It’s no longer my goal to be anyone’s go-to. My only goal now is to make God mine.
For so long, I made a habit of being available, answering every call, holding space for everyone else’s hurt, putting my own soul on the shelf just to keep others steady. I gave from wells that were running dry, and I did it quietly, without expecting anyone to notice the cost.
But I can’t do that anymore. Because I’m in a season where surviving takes everything, where healing is sacred, where stillness is obedience.
I’m not just tired, I’ve been drowning. Drowning in grief. In expectations. In the noise of a world that keeps asking me to be “okay” when I’m still putting the pieces back together.
Even Jesus withdrew to lonely places to pray (Luke 5:16). He didn’t ask permission. He didn’t explain Himself. He just went. Because sometimes, solitude is where true restoration begins.
I’m not lost. I’m not cruel. I’m just being held by the only One who truly sees me.
And He says: “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” – Matthew 11:28
So if anyone feels like I am distant, know this, it isn’t about love lost. It’s about space claimed. It’s about setting down guilt, refusing to chase connection, and choosing instead to be rooted in grace and quiet trust.
“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.” -Ecclesiastes 3:1
This is my season to grieve. To breathe. To be still. To stop striving and just listen. To let God be the one I run to.
Sometimes that means certain things just can’t take priority not because they don’t matter, but because I’m in a season where some things (or people) demand more than I have to give right now. The friendships, the invitations, the expectations…they’re not being abandoned. They’re just not where my focus can be right now.
I’m not angry, I’m just limited. And I won’t carry guilt for that anymore. I won’t feel guilty for choosing healing over hustle. Presence over performance. Peace over pressure.
I still love. I still care. But I refuse to cling to roles I’m not able to carry.
My heart is still soft, just a little quieter. My soul is still open, just no longer available on demand. Because in this season, it’s not my job to be everything for anyone.
It’s my calling to be held by the One who is everything for me.
