Every family faces stress and adversity. Some can come through it stronger. Others are left broken, needing time—and grace—to begin again.
Our family is still in that in-between place. Struggling to find solid ground. Hoping to come through this season better than we began.
The past three years have brought their share of challenges and heartbreak. For us, it’s felt like one thing after another, with very little time to recover. Plans had to be postponed. Pressure mounted. Stress became constant.
In 2021, after two years of caregiving, we moved my mom into my sister’s home. I’m grateful for her willingness to care for Mom in ways I couldn’t. Just after her 93rd birthday, Mom passed in November.
As we stepped into 2022, we were hopeful. Our sons were stepping into adulthood. My husband was thinking about retiring from law enforcement. Life felt like it was finally opening up again.
Then in August, my husband’s father died of cancer.
His loss was devastating. He had been the gentle, faithful patriarch of the family—the glue that held everyone together. Losing him left a gap we’re still trying to understand.
The family rallied to support my mother-in-law, already struggling with complications from diabetes. But heartbreak came again far too soon. We lost her unexpectedly on March 24.
Since then, my husband and I have been preparing her home for sale—a house full of memories and meaning. Every drawer we open reveals another layer of their 50+ years together. Some stories we know. Others feel like whispered secrets we’re only now discovering.
It’s emotionally and physically draining. The pressure of deadlines, the grief of letting go, the constant stress—it’s been overwhelming.
Recently, I told my husband I’d found the perfect word for what I’m feeling:
Weary.
Not just tired. Weary.
What it Means to Be Weary
The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines weary as:
Exhausted in strength, endurance, vigor, or freshness; having one’s patience, tolerance, or pleasure exhausted.
Synonyms? Burned out. Drained. Jaded. Tapped out.
Tapped out. That phrase made sense.
I feel like peace and joy are out of reach. Like I’m doing all the right things, but none of it is enough to refill what’s been emptied.
Self-help advice—like taking time off, doing more self-care, or changing your routine—only goes so far. Sometimes the weariness goes deeper than that.
Solomon Knew This Kind of Weariness Too
King Solomon, the wisest man who ever lived, wrote honestly about this kind of fatigue. In the book of Ecclesiastes, he explores the futility of life—how even pleasure and possessions leave us empty. It’s heavy reading. But then we reach Ecclesiastes 3, and something shifts:
“For everything there is a season,
a time for every activity under heaven…”
And eventually, these words:
“Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time.”
Yet.
That tiny word carries so much weight.
Even when we don’t see the purpose in our pain…
Even when joy feels far away…
God is still at work.
He is making everything beautiful—for its own time.
We will experience the “yet.”
The Hope That Keeps Us Moving
The Apostle Paul reminds us in Romans 8:28 that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love Him. Not everything is good—but God can use it for good.
Jesus said it even more tenderly:
“Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens,
and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28-29)
Right now, that promise is my anchor.
Yes, life is hard. Yes, this season has taken more than I thought I could give. But I’ve seen what God has done before. I believe He’s not finished.
So we don’t give up. We keep showing up.
We keep doing the next right thing.
We keep looking for the blessings—even when we feel broken.
A New Season Will Come
Right now, in Texas, spring is in full bloom. Bluebonnets cover the roadsides. The air is gentle, and strawberries are ready to pick. The backyard garden is calling. There are long walks before summer’s heat sets in.
Spring always reminds me: seasons change. Even long ones. Even the hard ones.
Some seasons feel endless—like a Texas summer. But they do change. And even in our sorrow, God is gently planting something new.
So wherever you are, whatever you’re facing…
Look for the “yet.”
It may be quiet. But it’s there. And it means the story isn’t over.
Journaling Prompts:
- What does the word “weary” mean to you in this season of life? Physically, emotionally, or spiritually.
- Reflect on a past season when you saw God bring beauty from hardship. How did your perspective shift afterward?
- What does “look for the yet” mean in your current circumstances?
- Write about the burdens you’re carrying right now, and write a prayer, laying them at Jesus feet.
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