I think somewhere along the way, a lot of us women learned that everything depends on us.
Our families. Our relationships. Our jobs. Our homes.
And listen, we matter. We contribute. We are important in those spaces.
But we are not the catalyst holding everything together.
For me, some of that instinct comes from being a single mom. For years, if something needed to be figured out, I figured it out. If Jake needed something, I handled it. If money was tight, plans changed or life threw something unexpected at us, there wasn’t another parent in the house to look at and say, “Your turn.”
It was my turn.
Every time.
So I became really good at figuring things out. And I’m grateful for that version of me. She got us through a lot.
But I’m learning that something necessary in one season can become a burden in another.
When you’re used to being the one who fixes, manages, reminds and carries, it’s easy to believe that if you stop, everything is going to fall apart.
Part of learning to rest, and really learning to trust God, has been realizing:
I matter here. But everything doesn’t depend on me.
And apparently, that lesson comes with another one I don’t particularly enjoy.
Just because I can do something doesn’t mean it’s mine to do.
Even worse? Sometimes I know I can do it better.
That is REALLY frustrating.
Because when you’re used to being the one who figures it out, fixes it or just gets it done, standing back can feel almost irresponsible. But I’m learning there’s a difference between being capable and being responsible.
Not everything I notice is mine to fix. Not everything I can carry is mine to pick up. And not everything I can do is mine to do.
Sometimes loving people means allowing them to carry what belongs to them. Sometimes trusting God means resisting the urge to intervene just because I’m uncomfortable watching something remain unresolved.
And sometimes rest isn’t about doing nothing.
Sometimes it’s putting down something that was never mine to carry.
There was a season when a whole lot really did depend on me. I’m grateful for the woman who learned how to carry it.
But I don’t have to make her carry everything forever.
I can carry what belongs to me. I can let other people carry what belongs to them.
And I can trust God with the rest.