When You’re Tired but Still Trying: A
Crossroads with God
Have you ever followed God so faithfully that
you’d swear you were walking exactly in His will… only to look around one day
and realize you’re standing in the rubble of something you thought He built
with you?
That’s where I’m at right now. And to be
honest, I don’t even want to dress it up with spiritual language today. I just
want to be real. Not perform. Not posture. Just share.
Because maybe someone else reading this feels
the same way.
The Blessing I Carried
For the past few years, I’ve been carrying a
blessing. A growing business. And not just growing for the sake of success, but
one that truly let me care for others. I’ve been able to support my aging
parents, provide for myself with dignity, and give to others when needs have
come up. That alone is a huge gift—one I never take lightly.
I genuinely thought I was honouring God
through it. Every decision I made, every client I served, every seed I
planted—it all felt like it was in line with what God wanted me to do. I wasn’t
trying to build a kingdom of my own. I was trying to build something for His.
That’s what I told myself. That’s what I believed.
So when the time came to grow—to bring others
into this mission, to expand the reach, to create a team that could carry this
mantle further—I stepped forward boldly. Confidently. Prayerfully.
And then it crumbled. Twice.
Two Tries, Two Failures
You don’t need all the details. But I brought
people in who I thought were the right fit. People who, at least for a moment,
felt aligned with the bigger picture of what I thought God wanted to do through
this business.
But both times, it didn’t last.
It’s not even about blame. It’s not about who
was right or wrong. All I know is that what I tried to build with them fell
apart. Fast. What I hoped would be a ministry disguised as a marketplace felt
more like a lesson in heartache. And now I sit here, wondering if maybe I got
the whole thing wrong.
What if I’m not supposed to do this?
What if this business, which once felt like a
calling, has become something I’ve just been trying to keep alive out of pride?
What if this is God’s way of saying, “You’ve
gone far enough. This is the end of this road.”
I’m So Tired
I don’t say this lightly: I’m tired.
Not physically—I mean spiritually.
Emotionally. Soul-level tired. You know the kind. The kind where even prayer
feels like a struggle. Where reading the Word doesn’t light you up the way it
used to. Where you second-guess everything you’ve ever thought you heard from
God, because the fruit you’re seeing doesn’t look anything like the promise you
believed.
This isn’t just disappointment—it’s
disorientation.
I used to be so sure. I used to wake up with
vision. With direction. With a clear sense of what needed to be done and why.
But now? Now I’m unsure of everything except that I’m unsure.
And it hurts.
Have You Ever Been Here?
So I’m asking you now, reader. Yes, you. Have
you ever been here?
Have you ever taken a step you felt God asked
you to take, only to have it backfire completely?
Have you ever walked away from a stable path
to follow a whisper, only to have that whisper lead you straight into a storm?
If so, then you know this ache. This shaking
of the foundations. This desperate desire to rewind the clock and somehow do it
differently. But also, underneath all that… the quiet hope that maybe—just
maybe—this isn’t the end. That maybe God’s still here, even in the failure.
Where Is God in the Failure?
That’s the real question, isn’t it?
Not, “Why did this fail?” but “Where is God in
this failure?”
It’s easy to believe He’s with us when things
are growing, when team members thrive, when expansion feels inevitable. But
when things fall apart? When the people you trusted disappoint you? When your
own leadership comes into question? That’s when faith gets real.
And honestly… this is where I’m struggling.
Because I’ve always believed that God doesn’t
waste pain. That even the messiest chapters can be redeemed. But in the thick
of it, it’s hard to see that. Right now, I’m not seeing beauty from ashes. I’m
just seeing ashes.
What Do I Do Now?
That’s my question. My prayer. My journal
entry. My cry in the dark.
What do I do now?
Do I rebuild?
Do I pivot?
Do I quit?
Do I shrink things back down and just hold on
tight to what’s left?
Or do I take the biggest leap of all—another
step into the unknown, trusting that somehow, even though I feel like I’m
failing, God is still writing something with my life?
I don’t have the answer.
But maybe the Holy Spirit does.
This Is Me, Asking
You know how usually when you’re stuck,
someone recommends a book? Or a podcast? Or a retreat?
But not today.
Today, I’m not the one writing the answers.
I’m asking you.
What has the Holy Spirit whispered to you as
you read these words?
I don’t mean what would you say to me
if we were sitting across the table. I mean deep down—has anything stirred? Has
anything risen up inside of you as you walked through this valley with me?
Because maybe, just maybe, the answer I need
isn’t in a book I haven’t read yet… maybe it’s in your story. In your pain. In
your redemption. In your God.
A Time to Rebuild or a Time to Rest?
There’s a verse in Ecclesiastes that’s echoing
in my mind: “There is a time to build and a time to tear down.”
That’s what I’m wrestling with.
Was the tearing down that happened this year
part of God’s plan? Or was it a result of my own missteps?
Is now a time to rebuild—with new wisdom, new
boundaries, and new discernment?
Or is now a time to rest—to pull back, to let
the soil heal before planting again?
I don’t know.
I really don’t.
But I trust that God does.
And I’m asking Him to speak.
I Still Believe… Even If
Even in the doubt, I still believe.
Even in the silence, I still seek.
Even in the confusion, I still worship.
Why? Because at the end of the day, I’m not in
this business for a paycheck or for praise—I’m in this because I wanted to
serve. To provide. To glorify God through my work. And while I may have fumbled
the details, I know my heart started out right.
Maybe yours did too.
And maybe, like me, you’re wondering what to
do when your best effort wasn’t enough.
Maybe the Answer Isn’t Doing
Maybe the answer right now isn’t doing
anything.
Maybe the answer is just sitting in God’s
presence and letting Him speak.
Letting Him remind you that your worth doesn’t
come from the team you manage or the profit you earn. That you are still His.
Still chosen. Still called.
And maybe what He wants most right now isn’t a
plan—but surrender.
To the One Who Feels Beat Up
If you feel like you’ve failed, like you’re at
the end of yourself, I want to say this to you:
You are not alone.
I’m with you.
God is with you.
And even when it feels like everything is
falling apart, something holy is happening. You may not see it yet. You may not
feel it. But faith isn’t about feelings. It’s about holding on.
So hold on.
Even if your grip is weak. Even if all you can
do is whisper, “Jesus, help.”
That’s enough.
He’s enough.
A Final Prayer
God, I don’t know what comes next.
I don’t know why this hurts so much.
But I trust You still.
I trust that You’re not done with me.
I trust that even in failure, there’s purpose.
I ask for wisdom. For healing. For courage.
Show me what to do, Lord.
And if doing isn’t the point—if just being
with You is what You want—then help me rest in that.
Help me believe again.
Help me begin again.
Amen.
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