
There are days when life does not look dramatic on the outside, yet everything inside feels heavy. I still wake up. I still show up. I still do what needs to be done. From the outside, it looks like strength. From the inside, it feels like carrying a full case of water bottles with no one noticing and no one offering to help.
Lately, I have realized that my soul has been carrying more than it needs to. Not because God asked me to, but because I volunteered. I add things to my plate. I say yes quickly. I move from one task to the next with efficiency, but very little margin. Psalm 62:5–6 gently interrupts that pattern when it says my soul can find rest in God, not in outcomes, not in productivity, not in getting through the day, but in Him alone.
This is not a call to stop doing. It is an invitation to stop leaning on the wrong things.
Functioning Is Not the Same as Resting
I function well. I get through the day. I check things off lists. I handle responsibilities. But resting poorly has become my norm. Survival mode is efficient, but it is not nourishing. Somewhere along the way, I turned into a human doing instead of a human being.
When I say I want rest, I am not craving escape. I am craving enjoyment. I want to enjoy being without watching the clock or mentally preparing for the next responsibility. There is a difference between rest and numbing. Numbing still carries an underlying anxiety. Rest allows me to stay present without rushing ahead.
Psalm 62 does not say to wait until rest arrives. It says to let the soul find rest. That implies intention. That implies choice. Ecclesiastes reminds us that God has made everything beautiful in its time, even when we cannot see the full picture yet. That includes seasons where nothing changes externally, but something settles internally.
Writer Pico Iyer reminds us, “There is a huge difference between being busy and being full.” That difference becomes clear when my days are packed, but my soul feels crowded.
Where Hope Has Been Leaning Too Hard
When I am tired, my hope tends to attach itself to outcomes. A good result. A better decision. A relationship that finally takes shape. I notice this most in the area of relationships, where I quietly hope something meaningful will unfold, even when nothing seems to be moving. I trust God with my present, but I struggle to trust Him with the timing and shape of my future.
That is where Psalm 62 gently corrects me. My hope is meant to rest in God Himself, not in what I want Him to produce. Hebrews 4:9 reminds me that there remains a rest for the people of God, not a rest that is earned by effort, but one that is entered through trust.
I have been strong in ways God never asked me to be strong. Strong in managing expectations. Strong in carrying daily weight alone. Strong in preparing for what might happen next year instead of staying grounded in today. Strength can quietly turn into strain when it is disconnected from trust.
As theologian Dallas Willard wrote, “Hurry is the great enemy of spiritual life in our day.” When I rush internally, even while appearing calm externally, my soul pays the price.
Soul Insights
1. Strength is not the same as support.
Just because I can carry something does not mean I was meant to carry it alone. Psalm 62 reminds me that God is not impressed by my endurance; He is offering Himself as my foundation. When I keep choosing strength over support, my soul grows tired even if my schedule stays full.
2. Functioning can mask fatigue.
I can move through my day efficiently and still be depleted. Rest is not the absence of work but the presence of peace. If my evenings are filled with task completion but no delight, that is information worth paying attention to.
3. Hope drifts when the soul is tired.
When I am weary, hope slips from God to outcomes without me noticing. I start measuring peace by results instead of presence. Psalm 62 gently re-centers my hope back where it belongs.
4. Rest requires intention, not permission from circumstances.
My soul will not accidentally find rest. It needs protected space and deliberate care. Whether that looks like a walk, reading, or simply doing less on purpose, rest must be chosen.
5. God often communicates safety through people.
Lately, safety has shown up through good friends and faithful community. Being surrounded by people who know me and see me is one way God reminds me that I am held, even when some questions remain unanswered.
Self-Assessment Questions
1. Where have I been functioning well but resting poorly?
2. What outcomes am I quietly attaching my hope to right now?
3. What would intentional rest look like in this season, not someday later?
Final Thoughts
If my soul could speak one honest sentence to God right now, it would be this: help me to thrive. Not just to manage, not just to endure, but to live with fullness and trust. Psalm 62 does not scold me for being tired. It invites me to set the weight down and lean differently.
Comfort reminds me that God sees how much I have been carrying. Gentle correction reminds me that I do not have to keep carrying it this way.
Your Turn
As you move into this week, choose one small act of intentional rest and treat it as necessary, not optional. Let your soul practice leaning where it was always meant to lean.
By the way…
While you’re here, I’d love for you to explore my book 17 Syllables of Me and visit my website, SoulPath Insights.

Thank you for taking the time to read! 🤗
© 2025 Amelie Chambord

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