I Don’t Need to Be Everywhere

What I’ve learned from my always-on-the-go friend — and why I chose rest instead

Earlier this week, I got a text from a friend inviting me to go on a hike in Malibu.

I didn’t say yes.

I didn’t say no.

I just… left it open.

Because the truth is, even the idea of waking up early, getting dressed, driving out, and hiking felt like more than I had energy for.

And that feeling lingered for a few days — not loud, just quietly pressing against me:

Do I really want to go?

Why don’t I want to go?

Am I being antisocial? Flaky? Uninvolved?

I didn’t want to respond too quickly — not because I was indecisive, but because I was trying to listen to what my body and spirit actually needed.

And after a few days of letting the thought settle…

I made my decision.

I’m not going.

The Strength of Saying No

There’s nothing wrong with the hike.

There’s nothing wrong with my friend’s invitation.

She thrives on activity, on being out, on movement — and I respect that.

But I’ve realized: I don’t need to match her pace to value our friendship.

I don’t need to say yes just to stay connected.

I don’t need to be everywhere just to prove I belong.

And most importantly?

I don’t need to ignore my own exhaustion to preserve someone else’s expectation.

What Slowness Revealed

When I paused and listened, I realized how tired I really was.

Not just sleepy — soul tired.

The kind of tired that comes from constantly being needed, constantly going, constantly holding space for others while ignoring your own.

I didn’t need another event on my calendar.

I needed margin.

Because this weekend is already full — I’ll be serving at church, attending a big party on Saturday night, and pouring out emotionally in ways I know will take a toll.

Adding a hike on top of that wasn’t noble.

It was self-abandonment.

“In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength…” — Isaiah 30:15

Soul Insights

What I’m Learning From My Decision

1. Saying no doesn’t make me selfish — it makes me wise.

I struggled with FOMO — the fear that if I didn’t say yes, I’d be left out, forgotten, or miss something meaningful. But I’ve come to see that not every invitation leads to growth, and not every gathering is mine to attend. When I say no with intention, I’m not closing a door — I’m choosing a better one for my soul. God doesn’t need me in every room to bless me. Sometimes, tuning in to His voice means tuning out the noise of constant involvement.

2. Some people thrive in movement. I thrive in margin.

I’ve watched people who come alive when their schedule is packed, who gather energy from being around others. And I used to wonder if something was wrong with me because I didn’t feel the same way. But now I know: margin is where my soul breathes. I don’t need constant motion to feel purposeful. I need intentional space to feel connected — to God, to myself, to what actually matters.

3. I’m not built to go nonstop — and I don’t have to apologize for that.

There’s nothing noble about running on fumes. Pushing past my limits doesn’t make me more devoted — it makes me disconnected. My body was designed with limits for a reason, and honoring them is part of honoring God. The culture may glorify hustle, but heaven celebrates health. Rest is not an indulgence; it’s obedience.

4. If I don’t listen to my exhaustion, I’ll live in burnout.

The warning signs are subtle at first: irritability, apathy, mental fog. But ignore them long enough, and burnout stops being a season — it becomes your baseline. I’ve learned that exhaustion speaks quietly at first, then screams if you ignore it. My job is to listen when it whispers. Not everything is urgent, and not every invitation is for me.

5. God is often found in what I don’t attend.

Some of the deepest revelations I’ve had came not during an event, but in the hours I chose not to fill. In the stillness, I’ve heard Him say things I would’ve missed in the noise. Just because something is happening doesn’t mean I need to be there. Sometimes, presence with God looks like absence from people. And sometimes, the most faithful thing I can do… is stay home.

After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper.” — 1 Kings 19:12 (NIV)

Final Thoughts

This time, I chose not to go.

Not because I don’t care.

Not because I’m isolating.

But because I’m learning to trust the quiet knowing inside me that says:

“You don’t need to prove anything by showing up everywhere.”

So while others are hiking, I’ll be at home.

Resting.

Cleaning.

Creating.

Letting my body recover.

Letting my soul breathe.

And trusting that’s enough.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” — Matthew 11:28

Your Turn

Have you ever felt pressure to keep up with someone else’s pace — even when your soul was asking for rest?

I’d love to hear how you’ve navigated this tension.

Leave a comment below or whisper a prayer tonight to your own rhythm.

You don’t have to be everywhere to belong.

Soul Path Insights