There comes a point in every believer’s walk when the heart sighs and simply says, “Lord, I’m tired.” Not tired of loving Him, not tired of believing, but tired of the battle. Tired of seeing wickedness parade as good. Tired of watching hearts grow cold. Tired of waiting for justice when the world keeps shouting that darkness wins.
The Word never hides that kind of weariness. In Isaiah 40:29–31, the prophet reminds us that “He gives power to the faint, and to them that have no might He increases strength.” The Hebrew word for weary there is יָעֵף (ya‘ēf), meaning exhausted to the point of collapse. It’s not laziness. It’s the weariness that comes after you’ve poured out everything you have. The word for strength is כֹּחַ (kōach), meaning not just physical energy, but the vital force of life itself. It’s the spark that YHWH Himself breathed into Adam. So when Isaiah says He “increases strength,” it literally means God rekindles the divine spark inside His people.
Sometimes we confuse faith with constant motion. But Matthew 11:28–30 is not a call to keep running, it’s a call to rest in Him. Yeshua said, “Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” The Greek for labor is κοπιάω (kopiaō), meaning to toil until utterly spent. And rest, ἀνάπαυσις (anapausis), isn’t a nap. It’s the stillness that comes from being restored in soul and spirit. It’s a divine reset that only He can give.
It’s easy to think of rest as weakness, but Yeshua never said, “Push harder.” He said, “Abide.” The eagles Isaiah spoke of don’t flap harder to rise above the storm. They open their wings and let the wind carry them higher. That’s what it means to wait upon the Lord. In Hebrew, wait, קָוָה (qāvāh), means to entwine, to braid together. To “wait on YHWH” means to be so intertwined with Him that your strength becomes one with His.
Paul wrote in 2 Corinthians 4:16–18, “Though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day.” That renewal is the same miracle Isaiah promised, the strength that defies aging, disappointment, and despair. It’s not youthfulness of body, but of spirit. It’s the quiet power that grows in those who refuse to let go of their faith.
And for those who have walked with God a long time, weariness often looks different. It’s not rebellion. It’s the ache of waiting for home. David felt that too. In Psalm 73, he confessed that his feet had nearly slipped when he saw the wicked prosper. But when he entered the sanctuary, everything made sense again. That’s what we need now… to bring our weariness into His presence. To let Him remind us that this world’s victories are temporary, but His promises are eternal.
Even the churches in Revelation were praised for endurance. In Revelation 2:3, Messiah said, “You have persevered and have patience, and for My name’s sake have labored and have not become weary.” Notice He didn’t scold them for feeling tired, He honored them for not giving up.
So when we whisper, “Lord, I’m tired,” it’s not failure, it’s prayer. It’s honesty before the One who already knows. And He doesn’t answer with condemnation; He answers with Himself. The same hands that formed the stars still reach to strengthen His people.
If your heart is weary tonight, don’t fight it alone. Tell Him. Rest in Him. Breathe in His Word. Let the Ruach (Spirit) remind you that your race isn’t over yet, and your steps are still precious to Him.
You might be tired, but you are not abandoned. And even when your strength runs out, His never will.
“But those who wait upon YHWH shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.” (Isaiah 40:31)
And that’s the beauty of His promise. Weariness may visit, but it doesn’t get to stay. Every burden, every tear, every sleepless night is seen by the One who never slumbers. When the body grows frail and the mind grows slow, the spirit inside you still burns with the light He placed there before time began. You are not forgotten. You are not finished. You are being refined for glory.
YHWH has a way of turning exhaustion into intimacy. When strength fails, dependence deepens. When we can’t lift our heads, His hand does. When our words fall silent, His Spirit intercedes with groanings too deep for words (Romans 8:26). Even the smallest whisper “Help me, Lord”, becomes a song in His ears.
So if today you find yourself saying, “Lord, I’m tired,” don’t hide it. Say it aloud. Let it rise like incense. Because it’s not a confession of defeat, it’s a declaration of trust. You’re telling Him, “I’ve come to the end of me, but I know You’re enough.”
Rest isn’t giving up. It’s giving in, to His peace, His timing, His love. It’s allowing the Shepherd to make you lie down in green pastures, to restore your soul (Psalm 23:2–3).
And one day soon, when this world finally fades into the brilliance of His kingdom, every weary saint will hear the sweetest words ever spoken: “Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your Lord.” (Matthew 25:23)
That’s the end of weariness. That’s the beginning of forever rest.
Until then, lift your eyes again. Even tired wings can catch the wind of His Spirit. You’re not just surviving, you’re waiting on YHWH, and He will renew your strength.
That is His promise. And He has never broken one yet.
image by my chatgpt at my direction