Not My Will, But Yours
A Reflection on Surrender, Burnout, Rest, and God’s Gentle Direction
Life moves at such a rapid pace that, often without realizing it, we fall into a monotonous routine—repeating the same actions day after day. We become trapped in a cycle that feels both familiar and exhausting.
Here in Canada, the rhythm of life rarely slows. The world seems awake and bustling at all hours, filled with the hum of activity that never truly fades. You see people driving through the night—shift workers returning home, others beginning their shifts, and many juggling multiple jobs or racing against relentless deadlines. In this fast-paced landscape, countless people are simply trying to survive another hectic week.
We often say jokingly, “Wow, time flies.” But beneath those lighthearted words lies a deeper reality: pressure.
Pressure to make the right decisions.
Pressure to meet tight deadlines.
Pressure to perform, stay competitive, and not fall behind.
At work, we’re governed by policies, procedures, and checklists. Everything is measured. Everything is documented. Every minute is tracked. The relentless ticking of the clock reminds us to keep pushing, even when we’re exhausted.
We fear falling behind—especially in a culture of high expectations and uncertain job security. So we push ourselves, even when we’re drained.
But when the workday ends, the burden doesn’t always stay at work.
We bring it home:
Frustrations.
Stories of success.
Quiet disappointments.
Unmet expectations.
Much of this goes unspoken.
We protect an image.
We fear vulnerability.
We avoid appearing weak.
Some people avoid marriage due to the perceived weight of commitment. Others marry but decide not to have children, believing life already demands too much.
Then there’s home life.
If you have children, the work continues:
Dishes to wash.
Laundry to fold.
Homework to check.
Tasks that never seem to end.
Even rest starts to feel like another item on a to-do list.
And slowly, often without warning,
the soul begins to wear thin.
Carrying Too Much for Too Long
1. The Weight of Burdens
The more we try to carry burdens alone, the more we act as if we know the future—when in reality, we don’t.
Each day, the weight grows:
- Unfinished tasks
- Unspoken worries
- Unresolved pressure
Eventually, the load becomes too heavy.
Strength fades.
Moods shift.
Energy drains.
This weight doesn’t just affect the body—it touches the heart, clouds the mind, and influences our emotions. Patience runs short. Joy feels distant. Small challenges become overwhelming.
Sleep stops feeling restful.
Silence becomes loud.
Even peaceful moments feel rushed.
We might not call it burnout.
We just say, “I’m fine.”
In search of relief, we reach for coping mechanisms:
- Coffee
- Supplements
- Energy drinks
- Another push to “get through the day”
But instead of easing the burden, these quick fixes often deepen the weariness.
And the soul—created to find rest in God—keeps striving without pause.
2. Pressure in Church Life
This pressure doesn’t end when we step into church.
Sometimes, it follows us there.
We serve.
We volunteer.
We show up.
We smile.
We say, “God is good.”
But many of us are tired.
We silently compare our faith, service, and spiritual maturity to others.
We feel the unspoken pressure to appear strong, committed, and constantly available.
Rest starts to feel like laziness.
Saying no feels like disobedience.
Slowing down feels like falling behind.
So we keep going—
not always out of peace,
but from fear of disappointing others.
And again,
the soul grows weary.
3. The Weight of Trying to Lead Our Own Life
We don’t usually mean to take control away from God.
We simply want to do well.
To be responsible.
To make wise choices.
So we plan.
We strive.
We push forward—
believing we can handle it.
Our intentions may be good.
But the consequences are heavy.
When control becomes our comfort,
peace quietly slips away.
When we rely on our strength instead of God’s,
rest becomes rare.
We were never meant to carry life alone—
yet we try.
4. The Turning Point: A Prayer of Surrender
Eventually, effort runs out and honesty surfaces.
A quiet confession rises from the soul:
“I can’t carry this anymore.”
It’s not dramatic.
It’s not loud.
It’s just true.
In that sacred moment, a prayer is formed—
not polished, not long—
just surrendered:
“Not my will… but Yours.”
5. Jesus Shows Us the Way
Jesus Himself prayed this prayer.
In the garden, facing suffering and knowing the cost,
He said:
“Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me;
yet not my will, but yours be done.”
— Luke 22:42 (NIV)
Even Jesus surrendered.
Surrender is not weakness—
it is trust.
It is worship.
It is choosing the Father’s wisdom
over our own limited understanding.
6. What Surrender Looks Like Today
Surrender is practical.
It looks like:
- Releasing timelines
- Releasing outcomes
- Releasing fear
- Choosing obedience
- Choosing rest
It means letting go of control
and bravely choosing trust.
7. Rest Is a Gift, Not a Reward
Rest isn’t something we earn after completing everything.
It’s something God offers now.
Not when the list is done.
Not when life is settled.
Not when answers are clear.
Rest is God’s invitation
in the middle of uncertainty.
It is grace—
not payment.
8. A Gentle Invitation
Maybe today, your prayer doesn’t need many words.
Maybe it’s just:
“Lord, I give up my way. I choose Yours.”
That is enough.
9. A Closing Prayer
God, I lay it all down—
My plans.
My control.
My fears.
Lead me in Your peace.
Teach me to trust You again.
Not my will… but Yours.
Amen.
10. From the Heart of Worship
This reflection is inspired by the worship song “Not My Will, But Yours”—
written as a prayer for weary souls learning to rest in God’s loving direction.
✍️ By Pastor Reynante M. Trinidad
✝️ Faith + Care Life
Helping weary hearts find rest, healing, and direction in Christ.