There’s a kind of tiredness that sleep can’t fix.
The kind that sits behind your eyes even when you’re smiling.
The kind that makes you put your phone on DND, not because you’re busy,
but because you’re overwhelmed.Everyone calls you the strong friend,
the dependable brother,
the praying woman,
the fixer.
They all turn to you for your strength.
Don’t get me wrong. Strength is a beautiful gift, but sometimes it becomes a mask that we forget we are wearing.
I personally know that tiredness.
I’ve walked through seasons where “strong woman” became my name badge, even when I didn’t want it.
People would say, “Ah, Nkiruka, you’re such a strong woman,”
and often without thinking, I would rebuff them, almost as though the words didn’t belong to me.
Because while I can be strong, it seemed as though people thought I could always have it together.
“Oh Kiki can do it.
Nkiruka is your girl, she can manage anything.”
I didn’t want to be strong.
I didn’t want to be the one who always had it together.
I didn’t want people to assume I could manage everything.
But one day, God interrupted me gently:
“Are you trying to do this by yourself?”
And the truth was, sometimes I was.
I thought I was carrying life with my own hands, my own effort, my own grit, my own “I’ll figure it out.”
But God wasn’t asking me to be strong by myself.
He was inviting me to be strong with Him.
That’s why Matthew 11:28 isn’t a command to “hold on.”
It isn’t a demand to prove anything.
It is simply an invitation:
“Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
He doesn’t say:
“Come and show me your 5-step plan.”
“Come and explain why you’re tired.”
“Come and demonstrate your worthiness.”
He just says, Come.
As simple as that word is, it requires enormous surrender.
To come, truly come, is to exhale.
It is to say:
“Lord, I’m not here as “the strong woman”.
I’m here as Your daughter.
Here are the pieces.
Here is the weight.
Here is the tiredness I’ve been pretending does not exist.”
And do you know what happens when you come?
You rest.
Not the kind of rest that is just sleep,
But rest that rearranges your soul, stabilizes your mind, steadies your heart, anchors your spirit, and restores your strength.
Because when God says, “I will give you rest,” He is talking about a rest that touches every part of you: emotional, physical, spiritual, mental, even financial.
A few years ago during therapy, my therapist said something I’ll never forget:
“Your body always tells the truth your mouth may not know how to say.”
And oh, how true it was.
The headaches.
The anxiety.
The sudden numbness.
The exhaustion that sleep couldn’t fix.
These weren’t just inconveniences but invitations back to God.
Isaiah 40:29 says,
“He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.”
God doesn’t shame the weary.
He strengthens them.
So if no one has told you lately, let me be the one to tell you: I see you.
I see the father carrying battles no one knows about.
I see the mother who pours out even when she feels empty.
I see the woman who smiles for everyone but hasn’t exhaled in weeks.
I see the man who is tired, not because he’s weak, but because he’s been truly showing up. |
