No. 14: Yes, I’m Thankful—But I’m Still Tired

When Gratitude Meets Exhaustion

This season asks for gratitude.

Everywhere I look—

reminders to give thanks,

to count blessings,

to hold joy close.

And I am thankful.

For family.

For home.

For the small, quiet things that hold me steady.

But I’m also tired.

Bone-deep tired.

The kind that seeps into the edges of everything.

And sometimes, that’s hard to admit

in a season that insists I be grateful

without question.

The Weight Beneath Gratitude

There’s an unspoken rule—

that gratitude should make exhaustion disappear.

That if we just focus on the good,

we won’t feel so heavy.

But that isn’t how it works.

I can love my life

and still feel drained by it.

I can see my blessings clearly

and still need a break from carrying them.

Gratitude doesn’t erase fatigue.

It simply helps me remember why I keep going.

The Body as Messenger

Lately, my body speaks louder than my thoughts.

It whispers, slow down.

It aches in small, quiet ways.

It sighs at the end of each day,

asking for gentleness I forget to give.

Rest used to feel like a luxury—

something to earn after everything else was done.

Now I’m learning it’s a form of reverence.

A way of saying thank you

to the body that does so much,

to the mind that keeps showing up,

to the heart that keeps feeling deeply.

A Quiet Reframe

Maybe rest is not the opposite of gratitude.

Maybe it’s how gratitude lives in the body.

When I stop rushing,

when I breathe,

when I let myself be still—

I’m not giving up.

I’m giving thanks.

Because rest says,

I already have enough.

I don’t need to earn my worth.

I don’t need to fill every space with doing.

Rest is how I honor what I already have.

A Reminder for You

If you’re thankful and tired—

you’re not doing it wrong.

You’re simply human.

You can love this life

and still need a pause.

You can be grateful

and still be weary.

This week, let your gratitude sound like a deep breath.

Let it look like a nap,

a walk,

a moment with nothing to fix.

Because you deserve to rest—

not as escape,

but as devotion.

—Steph