When the Waves Keep Coming

Psalm 61:2 — “From the end of the earth I call to you when my heart is faint. Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.”

There have been periods in life when the weight of everything feels like it was too much. And I had barely a moment to catch my breath before, I knew it the new wave came crashing in. Perhaps you’ve had a similar experience or are having one now. In conversations with people, this is where many are at now.

For you, it might have started with your parent’s health declining, slowly at first, and suddenly you’re thrust into this unexpected role; scheduling and attending  appointments, taking care of documents, medical bills, and their household as well as your own. 

Perhaps it’s your marriage; stress has been piling up, and communication just isn’t what it used to be. Lately, it seems every conversation becomes an argument, and the bond you once shared seems to be slipping throuh your finges. The love remains somewhere in the background, yet it feels distant. And if you’re honest, you’re scared.

Sadly, family drama has begun again, reopening old wounds and continuing the exhausting cycle of unspoken resentments. The same tiring routines have returned, and you find it both frustrating and utterly exhausting. Grounding yourself is proving difficult as the past relentlessly resurfaces. At the moment, you’re near your breaking point; work adds more stress and exhaustion. You’re overwhelmed, constantly playing catch-up, and struggling to keep up.

Sometimes it’s not one big thing; it’s the everyday demands that never seem to stop. You’re running from one appointment to the next, juggling kids’ practices, school events, work deadlines, commitments, and errands. Laundry is piling up, dishes are in the sink, the house needs cleaning, and the lawn won’t mow itself. Finances are tight, and the due dates are slipping by without being paid. Deep down, you’re barely holding it together. No one sees how close you are to falling apart.

Every part of your life demands more than you have to give. And perhaps you haven’t said it out loud, but somewhere deep inside, you wonder: God, how much more do You think I can take?

On top of everything else, your own body isn’t cooperating. You might be dealing with fatigue, chronic pain, or health problems that make everything harder. Some days, getting out of bed takes everything you’ve got. You put on a smile when people ask how you’re doing, but deep down, you’re just trying to make it through the day without breaking down.

I’ve walked through a few of these seasons myself, not all of these things, but a couple of them, and it was real, raw, and exhausting. I’ve had days where getting out of bed felt like a battle. I’ve prayed prayers that felt like they hit the ceiling and dropped back down. I’ve had moments where the silence of God felt deafening, and the darkness seemed never-ending..

I’ll be frank; my responses haven’t always been the best. I didn’t run straight to God. I tried to handle it my way. I let my weariness drive my decisions and dictate my attitude. I let my frustration lead. Every time I’ve done that, the outcome has never ended well for me or the ones I love, things could have gone better. The weight grew heavier, and the peace I craved appeared farther away.

But here’s what I’ve learned, and am still learning: God doesn’t expect us to possess everything. He never asks us to be strong, perfect, or unshakable. In fact, His Word says the opposite. In 2 Corinthians 12:9, God tells Paul, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.” That means when we come to the end of ourselves, when we have nothing left to give, that’s when God steps in with His strength.

In Psalm 61, David doesn’t pretend to be strong; he doesn’t act like everything is fine. He says, “When my heart is overwhelmed, lead me to the rock that is higher than I.” David was honest, raw, and real; he didn’t try to clean himself up before coming to God. He didn’t pretend to be okay. He came as he was: overwhelmed, vulnerable. And instead of trying to climb higher on his own, he cried out to be led; led to the Rock. That’s humility, trust, and faith, even when you don’t feel strong.

Genuine power lives in David’s type of honesty. God can handle our exhaustion and mess. He can carry our frustrations, disappointments, and struggles. He’s not afraid of your questions or your doubts. He doesn’t want our performances; He only wants our hearts and honesty. He wants us to come to Him, as we are, with all of it. He already sees it, anyway.

In Matthew 11:28, Jesus says, “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Not rules, no pressure, just rest. That is what He is offering.

Strength doesn’t always look strong; Sometimes, strength is simply crawling to Jesus and whispering, Help me. And the good news is God hears you, sees you, and He’ll carry you when you can’t stand anymore.

If you’re facing one storm after another, and life feels like a constant struggle, know that you haven’t been forgotten. You are not invisible. And you are not alone! The same God who calmed the seas, who fed the five thousand, who wept at the tomb of Lazarus — that God is with you in your storm. Not waiting for it to end, but walking with you through every single wave.

You don’t have to fake it til you make it. You don’t have to have it all together. You just have to come. Crawl, if you must. Limp if you have to. Turn to Jesus, the rock that is higher, stronger, and more faithful than any challenge this world can bring.

And when you can’t take another step, He’ll carry you.