When Your Spirit Has Vision but Your Body Needs Sleep

(aka The Spirit Is Willing, But My Battery Died at my Couch)

I wanted to keep going tonight.

My spirit had the playlist ready, the to-do list open, the devotional project half-drafted, and a second wind queued up in theory. But my body?

She packed her bags at 9 p.m., changed into pajamas without permission, and whispered something along the lines of:

“You can try to keep working, but I’m clocking out—good luck without me.”

I’m writing this not from momentum, but from that maddening tension between calling and capacity—where your desire to do more crashes into the hard wall of being human.

You know the verse:

“The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”—Matthew 26:41 (NIV)

Tonight, that wasn’t just scripture.

It was the most relatable sentence in my body.

🛑 The Setup: I Had Plans

I was going to gather all my devotionals into one master sheet. I was going to start outlining a digital product. I even thought about a happy hour detour and a BTS pilgrimage to Orange County. I built a Custom GPT called The Voice Keeper—a personal editor to refine my work. And I still had energy left to dream up what comes next.

Except I didn’t.

Because after my Trader Joe’s run—putting frozen butter chicken, tomato cherries, and a bag of judgmental broccoli slaw into my fridge—my body issued a very clear threat:

“Keep pushing and I’ll make you regret it.”

“Rest is the basis of productivity, not the enemy of it.” —Alex Soojung-Kim Pang

And yet, here I was—arguing with that truth, trying to outrun the need for recovery, as if my worth was tied to how long I could outlast exhaustion.

🧠 The Clash: Spirit vs. Flesh, Creative Edition

What do you do when your soul still wants to make something, but your eyes are already half-closed?

How do you honor the sacred drive to create without bulldozing the sacred limits of your body?

For me, the answer started in frustration, passed through grace, and landed in surrender.

Because the spirit may be willing—but the body has a firm boundary, and tonight, she drew the line.

“He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.”

—Isaiah 40:29 (NIV)

💬 Quote Interlude:

“You are not required to set yourself on fire to keep others warm.” —Unknown

Nor to keep up with your own ambitions. Nor to finish the devotional draft tonight. Nor to be productive at the cost of peace.

🌿 Soul Insights

(aka What My Exhaustion Is Teaching Me)

1. Desire is not the same as capacity.

Wanting to do more doesn’t mean you have the reserves to.

The heart can be lit up and the body still tapped out—and that’s not failure. That’s biology.

2. Rest is not laziness. It’s leadership.

Sometimes, the most obedient thing you can do is stop—and trust that God’s still moving even when you’re not.

3. You can’t write devotionals about grace while refusing to give yourself any.

I caught myself halfway through the guilt spiral: “I should’ve used that time better. I should’ve written. I should’ve organized.”

But grace says, “You’re not a machine. You’re allowed to pause, unplug, and not prove.”

The world won’t fall apart because I watched In the SOOP. My soul might’ve needed the softness more than the bullet points.

4. My body is not the enemy of my calling.

It’s the vehicle. And if I keep pushing past warning lights, eventually it’ll break down on me mid-mission. I can’t serve well from an empty shell.

5. The work will wait. The burnout won’t.

My calling isn’t going anywhere. But my clarity, peace, and energy will—if I treat them like afterthoughts.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

—Matthew 11:28 (NIV)

That verse isn’t just poetic. It’s an invitation to stop pretending we’re limitless.

🌙 Final Thoughts:

If you’re like me—wired for purpose, driven by vision, and perpetually planning your next big leap—you probably know this war well. That push-pull between what your spirit sees and what your body can carry.

Tonight, I’m choosing to trust that the work will be waiting after I rest.

That Voice Keeper, my frozen broccoli slaw, and the devotional doc are all still going to be there in the morning.

And more importantly—so will I.

Not burned out.

Not bitter.

Just rested.

Still called.

Still human.

📌 Your Turn

When was the last time your body raised the white flag while your mind was still firing on all cylinders?

Drop your story in the comments or DM me—I’d love to hear how you honor your limits without muting your dreams.

Soul Path Insights