The Version of You That’s Tired Is Still Worthy

Whew. I’m tired.

Not just “I need a nap” tired - I mean tired in my bones.
Tired of pushing.
Tired of showing up when I don’t feel like it.
Tired of being the one everyone can count on.
Tired of holding it together when things feel like they’re slowly falling apart.

But I’m still out here.
Still answering texts.
Still getting dinner on the table.
Still showing up to work, to life, to church, with a smile and just enough energy to make it look like I’m okay.

Even when I’m not.

And honestly? I’ve been wondering something.

Does this version of me - the tired one - still matter?
Like… if I’m not “on,” if I’m not strong, if I’m not leading or fixing or doing the most…
Do I still deserve rest?
Do I still deserve love?
Do I still deserve to be seen?

You’re not less valuable just because you’re running on empty.

There’s this pressure we don’t talk about enough.

It’s the idea that you have to earn rest.
That you’re only worthy when you’re producing something.
That tired equals lazy.
That slowing down means you’re falling behind.
That if you’re not pouring into everyone else, you’re somehow not doing your part.

And if you’ve ever thought that way  - I get it.
I’ve lived there too.
Especially when you’re “the strong one.”

You carry so much.
People depend on you.
And somewhere along the way, you started believing your value is tied to how much you can handle without breaking.

But girl… that’s a lie.
A heavy one.
And it’s breaking your back in ways no one can see.

Rest isn’t a reward — it’s a right.

Let me gently remind you of something real:

You’re still worthy. Even when you’re worn out.
Even when you don’t have a fresh word, or a big idea, or the capacity to keep going at the same pace.

Your value didn’t disappear just because your energy did.

God isn’t waiting on you to get it together.
He’s not disappointed that you’re tired.

In fact -  He sees it.
He feels it.
He knows exactly how much you’ve been carrying.

“The Lord is like a father to his children, tender and compassionate… He remembers we are only dust.” -  Psalm 103:13–14

That verse undoes me every time.
Because it means He gets it.
He knows you’re human.
And He’s not asking you to be anything else.

So can we let go of the pressure for a second?
Here’s what I want to offer you - not advice, not a fix -  just a few truths to hold onto:

• Tired doesn’t mean unworthy.
  It means you’ve been giving. It means you’re human. It means you’ve been showing up in a world that asks for a lot. You’re allowed to rest. You don’t have to apologize for needing it.
  
  

• You’re not failing just because you need a break.
  You're not behind. You’re not slacking. You’re being honest about your limits - and that’s not weakness. That’s wisdom.
  
  

• Rest is sacred too.
  You don’t have to hustle to be holy. Sometimes the holiest thing you can do is stop. Be still. Let God be God while you breathe.
  

God still calls you worthy, even on your quietest days.

So if you’re in that place right now - the worn out,
stretched thin, I-don’t-even-know-what-I-need place -
I just want you to know this:

You’re still loved.
Still chosen.
Still held.
Even here.

Even when your voice is tired.
Even when your faith feels quiet.
Even when you’re doing less, not more.

You don’t have to earn peace.
You don’t have to perform your way back to worthiness.
You already have it.
Right now.
Exactly as you are.

And if you’re craving a soft place to land - something just for you - the Meet Me in the Middle journal might be that thing.

It’s not a to-do list.
It’s not another “fix yourself” tool.
It’s space.
Just space to be honest, to breathe, and to remember you’re not alone in the messy middle.

Because tired or not, sister -
You are still worthy.
Still a Rooted Woman.

With you in this,

Deanna

Always -  Rooted Woman