Dear Members,
As you settle into the new year—with new goals or old ones renewed, calendars beginning to fill,
plans taking shape—have you already started to feel it? That familiar tiredness creeping in. A
low hum of anxiety you can’t get over. The year has barely begun, and yet something in you
already feels weary.
You’re not alone. And you’re not imagining it. I’ve felt it too—that sense of starting a new year
already running on empty, wondering how I’ll sustain the pace.
We live in a world that celebrates busyness, and most of us have simply accepted exhaustion as
the price of a full life. But here’s a question worth sitting with: what if the real problem isn’t our
schedules—but our hearts?
Its’s Not Just Your Body That’s Tired
We often treat weariness as a logistical issue. “I just need to catch up on sleep.” “Once this
season passes, I’ll rest.” “A holiday will sort me out.” But if you’re honest, you’ve probably
noticed that even after time off, the tiredness returns surprisingly quickly. That’s because the
exhaustion we carry isn’t only physical. It lives somewhere deeper. It lives in our souls.
And here’s the thing: a tired body will slow you down, but a tired heart will lead you astray.
Weary hearts make poor decisions. They snap at loved ones. They reach for comfort in the
wrong places. They quietly give up on things that matter. A weary body needs sleep. A weary
heart needs something else entirely.
What’s Really Going On?
Identifying the true cause matters because it determines the cure. When we examine our restless
hearts honestly, we often find three culprits hiding beneath the surface:
Our anxieties reveal a lack of trust—we’re not sure God will come through. Our constant striving
reveals a stubborn independence—we struggle to let go of control. Our fear of failure keeps us
performing—because deep down, we believe our worth depends on our output. These aren’t
scheduling problems. They’re heart problems. And heart problems need a different kind of
remedy.
A Surprising Prescription
Writing from a Roman prison—not exactly a restful environment—the Apostle Paul offered the
Philippians some counter-intuitive advice: “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything
by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God”
(Philippians 4:6).
Prayer. Really? It feels almost too simple, doesn’t it? In a world that rewards action, strategy, and
hustle, prayer can seem like a weak response to real pressure.
But that’s exactly why it works.
Prayer disarms us. It gently whispers to our striving souls, “Be still.” It humbles us to admit what
we hate admitting—that on our own, we simply cannot hold it all together. Prayer doesn’t always
change our circumstances overnight, but it does something perhaps more important: it turns our
eyes from the chaos around us to the God who holds all things in His hands.
When we pray, we’re reminded that yes, the world looks uncertain and even frightening at
times—but there is a God who sustains all things by the word of His power. He is not anxious.
He is not scrambling. And He invites us to bring our tangled, weary hearts to Him.
The Rest Your Heart Is Looking For
But prayer does more than calm our nerves. It redirects our loves.
Here’s the deeper truth we so easily forget: our hearts will never truly rest in anything other than
the joy of knowing our Creator. We were made for God. And until we find our rest in Him, we’ll
keep chasing peace in places that cannot give it—in achievements, in approval, in control, in the
next goal ticked off the list.
These things might offer a moment of relief. But they make terrible resting places and masters.
Augustine put it well: “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until
they rest in you.”
As a church, we are encouraging one another this month by praying and fasting together. If you
haven’t yet picked a day, this could be your opportunity to join in—to pause, to seek God, and to
let your heart find its rest in Him.
So as this new year stretches out before you, full of plans and possibilities, may I gently suggest
this: don’t just manage your calendar. Tend to your heart. Bring your anxious, independent,
quietly-fearful soul to God in prayer.
And there, in His presence, find the rest you’ve been searching for all along.
From Pst. Peter Kamau
Comments (1)
Irene - January 8, 2026
Thank-you for sharing this insightful piece