Let’s be real: a lot of us love God with everything we have… but we’re still suffocating in our own lives. We still struggle to feel free.
Not free like “I’m smiling.” Free like my soul can breathe.
And I’m not talking about being the first one to shout “Amen” in the sanctuary… but also being the first one to break down the second you’re alone in your car.
If you’re honest, you’ve asked this quietly before:
“Why do I feel stuck in patterns I’ve fasted and prayed about?”
Here’s the truth we don’t talk about enough: you can be a woman of deep faith and still feel like a prisoner.
Not to “sin” in the way people judge from the pulpit—but to old survival patterns that learned how to live in you.
These patterns weren’t “bad.” At one point, they were your armor. They were the reason you made it through.
But now? The war is over… and you’re still wearing fifty pounds of steel, wondering why you’re too tired to walk into your calling.
We call it “strength.” God calls it a burden.
And we’ve been conditioned to think these things are spiritual “fruits,” when a lot of them are really just reflexes.
Patterns like:
- Overexplaining your “no” – Thinking you owe everybody a three-paragraph essay just to say no.
- Carrying everybody’s emotional weight – Acting like you’ve got it all together because you’re terrified of what happens if you actually need support.
- Choked peace – Swallowing your own truth just so the room stays quiet.
- The empty pour – Serving the church, the job, and the family until there’s literally nothing left for you.
- The guilt trip – Feeling guilty for simply wanting rest.
- The performance – Acting like you’ve got it all together because you’re terrified of what happens if you actually need support.
And to the Black men reading this: this isn’t a blame post. It’s a window. It’s an invitation to see the weight the women in your life have been carrying—sometimes because they felt they had to, and sometimes because nobody offered to pick it up. This is an invitation for all of us to build healthier support at home and in community.
Sometimes the battle isn’t that you don’t love God.
Sometimes the battle is that you’ve been carrying life in a way God never asked you to.
My real turning point wasn’t loud. It was honest.
I gave my life to Christ at 19, and it truly changed me.
But I learned later that salvation can be a moment… and becoming is a whole-life process. God didn’t just want my Sunday and weekly Bible study. He wanted my patterns.
The way I handled pressure (by snapping). The way I handled conflict (by disappearing).
The way I handled my voice (by making it small so I wouldn’t be labeled “the angry Black woman”).
The way I handled rest.
The way I handled boundaries.
And for a long time, I didn’t even realize I was doing what many of us women do: I was spiritually growing… but emotionally bleeding.
I could pray. I could believe. I could serve. But I didn’t know how to receive.
I knew how to work for God and pour into others… but I didn’t know how to let Him love me without me “earning” it through exhaustion.
That’s when my AHA came:
I realized I didn’t have a faith problem. I had a permission problem. Permission to be human. Permission to be tired. Permission to just be.
Freedom isn’t a feeling. It’s a new way of living.
Freedom isn’t just a “good service” or a goosebump moment during worship.
Freedom is the terrifying second you decide to stop managing everybody’s comfort at the expense of your own soul… and your life starts to look like what you say you believe.
Freedom is when:
- You stop calling people-pleasing “love” (it’s not).
- You stop thinking exhaustion is a requirement for obedience.
- You stop over-functioning to avoid rejection.
- You stop shrinking to keep relationships so other people don’t have to feel insecure.
- You stop thinking boundaries are disrespect.
- You stop carrying what belongs to grown adults. Let me say it in one sentence:
Freedom is when you stop managing everybody’s comfort at the expense of your own calling.
Becoming: the part we don’t romanticize
Becoming isn’t cute. It’s a holy disruption.
Becoming is when God starts touching the places you learned to protect forever. Becoming is when He asks you to forgive… and also teaches you boundaries.
Becoming is when He heals you—then teaches you how to live healed. Because healing isn’t just what happens in prayer.
Healing shows up in:
- the boundary you keep
- the conversation you finally have
- the help you finally accept
- the decision to stop proving you’re enough
A Harriet Tubman kind of faith
When I think about faith and freedom, I think about Harriet Tubman.
Not as a motivational quote—but as a picture of what faith looks like when it moves. She didn’t just hope for freedom. She walked it out.
And here’s the thing about Harriet: she didn’t just leave the plantation. She refused to let the plantation live inside her head.
The hardest part wasn’t only the miles—
it was the people who wanted to turn back because slavery was familiar. That’s the part that matters for us:
Freedom isn’t just leaving a place. Freedom is refusing to return mentally. That’s becoming.
Becoming is having the courage to keep walking even when your own community prefers the “bound” version of you.
Let’s get practical
We’re not doing fluff here. If you want to change the pattern, try this:
The Question:
“God, where am I performing because I’m scared of being rejected?”
The Name:
Name your most common pattern: people-pleasing, over-giving, silence, control, avoidance. Stop calling it “being helpful.” If it’s draining your life, call it fear.
The Act: Do something this week that feels “wrong” but makes you free. Ask for help before you hit the wall. Say “I can’t do that” without a paragraph. Leave the dishes in the sink for ONE night (I could never do this until recently… lol).
The Truth: Replace the old script.
Old: “If I don’t carry it, it won’t get done.”
Truth: “God is my source. I’m not the source for everyone.”
Old: “If I set a boundary, I’m being difficult.”
Truth: “Boundaries are not betrayal. They’re stewardship.”
Reflection
If you truly believed God’s love doesn’t have to be earned… what would you stop doing today? What would you stop proving?
Who might you become if you weren’t so afraid of being misunderstood?
Closing
Some of us don’t need a new prayer. We need a new pattern.
Faith isn’t about surviving another week of burnout. Faith is about becoming free enough to live the life God actually gave you… not the one you’re performing for everyone else.
And if you’re in that in-between space where you love God, but you’re tired of repeating the same cycle, please hear me again: You’re not behind. You’re being invited into freedom. And that invitation is priceless.
Keep walking. It’s your next chapter.
Next Week: I conclude the Black History Month series with “Rest Isn’t Laziness: Black Women and the Permission to Receive.
