Letting go of the weight we’ve learned to carry

“What are you still carrying that you were never meant to carry?”

For a long time I didn’t realize how much I was carrying.

Not because I was weak, or broken, or incapable—but because some burdens become so familiar they start to feel like a part of who we are. Self doubt. Shame. Questioning our worth. People pleasing. We learn to survive instead of confront. These things don’t always come loudly; sometimes they move in quietly and stay for years.

“Cast your burdens on the Lord, and He will sustain you; He will never permit the righteous be moved.”

—Psalm 55:22

And yet, even knowing this, letting go isn’t easy.

Letting go isn’t a single moment of release—it’s a process. One that often asks us to revisit things we thought we had already “handled.” Healing doesn’t happen once and for all. It unfolds in layers, seasons, and sometimes in circles. And that doesn’t mean we’re failing, it means we’re human.

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”

—Psalm 147:3

There were times I believed healing meant never struggling again. Never doubting. Never feeling the ache of old wounds. But I’ve learned healing is less about erasing the past and more about loosening its grip. It’s about recognizing when someone no longer serves us—and choosing, again and again, to set it down.

Letting go requires honesty. It asks us to admit what has been weighing us down and why we’ve held onto it for so long. Sometimes we cling to burdens because they are familiar. Sometimes they’ve shaped us. Sometimes because we don’t know who we are without them.

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

—Matthew 11:28

Growth begins when we trust that God can hold what we were never meant to carry alone.

Grace meets us in the release. Not after we’ve figured it all out. Not once were “healed enough.” Grace meets us right in the middle—in the uncertainty, the unlearning, the slow forward steps.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

—2 Corinthians 12:9

Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting. It means choosing freedom over familiarity. It means allowing God to replace heaviness with hope, shame with truth, and fear with peace—over time.

“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing.”

—Isaiah 43:18-19

And maybe that’s what growing in grace looks like: not arriving, but continuing. Continuing to surrender. Continuing to heal. Continuing to move forward—lighter than before.

—Wendy