faith unfaded

I came home from traveling bone-tired. The kind of tired where you can’t tell if it’s just too many miles on the road or something deeper. I even wondered, Is this a true illness or a spiritual attack? It’s a question I’ve asked myself often, especially when I set aside a week for book writing.

Today, my doctor gave me a relatively clean bill of health. That shifted the lens for me: what I was feeling wasn’t sickness to surrender to or an infection that needed self-care. It was time to fight back, rebuke the attack and stand firm. Rest was good—I’ve been on the road a lot—but I’m also learning there’s a fine line between self-care and self-sabotage.

But here’s the honest part: when my body is worn down, my emotions ride closer to the surface. The little things that wouldn’t normally sting suddenly cut deep. The careless comment, the text left unanswered, the feeling that maybe I don’t matter as much as I thought—all of it feels magnified.

Little girl reunited with her teddy bear in a fast food commercial? Cue the waterworks. I’ve found myself crying all week over the silliest things.

Scientifically, it makes sense. Feeling sick strips away your usual armor—you’re tired, your body’s run down, and your emotions sit closer to the surface. What might usually make you misty-eyed can suddenly tip you into full-on tears. It’s like your emotional “guardrails” are temporarily lowered, but the tears are more release than weakness.

That’s been me this week. I’ve gotten my feelings hurt more than usual, but I’ve learned that this is a pattern worth guarding against. Recognizing the pattern has been half the battle. Changing my response has been the other half.

And this is where faith meets real life. It’s not about ignoring the tears or pretending I’m tougher than I am. It’s about remembering that my worth isn’t measured by someone else’s words, silence, or attention. It’s about stepping back and saying, “Okay, my body’s worn down, my heart feels raw—but my God is still steady. And He will steady me.”

It’s also about recognizing the attack. Satan will do anything to distract you when there’s a task at hand. If my mind is on emotional hurt or physical pain, it can’t concentrate on sharing God’s words.

So here’s my takeaway: when exhaustion makes everything feel heavier, take a breath. Pause. Don’t react. Step back without isolating. Care for your body. Guard your heart. And let God remind you—your foundation is secure, even when your strength feels shaky.

Psalm 73:26: My flesh and my heart faileth: but God is the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever.