
Before I decide how fast I will move this year, I need to be honest about what I was running on last year.
Not intentions.
Not goals.
Fuel.
I learned the hard way that you can look disciplined, productive, and committed while quietly running on empty. You can keep moving long after your body has started asking you to stop. January 3 is not about correcting that yet. It is about noticing it.
Where I Actually Ran Dry
I ran dry physically first because I was pushing my boundaries and pushing my body to its limit. The exhaustion did not arrive suddenly. It built slowly, layered week by week, masked by getting things done. By the time I noticed it, my mind and spirit were already trailing behind my body.
Scripture tells us, “Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit?” (1 Corinthians 6:19). That verse is not a warning. It is an invitation to pay attention. I missed early signals because I believed pushing through was a form of faithfulness.
Poet David Whyte once wrote, “The antidote to exhaustion is not rest, but wholeheartedness.” My days were full, but they were not always nourishing. I was present for the tasks, but not always fully alive within them.
False Fuel That Looked Like Strength
Instead of refueling, I relied on myself to complete tasks. Checklists became substitutes for care. Discipline replaced discernment. Productivity became proof that I was okay, even when I was not.
What looked like strength was actually depletion. Getting things done gave me momentum, but not renewal. Psalm 127 reminds us, “Unless the Lord builds the house, the builders labor in vain” (Psalm 127:1). I was building, but I was also carrying the weight alone.
Spiritual writer Henri Nouwen once said, “We are not human doings. We are human beings.” I forgot that distinction more often than I realized.
Soul Insights
1. Physical depletion is often the first warning sign.
My body noticed long before my mind wanted to acknowledge it. Fatigue showed up in small ways, then louder ones. Ignoring those signals did not make me stronger. It made everything else harder.
2. Productivity can become a coping mechanism.
Checking things off felt reassuring. It created the illusion of control and stability. But it did not restore what was being drained underneath.
3. Self-reliance is not the same as strength.
Relying only on myself kept me moving but not grounded. Strength rooted in faith allows room for rest, prayer, and support. Doing everything alone slowly disconnects me from all three.
4. The things that refueled me were known but unprotected.
Time, prayer, rest, creativity, and silence consistently restored me. I did not lack knowledge. I lacked protection around those practices. What is not protected eventually gets crowded out.
5. Rest changes how I listen.
When I am rested, I hear more clearly and respond more calmly. Isaiah reminds us, “In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength” (Isaiah 30:15). Rest is not passive. It is formative.
Final Thoughts
This year, I want my first fuel to be rest, prayer, silence, and creativity. Not as rewards for finishing everything, but as the starting point. I am learning that how I begin determines how I sustain.
I do not need more discipline.
I need better fuel.
Your Turn
Pause today and ask yourself honestly:
What have you been running on lately?
Is it sustaining you, or just keeping you moving?
A Gentle Invitation
If this season of reflection resonates, my book 17 Syllables of Me was written from the same posture.
Each poem is a small pause. Seventeen syllables shaped by lived experience, faith, longing, and becoming. This is not a book meant to be rushed or analyzed. It is meant to be opened slowly, revisited often, and held alongside your own reflections.
For readers who are learning to listen more closely to their inner life, these pages offer space to breathe, notice, and name what is true. Sometimes clarity does not arrive in paragraphs. Sometimes it arrives in a few honest lines that stay with you longer than expected.

For more reflections, please visit SoulPath Insights.
© 2026 Amelie Chambord

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