When the Weight is too Much
I’m realising, there’s something raw about songwriting—how a lyric can say what you can’t quite get out in a conversation or even in prayer. That’s what Heavy was for me.
I wrote these lyrics during a time that I’d describe as emotionally dark. Maybe not full-blown depression, but a heavy cloud of frustration, self-disappointment, and anger. Not at anyone else—just at myself. Because once again, I had let my relationship with God slip into the background.
I had just come off a season where God felt so present, so active. I had spent over a year pouring myself into writing A Prodigal Journey. Then came the devotional project I created for Landon. Those things weren’t just accomplishments—they were deeply spiritual experiences. They kept me rooted. They kept me connected.
But when the projects ended, so did my rhythm.
I didn’t mean to drift. I never do. But somehow I let intentional time with God fade, little by little. And suddenly, I found myself waking up each day carrying a weight that I knew didn’t come from Him. It came from me—from trying to manage everything on my own, from pushing Him to the side, and from forgetting that I don’t have to carry it all.
Heavy was my cry in that moment. A cry for grace, for relief, for closeness again.
“It’s heavy, but You’re steady…”
Those words became a prayer. A reminder. That even when I fall short—when I fail to live up to my own expectations—He’s still steady. Still near. Still ready to lift what I can’t.
Because I’m not a musician, I couldn’t fully bring the song to life on my own. But I used some AI and computer programs to create an audio version of Heavy—just something simple I could listen to in my car or with headphones when I needed the reminder. Hearing it in song form helps me reflect, refocus, and remember where I’ve been… and how far God has brought me.
Maybe you’ve felt that too. The guilt of falling back into old habits. The ache of knowing better but not doing better. The weight of trying to make your way back to God.
Here’s what I’ve learned: God isn’t asking for perfection. He’s asking for presence. For surrender. For honesty.
If you're carrying something heavy today—shame, regret, frustration with yourself—I want to remind you that you're not alone. And more than that, I want to remind you that you don’t have to carry it alone.
He’s still steady.
