What do you do when the thing you once loved begins to feel impossible to maintain?
For me, Lacey, my garden is too big for my current capacity. There are too many weeds, too many unfinished projects, too many ideas waiting to be brought to life. But the Texas heat is relentless, and my stamina is limited.
For a while, I thought about giving up completely. I wanted a perfect garden — every flower bed tidy, every angle beautiful, every weed under control. But no matter how hard I pushed myself, I couldn’t make it happen.
Eventually, I felt the Lord asking me a question: “Are you willing to make peace with an imperfect garden, or will you abandon it entirely because it cannot be perfect?”
That question exposed something deeper in me.
I realized I had spent much of my life believing my value came from striving harder, working longer, and pushing through my limits. Slowing down felt like failure. In our culture, “settling” can sound like laziness or weakness. Spiritually, it can even feel unfaithful.
But maybe surrender and failure are not the same thing.
Chronic illness has forced me to confront my limitations. At first, I fought against them. I spent years trying to fix myself so I could get back to achieving, producing, and proving my worth.
But my body would no longer cooperate. Pain made me stop. Fatigue made me rest.
And slowly, I began to see that my body was not my enemy. It was asking me to listen.
Now, when I look at the weeds in my flower beds, the scattered buckets, and the plants still waiting to be planted, I no longer just see unfinished work. I see evidence that life is still growing, even in the middle of disorder.
Some days, faith looks less like pushing harder and more like trusting God enough to rest. Some days, obedience looks like stopping before my body crashes. Some days, worship looks like sitting in the shade, listening to birds in the mulberry tree, and believing I am still loved even when nothing productive is happening.
Jesus never asked us to earn His love through exhaustion. He asked us to come to Him with our burdens.
Maybe grace is not found in finally becoming enough. Maybe it is found in admitting we never were.
So what imperfect thing in your life are you struggling to make peace with — and what would happen if you stopped trying to control it long enough to let God meet you there?
With love and hope,
Lacey Steel
