isn’t something we earn after we’ve done enough, but something we receive so we CAN do anything at all?

“Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a sabbath to the Lord your God.”

—Exodus 20:8–10

It’s literally one of the Ten Commandments. Right up there with “don’t murder” and “don’t steal.”

Yet somehow, we treat Sabbath like a suggestion. A nice idea for people with less demanding lives. An optional extra for those who have the luxury.

But God didn’t say “Rest if you can fit it in.”

He didn’t say “Rest when you’re caught up.”

He said “Remember.” As in: you’re going to forget. Life is going to crowd it out. Busyness will feel more urgent than rest. So remember. Keep it holy. Protect it.

Why would God command rest?

Because He knew we’d never choose it on our own. Not because we’re lazy, but because we’re wired to perform. To prove. To push. And left to our own devices, we will run ourselves into the ground and call it faithfulness.

What This Means for You

If you’ve been waiting until you’ve earned the right to rest, I need you to hear this:

You already have it.

Not because you’ve been productive enough. Not because you’ve served enough. Not because you’ve suffered enough.

Because God designed it for you before you ever lifted a finger.

Rest is not the finish line. It’s the starting block.

What would it look like to stop treating rest as a reward and start receiving it as a gift?

What would shift in your week if you protected one day, one afternoon, even one hour as sacred, set-apart time to simply be?

You don’t have to figure it all out today. But you can start by letting go of the lie that you haven’t done enough to deserve a break.

You were made to rest. It’s in your design. It was God’s idea before it was ever yours.

Remember This Truth

Rest is not laziness. It’s obedience.

Sabbath is not optional. It’s an invitation.

And slowing down doesn’t mean you’re falling behind. It means you’re finally trusting the One who never stops working on your behalf.

The God who created the universe in six days and rested on the seventh is the same God who holds your world together while you sleep. He doesn’t need your hustle. He wants your trust.

So rest, sweet friend. Not because you’ve earned it. Because He gave it.

An Invitation

Before you scroll away, I want to ask you something:

What would it look like for you to receive rest as a gift this week?

Maybe it’s protecting Sunday afternoon from the to-do list. Maybe it’s putting your phone down or closing your laptop for an hour to stop ‘doom scrolling’ and just breathing. Maybe it’s saying no to one commitment so you can say yes to stillness.

Whatever it looks like, start small. And start believing that you don’t have to earn what God freely gives. Remember He loves you unconditionally. God loves when you spend time with Him.

Reply or leave a comment and tell me: what’s one way you can receive the gift of rest this week? I’d love to hear from you.

Joyfully yours,

Tina 💖

📣What would change if you stopped trying to earn rest and started receiving it? Hit reply or comment below. Let’s talk about it.

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✨Get Your Free The 7 Faces of Exhaustion™ Self-Assessment✨

Last week, Ihad a break in my schedule so I called a friend. She answered the phone. Once we go past the initial excitement of hearing one another’s voice, I asked her ‘how are y ou doing?”

“Tired, what else is, right?” she replied.

But then I asked her something that stopped her:

“What kind of tired?”

She chuckled nervously. “I don’t know... just... tired?”

After a pregnant pause moment, I responded to her uncertainty. “Honey, there’s more than one type of tired. And the remedy depends on which one you’re dealing with.”

That conversation changed something in her.

I shared that not all exhaustion looks the same or feels the same. And if she was going to find her way from exhaustion to joy, she needed to understand what she was actually dealing with.

And the same may hold true for you.

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“Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.”

— Psalm 139:23

The Psalmist knew something we often forget: we need God’s help to understand what’s really going on inside us. Our hearts are complex. Our exhaustion is layered. And His wisdom can help us untangle it all.

The 7 Faces of Exhaustion (Beyond Tired)

As I’ve walked this journey, and talked with countless women along the way, I’ve come to recognize seven different types of exhaustion. See if any of these sound familiar:

1. Physical Exhaustion

This is the one we recognize first: the body crying out for rest. Sleep deprivation. Chronic illness. Hormonal changes. The sheer physical toll of doing too much for too long.

Signs: Fatigue that sleep doesn’t fix. Body aches. Brain fog. Getting sick more often.

2. Emotional Exhaustion

When you’ve felt too much for too long. The caregiver who’s always giving. The listener who never gets heard. The one who holds it all together so everyone else can fall apart.

Signs: Feeling numb. Crying easily (or not being able to cry at all). Emotional detachment from things you used to care about.

3. Mental Exhaustion

Decision fatigue. Information overload. The weight of holding all the family calendars, appointments, deadlines, and details in your head. (They call it the “mental load” for a reason.)

Signs: Difficulty concentrating. Forgetting things. Feeling overwhelmed by simple decisions.

4. Spiritual Exhaustion

When your soul feels dry. When prayer feels like talking to the ceiling. When you’re going through the motions of faith but not feeling the connection. This is the one we often hide, even from ourselves.

Signs: Feeling distant from God. Doubt creeping in. Bible reading feels like a chore. Wondering if He even hears you.

5. Social Exhaustion

People-pleasing takes a toll. So does loneliness. Sometimes we’re drained by too many relationships demanding our energy. Sometimes we’re drained by not having the deep connections we crave.

Signs: Dreading social events. Feeling lonely in a crowd. Needing to recover after being with people. Isolating yourself for extended periods of time.

6. Compassion Fatigue

For the helpers. The fixers. The ones who carry other people’s burdens alongside their own. The perpetual empath. This is the exhaustion that comes from caring so deeply for so long that you have nothing left to give.

Signs: Feeling resentful toward people you’re helping. Loss of empathy. Wondering if your efforts even matter.

7. Purpose Exhaustion

The deep weariness that comes from questioning whether what you’re doing even matters. Feeling stuck in the same routine without meaning. Wondering if this is really what God created you for.

Signs: Existential questions. Feeling “stuck.” Going through motions without passion. Asking “Is this all there is?”

✨Get Your Free Self-Assessment Today!✨

My Truth

After taking a look at this list and sharing it with her, I realized I wanted to circle just one, myself. That would be manageable. Fixable.

But honestly, most seasons of my own deepest exhaustion have involved at least three or four of these at once. They layer on top of each other. They feed each other. It all depends on the season of life I’m in.

Physical exhaustion makes me emotionally fragile. Emotional depletion disconnects me from God. Spiritual dryness makes everything feel meaningless.

As a perpetual empath, I hide behind the proverbial curtain. Kind of like the Wizard of Oz in that scene where he’s been giving commands from behind the curtain. He gets exposed and turns out to be a coward, but he means well. And around and around it goes.

But here’s the good news: naming it is the first step toward healing it.

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”

— Psalm 147:3

God doesn’t just offer blanket remedies. He sees the specific places where you’re wounded. He knows which type of tired is keeping you up at night. And He meets you there, in the exact place of your need.

Over the coming weeks, we’re going to explore this together. We’ll talk about rest that actually restores. Boundaries that actually protect. And joy that can show up even when you’re still in the middle of the tired.

Remember This Truth

Your exhaustion isn’t a character flaw. It’s information.

It’s your body, mind, heart, or soul telling you something needs to change. Something needs attention. Something needs healing.

And the God who created you, every complex, beautiful, layered part of you, He’s not surprised by any of it. He’s not disappointed. He’s ready to meet you right where you are. You are His masterpiece, and that means you are very special.

God’s Invitation

Take a moment, just a quiet moment, and ask God: “Search me. Show me which kind of tired I’m carrying.”

No judgment. No fixing required. Just honest awareness.

Because you can’t address what you won’t acknowledge. And this journey from exhaustion to joy? It starts with telling the truth about where we really are.

Joyfully yours,

Tina 💖

📣 Which face(s) of exhaustion resonated most with you? Reply or comment below. Sometimes just naming it brings relief. And remember, you’re not alone in this. I’m grateful to walk this journey with you.

God isn’t done with us yet!🙌🏼

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“From my heart to yours, thank you for reading. 💖

I’d love to have you join the Joy God’s Way™ community, so we can keep moving from exhaustion into joy together, God’s way! 🌿

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I recently asked a friend a question that stopped her mid-sentence.

She’d answered the phone with her usual energy, but when I asked how she was doing, she sighed. “Tired. What else is new, right?”

So I asked her something she wasn’t expecting: “What kind of tired?”

She chuckled nervously. “I don’t know... just... tired?”

After a long pause, I said, “Honey, there’s more than one type of tired. And the remedy depends on which one you’re dealing with.”

At that moment, the tone of the conversation changed. She began to share one event in her life that took place at work.

“A coworker was having a medical episode and collapsed onto the floor from his desk. I did my best to revive him by providing CPR, but he succumbed to the medical episode. Being there with someone dying right in front of me, someone I did my best to save, has weighed heavy on my heart and my mind.”

There was an awkward silence. This wasn’t a moment for remedies. It was a moment to listen. To sit with her in the weight of what she was carrying.

As we continued the conversation, I let her know that I understood, to the extent that I could, what she meant by being... just... tired. She carried a lot on her shoulders and was the “strong one” in everything, no matter what she had to deal with professionally or personally. She was the friend we all went to. The one we confided in.

I’m Tina, and I’ve spent over 35 years walking alongside women who were carrying more than they were ever meant to hold alone. Believe me when I say I understand how that feels.

I too have been the one friends, family, and even strangers would lean on for support. The trusted one with the answers. The one who showed up emotionally for everyone else. Always appearing to handle adversity as though it wasn’t a challenge.

But deep inside, it was wearing me down.

I still had my own life to navigate. Losing loved ones. Divorce. Being laid off nine times. Hearing the gun go off when my landlord of twenty years committed suicide. Tough financial decisions. Navigating narcissistic relationships. And the list goes on.

Through women’s ministry, stewardship ministry, corporate environments, thousands of honest conversations, and I can’t leave out therapy, I’ve learned something: most women don’t need another lecture on self-care. They need someone to help them understand why the self-care isn’t working.

This framework came from my own journey and from walking with women just like you. Women of faith who love God, serve others, and quietly wonder why they’re still so tired.

“Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.”

— Psalm 139:23

The Psalmist knew something we often forget: we need God’s help to understand what’s really going on inside us. Our hearts are complex. Our exhaustion is layered. And His wisdom can help us untangle it all.

The 7 Faces of Exhaustion (Beyond Tired)

As I’ve walked this journey, and talked with countless women along the way, I’ve come to recognize seven different types of exhaustion. See if any of these sound familiar:

1. Physical Exhaustion

This is the one we recognize first: the body crying out for rest. Sleep deprivation. Chronic illness. Hormonal changes. The sheer physical toll of doing too much for too long.

Signs: Fatigue that sleep doesn’t fix. Body aches. Brain fog. Getting sick more often.

You tell yourself, “If I could just get one good night’s sleep, I’d be fine.” But that night never seems to come.

2. Emotional Exhaustion

When you’ve felt too much for too long. The caregiver who’s always giving. The listener who never gets heard. The one who holds it all together so everyone else can fall apart.

Signs: Feeling numb. Crying easily (or not being able to cry at all). Emotional detachment from things you used to care about.

You can’t remember the last time someone asked how you were doing and actually waited for the real answer.

3. Mental Exhaustion

Decision fatigue. Information overload. The weight of holding all the family calendars, appointments, deadlines, and details in your head. (They call it the “mental load” for a reason.)

Signs: Difficulty concentrating. Forgetting things. Feeling overwhelmed by simple decisions.

You stood in the grocery store for ten minutes trying to decide between two brands of pasta. And then you left without buying either.

4. Spiritual Exhaustion

When your soul feels dry. When prayer feels like talking to the ceiling. When you’re going through the motions of faith but not feeling the connection. This is the one we often hide, even from ourselves.

Signs: Feeling distant from God. Doubt creeping in. Bible reading feels like a chore. Wondering if He even hears you.

You still believe. You just can’t feel it anymore. And admitting that out loud feels like a betrayal.

5. Social Exhaustion

People-pleasing takes a toll. So does loneliness. Sometimes we’re drained by too many relationships demanding our energy. Sometimes we’re drained by not having the deep connections we crave.

Signs: Dreading social events. Feeling lonely in a crowd. Needing to recover after being with people. Isolating yourself for extended periods of time.

Your phone rings and your first instinct is to let it go to voicemail. Not because you don’t love them. Because you just don’t have anything left to give.

6. Compassion Fatigue

For the helpers. The fixers. The ones who carry other people’s burdens alongside their own. The perpetual empath. This is the exhaustion that comes from caring so deeply for so long that you have nothing left to give.

Signs: Feeling resentful toward people you’re helping. Loss of empathy. Wondering if your efforts even matter.

You used to be the first one to show up. Now you secretly hope someone else will volunteer, and then you feel guilty for thinking it.

7. Purpose Exhaustion

The deep weariness that comes from questioning whether what you’re doing even matters. Feeling stuck in the same routine without meaning. Wondering if this is really what God created you for.

Signs: Existential questions. Feeling “stuck.” Going through motions without passion. Asking “Is this all there is?”

You look at your life and think, “This is fine. Everything is fine.” But “fine” has started to feel like a prison.

Here’s What I Know to Be True

When I first sat with this list, I wanted to circle just one. That would be manageable. Fixable.

But honestly? Most seasons of my own deepest exhaustion have involved at least three or four of these at once. They layer on top of each other. They feed each other.

Physical exhaustion makes me emotionally fragile. Emotional depletion disconnects me from God. Spiritual dryness makes everything feel meaningless. And around and around it goes.

If you’re being honest with yourself right now, you might be carrying more than one of these too.

And here’s the good news: naming it is the first step toward healing it.

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”

— Psalm 147:3

God doesn’t just offer blanket remedies. He sees the specific places where you’re wounded. He knows which type of tired is keeping you up at night. And He meets you there, in the exact place of your need.

Remember This Truth

Your exhaustion isn’t a character flaw. It’s information.

It’s your body, mind, heart, or soul telling you something needs to change. Something needs attention. Something needs healing.

And the God who created you, every complex, beautiful, layered part of you, He’s not surprised by any of it. He’s not disappointed. He’s ready to meet you right where you are. You are His masterpiece, and that means you are very special.

God’s Invitation

Take a moment, just a quiet moment, and ask God: “Search me. Show me which kind of tired I’m carrying.”

No judgment. No fixing required. Just honest awareness.

Because you can’t address what you won’t acknowledge. And this journey from exhaustion to joy? It starts with telling the truth about where we really are.

If This Resonated, You Belong Here

Joy God’s Way™ is a space I created for women just like you. Women of faith who love God and serve others, but who have been quietly running on empty for longer than they’d like to admit.

Every Thursday, I share a devotional right here on Substack. Rooted in Scripture, written from real life, and designed to meet you wherever you are that week. These aren’t lectures. They’re letters from a friend who has walked through the fire and found God waiting on the other side to transform her.

Throughout the week, I share daily Notes: short encouragements, reflections, and truths to carry with you. Think of them as little exhales tucked into your day.

This space is built on four foundations: obedience, surrender, gratitude, and joy. Not joy as the world defines it. Joy as God designed it. Rooted in Scripture, renewed in Spirit. restored in joy!🌿

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Subscribing is free, and it means my Thursday devotionals and daily Notes will land right in your inbox. No algorithms. No performing. Just truth, grace, and a community of women who are learning to trade their masks for something real.

And if you want to go deeper, paid subscribers receive extended devotional content, behind-the-scenes reflections, and first access to upcoming e-books and resources. It’s a small investment in a space that was built to pour into you.

Where to Start

If you’re new here, welcome. Here are three posts that will give you a feel for what Joy God’s Way is all about:

• What Is Joy? — Understanding the difference between biblical joy and worldly happiness, and why it matters for your daily life.

• When ‘Yes’ Was the Wrong Answer — For every woman who has said yes to everyone else and forgotten to ask God what He was saying.

• Why You Have Permission to Be Tired — Because sometimes the bravest thing you can do is stop pretending you’re fine.

With love and so much joy,

Founder, Joy God’s Way™

📣 Which face(s) of exhaustion resonated most with you? Reply or comment below. Sometimes just naming it brings relief. And remember, you’re not alone in this. I’m grateful to walk this journey with you.

God isn’t done with us yet.🙌🏼

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“From my heart to yours, thank you for reading. 💖

Also, I’d like to thank those who are free or paid subscribers to my Joy God’s Way™ newsletter.

Joy God’s Way™ is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

I’d love to have you join the Joy God’s Way™ community, so we can keep moving from exhaustion to joy together, God’s way! 🌿

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I’m Still Tired (And That’s Okay)

It’s been a few weeks since Easter.

And you know what?

I’m still tired. Yes, I know it seems that I keep bringing this up, but there’s a good reason for it…I can’t be the only one who is feeling like this?

So let me explain.

It’s not just the “I could use a nap” tired. What I mean is:

The kind of tired that makes you forget why you walked into the kitchen. However, at 64 years old, I would usually attribute it to age, but that’s another story for another day. Now where were we… oh yeah:

The kind of tired that has you staring at the laundry basket like it personally wronged you.

The kind of tired where your favorite friend or family member calls and you let it go to voicemail.

The kind of tired that makes even rest feel exhausting.

Not so much physically, but mentally. And the thing about mental fatigue is that it tricks your body into feeling heavy too.

And then it hit me: when the Easter season finally wrapped and we celebrated “It is Finished,” I realized something — now I get to focus on all the events of spring and summer.

You know the ones. Asking the boss for time off for summer vacation. How to keep the kids busy during the summer. Graduations. Weddings. Summer holidays. More birthdays. Mid-year doctor’s appointments.

And the list goes on with the ‘life’ stuff, daily noise of the news media, politics, wars, financial crisis and all the other ‘gloom and doom’ the world tries to throw at us. It’s enough to make you want to scream!

Well, last week I gave myself permission to crash. I put on my favorite Target Bullseye fuzzy pants. Bought Italian subs, so no cooking. Closed my eyes by 4pm for a nap, to give me enough ‘get up and go’ until bedtime.

But here’s what I didn’t expect: waking up the next day... I was still tired.

And the day after that.

And this morning.

What got to me the most? I started to feel guilty about it. Started feeling like a hamster on a wheel — the never-ending cycle.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures.” - Psalm 23:1-2

Did you catch that? He makes me lie down.

Not suggests. Not recommends. Not hints.

“He makes me.”

Because sometimes, the Shepherd knows we won’t rest unless we’re led to it. Sometimes our bodies give out before our minds give in. Sometimes we need more than a single Sunday afternoon of fuzzy pants to recover from years of running on fumes.

And that’s not weakness. That’s wisdom starting to wake up.

When Your Mind Tells You Otherwise...

I know what you might be thinking. Because I’ve thought it too:

“I should be over this by now.”

“Other people are fine. What’s wrong with me?”

“If I just push through, I’ll catch up eventually.”

“Rest is for people who don’t have as much to do.”

“I don’t even have children who depend on me. How can I be this tired?”

I spent years believing these lies. Years smiling through Sunday services while my soul was screaming for stillness. Years filling my calendar to the margins and calling it "ministry" when it was really just avoidance, which eventually turned into isolation. I thought I was in control.

Because here’s the truth I had to learn the hard way: being busy was easier than being still. In the stillness, I had to face things. In the stillness, I had to feel things. In the stillness, I couldn’t hide behind productivity. In the stillness, I thought I would be exposed. And there it was again: the guilt of being still.

But God doesn’t lead us beside still waters just for scenery. He leads us there because that’s where restoration begins.

The Deeper Truth

Here’s what I’m learning: rest isn’t a one-time event. It’s a rhythm.

You wouldn’t expect one meal to satisfy you for a week. You wouldn’t expect one night’s sleep to carry you through the month. So why do we expect one afternoon of rest to undo years of depletion?

“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... and you will find rest for your souls.”

— Matthew 11:28–29

Notice Jesus says “come” and then “take” and then “learn.”

It’s a process. A practice. A way of living.

If you’re still tired, even after trying to rest, you’re not failing. You’re just not finished yet. And neither am I.

Remember This Truth

Through it all, the verse above reminded me that I'm to give my burdens to the Lord. Starting right now. And to move past the shame and guilt by telling myself:

It’s okay to still be tired.

It’s okay to need more rest than I thought.

It’s okay to take longer to recover than expected.

It’s okay to be human.

As I said at the beginning, I can’t be the only one. So, I share this with you because you are not a machine built to perform. You are a beloved daughter designed to flourish. And flourishing takes time.

The Shepherd is patient. His green pastures aren’t going anywhere. And neither is His love for you, whether you feel rested or still running on empty.

An Invitation

If this resonates with you, if you’re reading this and thinking “that’s me,” would you take a moment today to stop striving?

No pressure. No productivity required.

Just breathe. Just be. Just let the Good Shepherd lead you beside still waters, even if it’s only for five minutes.

You’re worth it. And so is your rest.

Joyfully yours,

Tina 💖

How long have you been running on empty? Hit reply or leave a comment. I’d love to hear your story. You’re not alone in this.

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Fuzzy Pants and Couch Time

It happened Monday morning. I had served at five of our church’s nine Easter services that weekend.

I attended the Good Friday service for my own edification. Served for three services on Saturday. And two more on Sunday.

And I loved every single minute of it.

I greeted. I smiled. I pointed people toward open seats and offered tissues to the ones who cried when the choir sang. I watched families reunite, children and adults dressed in their ‘Sunday’ best, and people meet Jesus for the very first time.

It was holy work. Sacred exhaustion. Everything I wanted to give.

And then Easter Sunday came to an end.

By 2pm, I turned to my husband and asked him to cancel our brunch reservation at one of my favorite restaurants. Not postpone. Cancel. I had nothing left. I was at full capacity.

We decided to pick up Italian deli sandwiches from our favorite local spot, came home, and I put on my fuzzy pants. You know the ones. The pants that say, “I am officially done being a person today.”

By 4pm, we were both fighting to keep our eyes open.

“We must be getting old,” my husband laughed.

“It’s not old,” I said with a half smile. “It’s empty.”

Here’s the thing no one talks about after Easter: the crash.

We spend weeks preparing. We fast. We pray. We serve. We show up with everything we’ve got and we should. Resurrection Sunday deserves our full hearts and our open hands.

But when Monday comes… when the sanctuary is empty and the decorations are packed away... when real life starts knocking again with bills, and deadlines, and the 47 things you put on hold “until after Easter”...

Sometimes we crash.

And sometimes we feel guilty about it.

***

When Your Feelings Tell You Otherwise...

Can I tell you something that occurred to me?

As I sat on that couch Sunday afternoon, fuzzy pants on, sandwich half-eaten, eyes barely open, a familiar voice started whispering:

“You should be celebrating, not collapsing.”

“Other people served just as much and they’re fine.”

“What kind of Christian can’t even make it through the day?”

“You’re supposed to be filled with resurrection power, not drained by it.”

Maybe you’ve heard those whispers too.

Maybe you’ve spent years believing that exhaustion after serving is somehow a faith failure. That if you were really walking in the Spirit, you’d have boundless energy. That needing rest means you’re doing something wrong.

Sweet friend, that’s a lie. And I’m ready to stop believing it.

***

The Deeper Truth

Here’s what I know to be true:

Jesus withdrew. After feeding the 5,000, after healing the sick, after pouring Himself out, He got in a boat. He went to a quiet place. He stepped away from the crowds who needed Him.

Elijah collapsed. After his greatest victory on Mount Carmel, fire from heaven, prophets defeated, God glorified, he ran into the wilderness and asked God to let him die. And what did God do? Scold him? Tell him to push through? No. He sent an angel with bread and water. Twice. And then let him sleep.

David cried out. “I am worn out from my groaning. All night long I flood my bed with weeping” (Psalm 6:6). The man after God’s own heart? Exhausted. Depleted. Honest about it.

Even the disciples. After the most miraculous weekend in human history, they went back to fishing because they didn’t know what else to do.

Exhaustion after pouring out is not a faith failure. It’s a human experience. And last time I checked, we’re still very much human.

***

What This Means For You

If you’re reading this in your own version of fuzzy pants...

If your body is tired and your mind is foggy and your soul is quietly whispering, “Can I rest now?”...

The answer is yes.

Yes, you can rest.

Yes, you can cancel the plans.

Yes, you can eat a simple sandwich and call it a feast.

Yes, you can sit on the couch at 4pm and let your eyes close without guilt.

The same Jesus who rose from the grave is the One who said, “Come to Me... and I will give you rest.”

He didn’t say, “Come to Me once you’ve recovered on your own.”

He didn’t say, “Come to Me once you’ve caught up on everything you missed.”

He said, “Come. Now. As you are. Weary and burdened and still in your fuzzy pants.”

***

Remember This Truth

Today, I’m giving you permission, not that you need mine, but sometimes it helps to hear it from someone who’s been there:

• Rest is not laziness.

• Recovery is not weakness.

• And slowing down after giving everything? That’s not failure. That’s wisdom.

The resurrection didn’t end on Sunday. The power of what Jesus did is still working, in you, through you, and yes, even when you’re too tired to feel it.

So rest, sweet friend. He’s got you.

***

A Prayer for My Sister🙏🏼

An Invitation

Before you scroll away, I want to ask you something:

What does your version of “fuzzy pants” look like?

Maybe it’s your favorite hoodie. Maybe it’s the corner of the couch where you can finally exhale. Maybe it’s that one meal you eat when you just can’t anymore.

Reply or leave a comment and tell me. I’d love to hear from you. Because there’s something powerful about knowing we’re not alone in this.

Leave a comment

And if you’re still in your own post-Easter crash? This is your permission slip to stay there a little longer. He’s not rushing you. Neither am I.

***

Joyfully yours,

Tina 💖

As I began writing this article, I can still see the Italian stained glass windows, representing the 14 Stations of The Cross, which depicted Jesus on the day of his crucifixion (His suffering and death).

I was a little girl sitting with my grandfather (who was an Episcopal priest), as visitors at an Episcopal Cathedral. My legs dangling off the pew, watching the colors pour through the glass from the sun, like God was painting the walls just for me. And then the hymn started. “Onward, Christian Soldiers.” The organ swelled. The congregation rose. And something in that moment marked me in a way I wouldn’t understand for decades.

“Onward, Christian soldiers, marching as to war, with the cross of Jesus going on before.” -Sabine Baring-Gould, 1865.

I didn’t know what the cross truly meant yet. I just knew it mattered. I could feel it in the music, in the stained glass, in the way my grandfather stood next to me singing in that Cathedral, like he was singing directly to God, in his rich baritone voice. Something about Good Friday got into my bones before I had words for it.

It wasn’t until decades later, in my early 30’s, that I accepted Christ as my Lord and Savior in 1994. And that’s when what I had felt as a child became what I knew as a woman. Good Friday wasn’t just a story. It was the story. The one that changed everything.

And it’s the story that’s about to change everything for you too.

***

When the Greatest Gift You Ever Received Wasn’t Under a Tree

We celebrate Christmas, and there’s beauty in that. The manger. The star. The baby who came to save the world. People exchange gifts, and it’s a wonderful thing.

But Good Friday? That’s where the greatest gift was given. Not wrapped in paper. Wrapped in thorns. Not placed under a tree. Placed on one.

God gave us the gift of His Son. Jesus gave us the gift of His life. He took every sin, every shame, every broken thing we’ve ever carried and bore the weight of it on that cross. Not because we earned it. Not because we deserved it. Because He loved us that much.

And here is the part that still makes me catch my breath: He didn’t stay on the cross. He didn’t stay in the tomb. On the third day, He rose again. Death didn’t get the last word. It never does. Not with our God.

That’s Easter. Not bunnies and brunch. Easter is the moment God looked at death, defeat, and every sealed tomb in human history and said: “Not the last word. Not on My watch.”

And He’s saying it over your life too.

***

The Morning Everything Changed

Two thousand years ago, Mary Magdalene and Mary, the mother of James, walked to a tomb at dawn. They weren’t expecting a miracle. They were expecting a body. They came with spices and grief and the heavy, hollow ache of watching someone they loved die.

But when they arrived, the stone was rolled away. The tomb was empty. And an angel asked them the most radical question in human history:

“Why do you look for the living among the dead?”

Read that again. Let it land.

Those women went looking for death and found life instead. They went expecting an ending and walked into a beginning. Everything they thought was over was actually just starting.

I’ve been those women. Maybe you have too. Walking toward something you were certain was finished, only to find that God had been working in the silence the whole time.

***

What “Newness of Life” Actually Means

In Romans 6:4 (NIV), Paul writes something that has become the heartbeat of this entire series:

“We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life.”

A new life. Not a perfect life. Not a painless life. A new one.

The Greek word for “new” here is kainos. It doesn’t mean brand new, as in ‘never existed before.’ It means renewed. Made fresh. Given new quality and character. It’s the same word used in 2 Corinthians 5:17 (NIV):

“If anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old is gone, the new is here!.”

That means you’re not starting from scratch. You’re starting from everything you’ve survived. Every valley, every tear, every night you thought you wouldn’t make it. God isn’t erasing your story. He’s redeeming it. He’s taking the woman who walked through the fire and saying, “Now watch what I do with her.”

That’s not just theology. That’s resurrection power.

***

Resurrection Is in Your Biology

Here’s something remarkable that science confirms: you are literally designed for renewal.

Researchers who study post-traumatic growth have found that people who walk through significant hardship don’t just bounce back to where they were before. They grow beyond it. They actually develop greater emotional depth, stronger relationships, a clearer sense of purpose, and a more authentic faith than they had before the hard season.

You read that right. You don’t just bounce back. You grow beyond where you were before…over time.

That’s not just resilience. That’s resurrection built into your biology. God designed you so that the hardest seasons of your life would become the soil for your greatest growth.

Remember from Week 1 (She’s Still Breathing, But Barely), how chronic stress shrinks parts of the brain? Here’s the rest of that story: those areas can grow back. Your brain rebuilds itself through rest, gratitude, connection, and the exact kinds of tiny steps you’ve been taking over these four weeks. You’re not the same woman you were when this series started. And science says your brain knows it too.

The valley of dry bones wasn’t the end of the story. It was the setup for the miracle.

***

When I Was Truly Alive Again

I want to tell you about the moment I knew something had fundamentally changed in me. Not the moment everything got fixed. The moment I realized I was different.

It was when I decided that happiness was never going to be enough.

For years, I had been chasing happy. Happy circumstances. Happy outcomes. Happy endings. But happiness is dependent on what happens. And what was happening in my life, at a time when I had decided to ‘retire’ from the general work force, so that I could enjoy my life and spend more time being with the ones I loved and have more time to finally start my business, there was one loss after another.

My dad passed away in 2023. Within a month of his passing, I lost two of my closest friends and confidants. Then, not long after that in 2024, I found out that my ex-husband and a man I had dated both passed away a day apart. You start thinking about mortality. You stop taking things for granted. The weight of all that loss in such a short window of time was staggering.

And then there was Mom.

After Daddy passed, I started building all these beautiful plans for when she would move from the West Coast to live with us here in Florida, while her new home was being built in North Carolina. I had ideas for what we would do together, places we would go, the time we would finally have. If I’m honest, it was my escape hatch. Pouring into those plans was a way to avoid dealing with everything I was carrying personally. I was wrapping my life around her because having someone I loved that much nearby felt like safety.

But those were my plans. Not necessarily hers. And they weren’t God’s either.

Mom came to Florida. And three weeks after she arrived, she was gone.

I had lost a mother. But I had also lost my truly best friend. The one person I had been building my next chapter around.

Just one month after mommy’s passing, my father-in-law succumbed to Alzheimer’s after five years in memory care. My husband now had his own emotions and pain to navigate. There was a realization that it was now just the two of us. Both emotionally spent trying to process everything, as everything else in life continued to happen.

And suddenly, I had no one left to lean on. I was alone emotionally and had no support. Truly alone. The kind of alone where you look around and realize that every person you’d been depending on is gone, and the silence is so loud it hurts. And the one person I wanted to lean on is, is not emotionally available.

But God!

That’s when something shifted.

In that loneliness, I remembered Christ’s sacrificial love for me. It wasn’t a dramatic moment. It was more like a return. A recommitment. A quiet turning of my heart back to the One who had been there through all of it. I started focusing on Him. Not on my plans, not on my escape hatches, not on what I wanted to happen. On Him.

And what came out of that was not happiness. It was joy. True, deep, rooted joy that came from seeing everything He had brought me through. Only He could understand the depth of my hurt and sorrow. Only He knows me well enough to guide me. Only He who died for me could provide the grace and mercy it took to carry me through those losses.

Sometimes it felt like all of those losses had to happen to bring me closer to Him. By putting Him first. By letting go of the people and plans I had gripped so tightly. That’s when the peace that surpasses all understanding began to play an important role in my day to day.

We can lean on those who are close to us, whether we are bonded through family or friends or circumstances. But nobody loves me like King Jesus. Nobody. And that’s what Good Friday taught me. Not as a little girl in a Cathedral. But as a woman who had buried enough people to know that the only One who never leaves is the One who chose to die so I could live.

And here’s what ties my story to yours and to Easter itself: just as Jesus died and rose again on the third day, parts of our lives die too. Dreams die. Relationships die. Seasons end. But through the blood of Jesus Christ, we are resurrected. We come back to life. Not the old life. A new one. Kainos. Renewed. Made fresh.

***

What Alive Looks Like Now

Let me paint a picture of where you are, because I don’t think you see it clearly yet.

Four weeks ago, you were running on empty. The alarm went off and you were already tired. You said “I’m fine” so many times you almost believed it. Your faith felt flat, your joy felt borrowed, and you couldn’t remember the last time you felt truly alive.

And now?

Now you’re noticing the light again. You’re putting the phone down. You’re choosing differently. Not perfectly, but intentionally. You’re learning that contentment isn’t about having it all together. It’s about trusting the One who holds it all.

You’re praying honest prayers. You’re setting boundaries without guilt. You’re giving yourself permission to breathe, to rest, to be human.

That’s not small. That’s resurrection.

Because ‘alive’ doesn’t mean ‘perfect.’ Alive means present. Alive means you feel things again, the good and the difficult. Alive means you are no longer going through the motions. You’re going through a transformation.

And the most beautiful part? You’re not doing it alone. You never were.

***

A Letter to the Woman You Were Four Weeks Ago

If I could go back and talk to you four weeks ago, the woman who set the alarm and lay there too tired to move, here’s what I’d say:

It’s going to get better. Not all at once. Not in the way you expect. But slowly, gently, one tiny breath at a time, God is going to put you back together. And when He does, you’ll realize He was there the whole time. In the exhaustion. In the silence. In the tears you cried when nobody was watching.

I’d tell you that the valley isn’t your address. It’s your passage. You’re walking through it, not living in it.

I’d tell you that the flutter you’re about to feel isn’t your imagination. It’s the Holy Spirit reminding you that dead things don’t stay dead. Not in God’s hands.

I’d tell you that you’re going to set a boundary and survive it. You’re going to say no and not fall apart. You’re going to choose yourself and discover that it’s not selfish. It’s sacred.

And I’d tell you this: Easter is coming. Not just on the calendar. In your life. The stone is about to roll away. And when you see what God has been doing in the silence, behind the sealed door, in the places you gave up on, you’re going to understand why He let you walk through the valley.

Not to destroy you. To resurrect you.

***

Your New Season Needs New Rhythms

I want to talk about something practical, because resurrection without rhythm is just a good feeling that fades by Tuesday.

You’ve spent these four weeks making tiny shifts. A Noticing List. The One In, One Out rule. Honest prayers. Three slow breaths. Choosing rest over guilt.

These aren’t just exercises. They’re the infrastructure of your new life. And the research backs this up: studies on habit formation consistently show that lasting change comes not from motivation (which is unreliable) but from routine (which is structural). Your brain doesn’t need another burst of inspiration. It needs a rhythm it can rely on.

So before you close this post, decide: what rhythms are you taking with you? Not ten new habits. Just two or three non-negotiables that anchor you to God and to yourself.

Maybe it’s five minutes of silence before the house wakes up. Maybe it’s a weekly walk with no phone. Maybe it’s opening your Bible before you open Instagram. Whatever it is, guard it. Because that rhythm is the root system that will keep you standing when the next storm comes.

And a storm will come. But this time, you’ll have roots, deeply planted.

***

This Easter, It’s Personal

This Easter, I’m not just celebrating a resurrection that happened 2,000 years ago. I’m living one.

I’ve been in the valley of dry bones, and I’ve felt God breathe life back into places I thought were dead forever. I’ve felt the stirring when I didn’t think I could feel anything at all. I’ve chosen differently when every old habit was screaming at me to go back. And I’m standing here, alive, not because I figured it out, but because the same power that raised Christ from the dead is alive in me.

It’s alive in you too.

That’s what Paul is saying in Romans 6:4. The same resurrection power. The same God. The same promise. If Christ was raised, then we too can live a new life. Not a borrowed one. Not a pretend one. A real, breathing, rooted-in-joy, new life.

This Easter, I pray you feel it. Not the holiday. The power. The same power that rolled the stone away, that conquered death, that turned mourning into dancing and dry bones into an army.

That power is yours. Because the God who did it for Jesus is the same God who is doing it for you. Right now. In this moment. In this season.

He is risen! And so are you.

Your Turn

It’s been a pleasure to share my heart with you during my favorite time of the year. I’d love to hear what resonated with you.

Where were you when this series started four weeks ago, and where are you now? What shifted? What did God do that you didn’t see coming?

Drop it in the comments. Even if it’s just two words: “I’m alive.”

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Please share this article with a family member or friend who’s still in the valley. Send her back to Week 1 and let her start the journey. She might be the woman who’s been saying “I’m fine” and meaning the opposite.

Your story could be the thing that helps her find hers.

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She’s alive again…And God isn’t finished!

When the Shift Starts with One Small “No” and One Quiet “Yes”

I almost said yes again.

The text came in at 9:47 PM. Another ask. Another favor. Another thing that would cost me sleep, my peace, and a piece of myself I was just starting to get back.

My thumb hovered over the keyboard. The old me would have already typed “Of course! Happy to help!” with a smiley face emoji I didn’t mean.

But something was different this time. I felt it in my chest. That same flutter from a few weeks ago. The one that whispered: you don’t have to do this.

So I put the phone down. Facedown. On the nightstand.

And I didn’t pick it up. I have a rule: after 10 PM, I don’t answer the phone. And if I’m exhausted, I don’t answer it any time of day. Because in a true emergency, there is nothing I could do that a trained first responder couldn’t handle better. That rule didn’t come from selfishness. It came from finally learning what was mine to carry and what wasn’t.

It was the smallest thing. But it was everything. Because for the first time in longer than I could remember, I chose myself. Not out of selfishness. Out of survival. Out of the quiet knowing that I couldn’t keep pouring from a cup that had been empty for months.

That moment? That’s not weakness. That’s the beginning of resurrection.

***

The Verse They Got Wrong

Let’s talk about Philippians 4:13 for a second. Because if you grew up anywhere near a church, you’ve seen it on coffee mugs, T-shirts, and probably a few tattoos.

We’ve turned this verse into a battle cry for doing more. Hustling harder. Pushing through. It’s become the Christian version of “no pain, no gain.” The grind! Often times leading to anxiety and worthlessness if you don’t achieve the results that may not have been intended for you.

But that’s not what Paul was saying. Not even close.

When you read the full passage, Philippians 4:10-13, Paul isn’t talking about conquering the world. He’s talking about contentment.

He’s writing from a prison cell, telling the church at Philippi that he’s learned a secret: how to be okay whether he has plenty or nothing. Whether life is easy or brutal.

The “all things” he can do through Christ? That’s not running a marathon or landing a promotion. It’s being at peace when the world around him is falling apart. It’s finding sufficiency in God when his circumstances offer him none.

That changes everything for you.

Because if contentment isn’t about doing more, if it’s about a posture of the heart, then you don’t have to earn your way to peace. You don’t have to fix every broken thing in your life before you’re allowed to exhale. You can choose differently right now, right in the middle of the mess, and that choice itself is the strength Paul is talking about.

***

What Choosing Differently Actually Looks Like

I want to be careful here, because “choosing differently” can sound like another item on an already impossible to-do list. So let me be clear: this is not about a total life overhaul. This is about tiny pivots that signal to your brain, your body, and your spirit that something has changed.

Choosing differently looks like saying “I can’t take that on right now” without apologizing for it.

It looks like leaving the dishes in the sink and going to bed at a decent hour because your rest matters more than a clean kitchen.

It looks like opening your Bible for five minutes instead of scrolling for forty-five, not because you’re being “good,” but because you’re hungry for something real.

It looks like telling a friend the truth when she asks how you’re doing. Not the Instagram version. The real one.

It looks like going for a walk at lunch instead of eating at your desk again. It looks like pulling out that old journal. It looks like letting yourself cry in the car and not feeling ashamed of it.

None of these are dramatic. All of them are defiant. Because every tiny choice that says “I matter too” is an act of rebellion against the lie that you exist only to serve everyone else’s needs. You were never meant to serve out of obligation. That’s not ministry. That’s the very thing that got you here.

***

The Science of Small Choices

Here’s something researchers have found that I think will encourage you: the size of the change doesn’t determine the size of the impact.

Stanford behavior scientist BJ Fogg spent years studying how habits form, and his conclusion was surprising. Lasting change doesn’t come from motivation or willpower. It comes from making the behavior so small that you can’t fail. He calls them “tiny habits.” Two pushups instead of a full workout. One sentence in a journal instead of three pages. Putting your shoes by the door instead of committing to a 5K.

The reason this works is neurological. Every time you complete a small positive action, your brain releases a tiny hit of dopamine, the same chemical associated with reward and motivation. Over time, these micro-wins create new neural pathways. Your brain starts defaulting to the healthier pattern, not because you forced it, but because you trained it gently.

God made your brain this way on purpose. He designed you so that small, faithful steps would compound into transformation. You don’t have to overhaul your life by next Tuesday. You just have to make one different choice today. And then another one tomorrow.

That’s not just science. That’s grace with a blueprint.

***

Boundaries Are Not Selfish (Say It Again)

I know this one is hard. Especially if you were raised to believe that being a good Christian woman means being available to everyone, all the time, no matter what.

But can I show you something? Even Jesus set boundaries.

In Mark 1:35-38, Jesus had just finished a night of healing the sick. The whole town was at the door. The next morning, the disciples came looking for Him, basically saying, “Everyone is looking for You!” And do you know what Jesus said? He said, “Let us go somewhere else.”

He didn’t stay. He didn’t meet every need. He withdrew to pray. He moved on to the next place. Not because He didn’t care, but because He knew His purpose and He refused to let urgency override it.

If Jesus, the Son of God, the Healer, the One with unlimited power, said “not right now,” then you can too.

Setting a boundary isn’t saying “I don’t care.” It’s saying “I can’t pour into you from a place of emptiness and give you anything real.” It’s saying “I trust God enough to know that if I step back, He’ll cover what I can’t.”

That’s not selfish. That’s stewardship of the life He gave you.

***

Your Money, Your Peace (Yes, We’re Going There)

I want to touch on something we don’t talk about enough in faith spaces: financial stress.

Because here’s what I’ve noticed. A lot of the overwhelm that women carry isn’t just emotional or spiritual. It’s financial. It’s lying awake wondering how the bills are getting paid. It’s saying yes to overtime you don’t have the energy for because you need the money. It’s the guilt of buying something for yourself when the budget is tight.

Contentment, the kind Paul talks about, includes your finances. Not because money doesn’t matter, but because God’s sufficiency covers that too.

Choosing differently with your money might look like sitting down for 15 minutes this week and actually looking at where it’s going. Not to shame yourself. Just to see clearly. It might look like canceling one subscription you forgot about. It might look like having an honest conversation with your spouse about what’s stressing you out financially.

Proverbs 27:23 says, “Be sure you know the condition of your flocks, give careful attention to your herds.” That’s not about sheep. That’s about stewardship. And stewardship starts with awareness.

Peace with your money is part of the resurrection too. You deserve to breathe easy there.

The First Time I Chose Differently

In 2012, I was working for a major university, helping adults earn their degrees. Bachelor’s, master’s, even doctorates. It was one of the best jobs I’d ever had. The pay was good. The culture was genuinely student-centric in a way that made me proud to show up every day. And for the first time in a long time, I was starting to see a path out of debt.

If you remember 2012, the world was still catching its breath from the 2008 real estate collapse. The economy was technically “recovering,” but it didn’t feel like recovery for most of us. Industries were still contracting. Companies were still cutting. And the people who could least afford another hit were the ones absorbing most of the blows. If that sounds familiar right now, with inflation and uncertainty pressing in from every side, it’s because the details change but the weight doesn’t. Different decade, same heaviness.

Then one afternoon, I was called into the office.

My supervisor, a man I loved dearly, was sitting there with tears in his eyes. He didn’t want to deliver the news, but the industry was shifting, and I was being let go. Our team was like a little family. We used to call ourselves the Bad News Bears. We’d bonded over beach trips and shared meals at a tiny restaurant where we sat shoulder to shoulder, turning our tears and differences into laughter and genuine respect for one another. Losing that job meant losing them too.

My supervisor walked me to my car that day, carrying that box for me. You know the one. The box that tells the world, “Today was my last day.” We embraced. And that was the last time I saw him. A year later, he passed away from cancer. That broke my heart in ways I still feel today.

But here’s where the financial reality hit.

That job, the one that was supposed to be my way out, was gone. And after eight layoffs over the course of my career, the debt had compounded. Credit cards. Taxes. A car payment. The envelopes started coming in white, then pink, then yellow. You know what those colors mean. I was running from every one of them.

I knew I needed help. So I did something that terrified me: I pursued a legal fresh start.

I found an attorney with an MBA, which mattered to me because I needed someone who could think beyond just the numbers. He asked questions that went deep, but he made me feel safe. He worked out a plan: five years of structured payments. I got to keep my car. The taxes were resolved. The credit cards were managed.

And then came the day I stood before the judge. He asked me one question: why? I gave him one sentence: “Due to eight layoffs.” He stamped the paperwork so fast it took my breath away. Just like that. A lifetime of financial weight, acknowledged and released in a single moment. I walked out with a five-year repayment plan and a commitment I’d never had before: this time, things would be different.

That decision, the one I was terrified to make, became my turning point. It taught me something I had never truly practiced before: financial consistency. Not just paying bills, but actually knowing the condition of my finances and refusing to run from them.

Today, my credit is in a place I never could have imagined. I have opportunities I couldn’t have dreamed of back then. And more than the numbers, I have peace. The kind Paul talks about in Philippians 4. The kind that comes from trusting that God is your source, even when it comes to your bank account.

That legal fresh start was my first real “no” to the chaos and my first real “yes” to stewardship. It was terrifying. It was humbling. And it was one of the most freeing choices I’ve ever made.

If you’re carrying financial shame right now, if the envelopes are piling up and you can’t breathe, hear me: there is no shame in asking for help. There is no shame in starting over. The economy may be shaking, but your God is not. He met me in the aftermath of a real estate crisis, and He’ll meet you in whatever storm is pressing against your door today. That’s not just grace. That’s resurrection.

***

The Strength to Be Still

Here’s the beautiful paradox of this week’s passage: the strength Paul found wasn’t the strength to do more. It was the strength to need less. The strength to stop striving. The strength to sit in a prison cell and say, “I have learned to be content.”

Learned. That word matters. It means contentment didn’t come naturally to Paul either. He had to practice it. He had to choose it. Over and over, in every circumstance, he had to remind himself that Christ was enough.

You’re learning too. And the fact that you’re still here, still reading, still seeking, still fighting for your own soul, tells me you’re further along than you think.

You used to say yes to everything. Now you’re growing. You couldn’t put the phone down. Now you’re choosing differently. You thought contentment was for other people. Now you’re starting to taste it.

And Easter is just around the corner. The ultimate story of what happens when death doesn’t get the last word. When the stone rolls away and everything that looked finished starts over.

Your stone is rolling. Can you hear it?

***

Your Turn

What’s one thing you’re choosing differently this week?

It doesn’t have to be big. Maybe it’s a boundary. Maybe it’s rest. Maybe it’s an honest conversation you’ve been avoiding.

Drop it in the comments, even if it’s just: “I’m choosing me today.”💛

And if you know a woman who needs permission to put her phone facedown and choose herself tonight, send this her way. She’s one small “no” away from a breakthrough.

Share Joy God’s Way™

You don’t have to do it all. You just have to do the next right thing.

—Blessing and joy,

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✨P.S. This is Part 3 of 4: The Resurrection Power series: Your New Season. Take a moment and check out the previous articles “She’s Still Breathing, But Barely” and “Something is Stirring.”

📢The 30 Day E-Devotional is coming and pre-orders begin soon. I’m excited to be able to share this with you with a ‘sneak peek’ in the days to come.