Mommy Needs Jesus

When Faith Feels Heavy

Am I closed-minded?

Is this what I have simply been taught since birth, or is it actually the truth?

And if it is the truth, why does something that is supposed to be a gift feel so heavy?

Lately, I have found myself questioning. Wrestling.

I know feelings are not facts. But what facts should I be holding onto when my understanding of faith has been shaped by so many voices over the years?

The Lord called me from such a young age. I came to a saving knowledge of Him when I was five years old.

From there, my faith journey moved through a variety of church traditions. Baptist. Non-denominational. Pentecostal. Assembly of God. So many different trains of thought.

Yet somehow they all seemed to lead back to the same station.

Come as a sinner.
Be saved by grace through faith.

But somewhere along the way, something shifts.

Now perform.

Be on mission. Tell others. Live it out. Prove that your faith is real.

I heard many different voices along the way, but this part often sounded the same.

If you were truly saved, your life should look dramatically different.

So what happens when it doesn’t? When the same sin keeps pulling you back in?

When you know the right thing, want the right thing, pray about the right thing, and still find yourself back in the same place again?

When you promise God you will do better next time, and then find yourself right back where you started.

It creates a cycle that many of us know well.

Mess up.
Feel guilty.
Shame follows close behind.
Try harder.
Put in more effort.
Eventually get exhausted.
Start avoiding the fight or numbing the frustration for a while.
Then the cycle begins again.

What happens when the race of faith starts to feel more like pressure than grace?

And eventually the question begins to creep in.

If salvation really comes by grace, why does it feel like I keep failing at it?

Grace is supposed to mean that what Jesus did was enough, even on the days when I am clearly not.

Why does following Jesus feel like I am constantly falling short?

“I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.” (Romans 7:15)

The thought that often follows is the hardest one to say out loud.

Maybe if I were truly saved, I wouldn’t still struggle like this.

Maybe real Christians do better than this.

Maybe they grow past these patterns and move on.

Maybe the problem is me.

And before long, that thought turns into shame.

It is hard to share your faith when it feels like you are trying to sell something you are still trying to buy yourself.

And yet, if I am honest, the strongest thing I feel in the middle of all of this is not rejection.

It is longing.

Longing for something simpler.

Longing for the version of the gospel that actually feels like a gift.

Longing for Jesus Himself.

Maybe that longing is where faith begins again.

Because when I slow down and think about it honestly, I cannot deny the ways I have experienced God throughout my life.

He has been too real.

Too present.

Too faithful in too many moments for me to pretend that none of it mattered.

And yet the fear still lingers.

What if He is disappointed in me?

What if I should be doing better by now?

But maybe the real question is whether His grace was meant to carry me further than I thought.

I am still learning to believe that the grace that saved me is the same grace I need every day.

That even in the middle of the cycle, I still belong to Him.

Maybe freedom does not come from finally getting it right.

Maybe it begins by trusting that Jesus has not given up on me.

And that is what makes it a gift after all.

Have you felt this too?

The next step could be not trying harder, but fixing your eyes on Jesus again.

Surprise. I am mommy.

And lately, I needed to remember that.

I started this blog fifteen years ago simply because I needed somewhere to process what God was doing in my heart. But as time goes on and seasons shift, it is amazing how easy it is to forget the “why” behind something.

Yesterday, as I was going about my day, the Lord gently reminded me of my origin story.

Back then, I was physically exhausted and emotionally overwhelmed, sitting in a rocking chair at 2 a.m., asking God, “Why is this so hard?”

Writing became the way I centered myself again. It brought me back to what I actually needed, which was not more control or parenting books, but God.

As a visual learner, writing has always helped me hold onto what God was teaching me. In college, I was the note-taker. Everyone wanted to see what I wrote down. My handwriting has never been impressive, and writing at the speed of light to keep up with professors certainly did not improve it. But I captured everything.

That habit carried into my Christian walk. I have stacks of notebooks filled with sermon notes, podcast reflections, Bible study observations, and prayers scribbled in the margins. Page after page of what the Lord was teaching me in different seasons.

This blog and website were born from a deep need to preach the gospel to myself every day.

The more I write down what the Lord is showing me, the more I remember it in practice, not just in theory. There is something deeply comforting about going back and reading words written in earlier seasons of motherhood. I can see where I struggled. I can see where He was faithful. I can see growth I did not notice at the time.

Sharing what the Lord shares with me is simply an extension of His love. Not just for me, but for you. He uses each of us as reflections of the Holy Spirit within us. In His kindness, He allows our obedience to become someone else’s encouragement. This is one of the ways He brings heaven to earth.

This space may look like I am serving others. And I am. But it is also one of the ways the Lord serves me. Writing forces me to slow down, to sift through what is true, to come back to Him. In giving, I am also being formed.

And I wonder if the same is true for you.

Whatever you offer in your home, your church, or your friendships may be shaping you more than you realize. The Lord is refreshing your soul even as you care for someone else’s.

So let me ask you something.

What have you been doing lately that might actually be drawing you closer to Him?

It is a good reminder that the work before us is not only about caring for others. It is one of the tangible ways the Lord deepens our dependence on Him. Sometimes the shift we need is not in our schedule, but in our perspective. It may simply mean fixing our gaze upward again and seeing what we are doing through the lens of a loving Father.

Is that easy for you to grasp? That God loves you?

It is not always easy for me.

Which is exactly why He keeps leading me back to this space. To write it down and remind myself again and again that His love for me is not based on performance or dependent on productivity. It is not earned by spiritual effort.

His love is rooted in who He is and in the original intention with which He created me. Before I accomplished anything. Before I mothered anyone well or poorly. Before I served, wrote, led, or tried to fix anyone, He loved me.

He loves me because He is love.

He created me on purpose, not as a project to manage but as a daughter to cherish. That means I do not wake up each morning trying to secure His love. I wake up already held by it. My obedience flows from being loved, not from trying to be lovable.

As 1 John 4:19 reminds us, “We love because he first loved us.”

When I forget that, I start striving. When I remember it, I start abiding.

And abiding is living from love instead of working for it.

Thank you, Jesus, for your gentle reminders.

One day at a time,

fixing your eyes on Jesus,

abiding to thrive.

xo,

Paula

The amount of pressure we place on ourselves as moms is a heavy load.

Now combine that with being a Christian mom.

Mom guilt thought it was big and bad until it met Christian mom guilt! Somewhere along the way, we started believing that if we love Jesus, we should be doing more, fixing more, serving more, advising more, and holding more together.

But where in Scripture are we told to strive harder and carry everything ourselves?

We are not.

Jesus says something entirely different:

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me… For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
— Matthew 11:28–30

His burden is light. Not crushing or suffocating. Not built on performance or endless effort. It is light because He carries what we cannot.

And yet, so many of us live as though Jesus handed us a longer checklist instead of an invitation to rest.

The Fixer Trap

How often do we place pressure on ourselves to fix other people?

We jump in with advice. We analyze. We anticipate outcomes. We try to manage other people’s growth, healing, or spiritual maturity. Sometimes we call it love.

But what if love looks more like pointing than performing?

There have been many seasons when friends regularly came to me for advice. At the time, I assumed that was completely normal. I listened. I processed. I offered what I thought was wise counsel.

And then I started to feel resentful.

When the same patterns repeated.
When the same mistakes resurfaced.
When the conversations circled back again.

If I am being honest, there were moments I thought, Why are you coming to me if you are not going to take my advice? Why are you wasting my time?

But the real issue was not them.

It was me.

I was trying to be their savior. And that will never work.

I was not meant to carry the weight of changing someone’s life. I was meant to carry the Holy Spirit within me and use His wisdom to gently point people back to Him, not to what I thought they should do.

Yes, the Lord will sometimes give us something clear and timely to say. He absolutely uses us. But more often than not, the wisdom He gives is quieter than the advice culture we have grown used to. It is less about managing someone’s behavior and more about reminding them who God is.

Advice-giving has become normalized. But discipleship is different.

And I had to learn the difference.

When we take on roles that belong to God, we eventually collapse under the weight.

Psalm 55:22 reminds us:

“Cast your burden on the Lord, and he will sustain you.”
— Book of Psalms 55:22

It does not say, “Carry everyone else’s burden so they do not have to.” It says cast. Release what was never yours to control and trust the One who truly sustains.

Boundaries Are Not Unspiritual

A life without boundaries is a life with more than enough problems. Too many times we become fixers instead of encouragers.

And even when we encourage, we need to ask ourselves: Are we pointing someone to Christ and their identity in Him, or are we subtly pointing them to ourselves and our opinions?

True encouragement reminds someone of who God is and what He says about them. It strengthens their dependence on Christ, not on us.

There is a difference between walking alongside someone and positioning ourselves as their solution.

If Not Me, Then Who?

Here is the question that often drives our exhaustion: If I do not step in, who will?

But maybe that question reveals something deeper. Maybe we struggle to believe that God is actually at work apart from us. Maybe we forget that the Holy Spirit is far more capable of conviction, comfort, and transformation than we are.

The Gospel frees us from being the savior in every story. We already have one.

I write from a place of been there, done that. I do not have the T-shirt. Well, actually I do, but it has stains and holes and is not one you would want to wear. The only thing I wear proudly is the gospel that saved me.

This is not false humility. It is surrender to the one true thing that will sustain us all: the Gospel.

Christ has already carried what we were never meant to hold. So maybe the better question is not, “If not me, then who?” Maybe the better question is, “Jesus, what have You actually asked of me today?” And then trust Him with the rest.

One day at a time, fixing our eyes on Jesus, abiding to thrive.

Even when it feels slow, confusing, or unfair, the waiting God allows in your life is never without purpose.

I have never met anyone who enjoys waiting.

I think our shared dislike of waiting is one of the common bonds of humanity. The line at the grocery store. Traffic. A returned text message that never seems to come. Waiting rarely feels pleasant.

Unless we shift our focus.

Very few things in life are exactly what they seem. Taking things at face value works sometimes, but ultimately we have to look beyond what we can see. We have to put on our kingdom lens, so to speak, and ask what God might be doing underneath the surface.

When He has us in a season of waiting, we can conclude a few things:

• He loves us and is a good Father
• He has our best interest at heart
• He knows more than we do
• He is sovereign

Knowing these things about God does not automatically make waiting easy, but it does steady us. It reminds us that something deeper is happening.

He Loves Us

This is the foundational truth everything else in our life should be built on.

It changes the way we see ourselves. It changes the way we see our circumstances. It changes the way we interpret delays and detours.

If love is what motivates our Creator, then even when things are not going our way, we can rest. Not because it all makes sense. Not because it feels comfortable. But because we know His heart.

Scripture tells us:

“But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”
— Romans 5:8 (ESV)

And again:

“See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are.”
— 1 John 3:1 (ESV)

If you have children of your own, it is a little easier to grasp this kind of love. You would move heaven and earth for them. You protect them. You guide them. You say no sometimes. You let them wait sometimes. Not because you enjoy their disappointment, but because you can see what they cannot see.

Even loving my own children more than I can put into words, I still sometimes find it hard to fully comprehend that kind of love from God. It feels almost too steady. Too faithful. Too constant.

But His love is not based on my performance. It does not fluctuate with my obedience. It is not pulled back when I question Him.

When we are waiting, we are still loved.
When we are confused, we are still loved.
When we do not understand, we are still loved.

Waiting does not cancel love. Sometimes it is an expression of it.

He Has Our Best Interest at Heart

When I think about God’s intentions toward us, one verse comes to mind immediately:

“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.”
— Romans 8:28 (ESV)

All things.

The betrayal.
The diagnosis.
The prayer that feels unanswered.
The opportunity that slipped through your fingers.

How can so much pain and suffering exist under the authority of a good God?

We have to put our eternal, kingdom-focused lens back on. God is not the author of confusion or chaos, but that does not mean He does not use both to accomplish His purposes. He wastes nothing.

“For God is not a God of confusion but of peace.”
— 1 Corinthians 14:33 (ESV)

Nothing touches our lives without first passing through His hands. That does not mean we will understand it in the moment. It does mean we can trust that He sees the whole picture.

Waiting may feel like a detour. It may actually be direction.

He Knows More Than We Do

Do you ever question God? Not just His timing, but His ways?

You are not alone.

We tend to turn to God most when we feel out of control or at the end of ourselves. The truth is, we are more dependent than we realize. We hold tightly. We try to manage outcomes. We convince ourselves that if we just try harder, we can secure the result we want.

But that kind of striving rarely brings peace.

Isaiah reminds us:

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord.
For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.”
— Isaiah 55:8–9 (ESV)

And Proverbs says:

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
and do not lean on your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge him,
and he will make straight your paths.”
— Proverbs 3:5–6 (ESV)

If He sees the beginning and the end, and we only see what is right in front of us, then maybe waiting is not something to resist. Maybe it is something to surrender to.

He Is Sovereign

God’s sovereignty is something I still try to grasp daily.

It does not just mean God is in control. It does not just mean He is all-knowing. It does not just mean He is all-powerful. It goes deeper than all of that.

In one of his sermons, Charles Spurgeon, the English preacher and theologian, said:

“There is no attribute of God more comforting to his children than the doctrine of Divine Sovereignty. Under the most adverse circumstances, in the most severe troubles, they believe that Sovereignty hath ordained their afflictions, that Sovereignty overrules them, and that Sovereignty will sanctify them all.”

That should give us comfort.

Our wills, ways, and whims do not overpower God. We cannot derail His plans. In other words, we are not as important as we sometimes think we are.

We get wrapped up in pride and forget that the clay does not tell the potter how to shape it.

“But now, O Lord, you are our Father;
we are the clay, and you are our potter;
we are all the work of your hand.”
— Isaiah 64:8 (ESV)

We do not supersede Christ.

Waiting may feel like everything has stopped, but it has not. God is still working. He is still ruling. He is still accomplishing His purposes, even in the pause.

And that is not meant to discourage us. It is meant to steady us.

Shift the lens.

Finding peace with God when the next step feels unclear

“Answer me quickly, Lord.
Do not hide your face from me.
Show me the way I should go,
for to You I entrust my life.”
Psalm 143:7–8

“Do not hide Your face from Your servant,
for I am in distress.
Answer me quickly.”
Psalm 69:17

Do you ever find yourself unsure of what to do next? When you are facing a decision and longing for clarity, moments like that can feel heavy, especially when they are time-sensitive. A move. A job offer. A lease that needs to be signed. A pregnancy. Choosing a school. The weight of deciding can feel overwhelming, especially when you are already carrying so much as a mom.

For many of us, these moments happen in the middle of ordinary life. While packing lunches. Folding laundry. Lying awake after the house is finally quiet. We are doing our best to be faithful, but still wondering which way to go.

In those moments, it can feel like we are crying out into silence. Like we need an answer now and are afraid we might miss it.

But here is the good news.

God is not hiding from us. He is not distant or withholding. He is present. He is near. And while some answers take time, God is faithful to give us what we need for today. Not always the full picture, but the next faithful step.

Prayers and Fasting

When you need guidance, start by being specific with God. Write down exactly what you are asking Him for. Name the decision. Name the fear. Name the hope. Pair your prayers with Scripture that reminds you of who God is and how He leads His people.

You may also feel led to fast during this season. Fasting does not have to look the same for everyone. It could be a meal, a certain type of food, sugar, social media, television, or your phone. Fasting is not about punishment or performance. It is about creating space. Space to listen. Space to notice. Space to remind your heart where your dependence truly lies.

Put in the Work

This part is not about proving anything to God. You never have to earn His love, attention, or approval.

This step is for you.

Putting in the work can be as simple as surrendering your worries and laying them at His feet. It can look like obedience when God nudges you toward something small but uncomfortable. It is about choosing a posture of dependence and undistracted attention.

That might mean getting on your knees, sitting quietly alone, opening your Bible, journaling specific prayers, listening to worship music, or taking a slow walk outside. Do whatever helps you quiet the noise and turn your heart toward God.

Be still. Be honest. Be present.

Peace

Peace is often the byproduct of time spent with the Lord.

Prayer leads to breakthrough.
Breakthrough leads to peace.

Peace does not always mean you suddenly have every answer. Sometimes it simply means assurance. A calm confidence that you can take the next step. That you do not have to stay frozen in fear. That God is leading, even if the path unfolds one step at a time.

What decision are you holding right now that you need to place back into God’s hands?

When peace comes, you can move forward trusting that He is with you.

A Prayer for today

Lord, I need You right now.
I confess that my heart feels overwhelmed and unsure.
I bring my questions, my fears, and my decisions to You.
Help me slow down and listen for Your voice.
Show me the next right step, even if You do not show me the whole picture.
Teach me to trust You with my timing, my plans, and my life.
I place my dependence fully on You.
Amen.

You are not alone in your waiting.
God is near. He is speaking. And He is faithful to lead.

One day at a time,
lifting our eyes back to Jesus,
abiding to thrive.