I feel like giving up.

There. I said it.

I do not mean I have stopped believing in God.

I do not mean I have stopped loving Him.

I mean I am tired.

There is a kind of tired that sleep does not fix.

It comes from carrying something too long.

From praying the same prayer until you are not sure what else to say.

From trying to stay hopeful when the thing you hoped for keeps moving farther away.

From telling yourself to keep going because that is what strong people do.

Sometimes I do not feel strong.

Sometimes I do not want another lesson.

I do not want somebody to tell me everything happens for a reason.

I do not want another person explaining that God's timing is perfect while I am the one doing the waiting.

I know the verses.

I know the sermons.

I know what I would probably tell somebody else if they were sitting across from me saying the same thing.

But there are days when knowing the right answer does not make carrying the weight any easier.

“I feel like giving up. And maybe part of my problem is that I have spent too much time believing I am not supposed to say that.”

Christians are supposed to have faith.

Leaders are supposed to be steady.

Fathers are supposed to hold things together.

People look at you differently when you admit you are tired.

So sometimes we learn to smile while something inside us is running out of strength.

But God already knows.

I am not shocking Him when I tell Him I am tired.

I am not disappointing Him because I finally admit that I do not know how much longer I can carry something.

There are prayers in Scripture that do not sound polished.

They sound hurt.

They sound confused.

They sound like people asking God where He is.

I understand those prayers better now.

Maybe faith is not always standing tall.

Sometimes faith is sitting down beside the road and saying, “Father, I cannot do this by myself anymore.”

Maybe that is not quitting.

Maybe that is finally telling the truth.

I have been thinking about how often I tell God what I am willing to endure as long as I already know how the story ends.

I can survive the desert if somebody tells me where the water is.

I can endure the waiting if somebody gives me the date.

I can carry the burden if somebody promises me exactly when I can put it down.

But that is rarely how life works.

Most of the time I only get today.

And some days, today feels like enough.

I do not need strength for the next ten years.

I need enough strength to get through this afternoon.

I need enough faith to pray one more time.

Enough humility to ask for help.

Enough patience not to make a permanent decision because I am exhausted by a temporary season.

Enough trust to believe that God may still be working somewhere I cannot see.

That is where I am.

I still believe my Father has good plans for me.

But I need to be careful with that sentence.

Because sometimes I say it as though good plans mean the things I want will eventually happen.

Maybe they will.

Maybe they will not.

I cannot make God’s goodness depend on Him giving me the ending I wrote for myself.

That is hard.

There are things I have wanted so badly that I have almost confused wanting them with being promised them.

There are doors I was convinced would open.

People I thought would stay.

Plans that seemed too right to fail.

And then they did.

That is where disappointment can start turning into something dangerous.

Not anger exactly.

Something quieter.

A tiredness of the soul.

You stop expecting much because expectation hurts.

You stop praying with the same confidence because silence has worn you down.

You keep showing up, but part of you has already started backing away.

I know that feeling.

And I do not want to live there.

So maybe today I do not need to solve everything.

Maybe I just need to stay.

Stay with God.

Stay honest.

Stay long enough to see what tomorrow brings.

There have been times in my life when I thought a chapter was the whole story.

It was not.

There were things I thought would destroy me.

They did not.

There were nights that felt endless.

Morning came anyway.

I forget that sometimes.

Pain has a way of convincing me that whatever I feel right now is what I will feel forever.

But I have lived long enough to know that is not true.

Things change.

People change.

I change.

Sometimes circumstances change.

Sometimes God changes the way I see them.

Sometimes the prayer gets answered.

Sometimes I eventually understand why it was not.

And sometimes there are things I may never understand on this side of eternity.

I am learning to leave room for that too.

“I feel like giving up. But feeling like giving up and giving up are not the same thing.”

Feelings are real.

They are not always instructions.

So I can admit that I am tired without surrendering everything I still believe.

I can tell God I am angry.

I can tell Him I am disappointed.

I can tell Him I expected something different.

I can tell Him that some days I do not understand what He is doing at all.

And then I can stay.

Maybe that is all I have today.

Stay.

Not because I suddenly feel better.

Not because somebody gave me a beautiful explanation.

Not because the problem disappeared.

Just because I have walked with God too long to believe this moment is the end of the story.

I know my Father.

I know enough about Him to stay one more day.

And tomorrow, if I am still tired, I will tell Him again.

Father, I am tired.

Father, I do not understand.

Father, I need You.

That may not sound like victory.

But maybe it is.

Maybe sometimes victory is not charging forward.

Maybe it is refusing to walk away.

So today I am not going to pretend.

I feel like giving up.
But I am still here.And for now, that is enough.