I understand Martha, but not because I have a busy schedule.

I understand her because I know what it feels like to believe that if I don’t handle it, nobody will.

For a long time, that was just how I lived.

I figured things out.

I took care of people.

I kept moving when life gave me absolutely no reason to feel strong.

I learned how to function in chaos because sometimes I didn’t have another choice.

And after enough years of living that way, being the one who handles everything starts feeling normal.

You don’t even realize how heavy it is anymore.

That’s why I hear Martha differently when she finally looks at Jesus and basically says:

Do You see me over here doing all of this by myself?

Because I understand that frustration.

There have been seasons when I’ve carried work, motherhood, marriage, finances, other people’s needs, and whatever crisis happened to show up that week—and just kept going.

Not because I was some incredibly strong woman.

Because things needed to get done.

But something has changed in me recently.

For probably the first time in my adult life, I don’t feel like I’m constantly fighting to survive.

And strangely enough, learning how to live without survival mode has required faith too.

Because when you’ve spent years being the fixer, surrender can feel uncomfortable.

When you’ve spent years preparing for the next problem, peace can almost feel unfamiliar.

And when you’ve built so much of your life around I’ve got it, trusting God enough to say You have it takes practice.

Maybe that’s why Jesus’ response to Martha feels so tender to me.

“Martha, Martha…”

He wasn’t telling her she was incapable.

He wasn’t saying everything she did was wrong.

He was reminding her that she didn’t have to carry everything just because she was capable of carrying it.

And I need that reminder.

I don’t have to anticipate every problem.

I don’t have to fix everything before it falls apart.

I don’t have to earn rest by completely exhausting myself first.

And I don’t have to prove that I can handle another hard thing.

I already know I can.

I’ve done that.

Now I’m learning something different.

I’m learning how to let God carry me.

Maybe this season isn’t about becoming stronger.

Maybe I’ve already spent enough years learning how to survive.

Maybe God is teaching me how to live from a place of peace instead.

And for a woman who has spent most of her life saying, I’ve got it…

There is something incredibly freeing about finally being able to say:

God, You’ve got me.