“I shall not die, but I shall live, and recount the deeds of the Lord.” — Psalm 118:17
This just in: life is hard.
Can we all just agree to admit this out loud together? Why are we so afraid as Christians to say, “Hey… I’m struggling. I’m hurting. Can you pray for me?” We think that unless we are soaring on wings as eagles, we have certainly failed and simply need to keep our failure to ourselves. After all, everyone else is doing great, right? Just look around. Every Sunday you ask your peers how they’re doing, and they say, “Great!” or “Fantastic!” So apparently, you are the only person with real scars from this epic battle known as “life in a fallen world.” Surely if others were struggling, they would admit it, right? Doesn’t the Word tell us to bear each other’s burdens? So certainly they aren’t hiding them. It must simply mean you’re the only one who just doesn’t have it all together.
If you’re a leader, multiply that pressure by ten. Because not only are you carrying the same personal battles as everyone else, you’re also carrying the weight of other people’s expectations, other people’s problems, and the unspoken belief that you’re supposed to have this thing figured out. Leaders are often the last ones to ask for help and the first ones to be crushed under the weight of pretending they don’t need it.
What We Do to Each Other
Do you see what we do to each other? Through our dishonesty by omission, we alienate each other. We isolate each other. We increase each other’s burdens by refusing to share them. We leave each other to suffer because we really aren’t in the mood to suffer alongside our friends. Who has time for all that, right?
But just know that in refusing to take on this yoke of life with our brothers and sisters, we leave them with an impossible load to bear. They were never meant to bear their pain, their loss, their grief, their scars in total isolation. They were meant to walk with their family of believers, receiving encouragement and love from their fellow fallen friends. And when we fail to accept that responsibility, we leave our brothers and sisters in a dangerous and lonely place they were never meant to be.
In leadership circles, this is an epidemic. I’ve watched it play out for decades. A pastor carries a crushing burden in silence because he’s afraid the church will lose confidence in him. A team leader hides her anxiety because she thinks vulnerability will be seen as weakness. A ministry leader pushes through burnout because stepping back would feel like failure. And all around them, people are doing the exact same thing, creating a room full of leaders who are all struggling and all pretending they’re not.
The culture of “I’m fine” is killing us. Not slowly. Actively.
When the Burden Becomes Too Much
It is in these dark valleys that the increased burden can simply become too much to bear. It is here where choices of life or death are made. It is here where truth hangs in the balance. After all, if life is truly nothing more than a series of unfortunate events that you will have to battle alone, why bother to battle at all? Why not give up the fight?
I want to be careful and clear here, because this is not hypothetical for some of you reading this. The weight is real. The darkness is real. And if you are in a place right now where the burden feels unbearable, please hear me: you are not alone, and giving up is not the answer. Reach out to someone today. A pastor, a counselor, a trusted friend. If you’re in crisis, call 988 (the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline). There is no shame in asking for help. In fact, it may be the bravest and most faith-filled thing you do today.
What you may not realize is that for those walking in the deep valley of shadows, a simple choice like “I shall live” is made each and every morning. Each footstep is made by faith. A choice is made to say…
“This is the day the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it.” — Psalm 118:24
Maybe your words look like this: “Every breath is taken in hope that maybe today, please Lord, today, someone will take this impossible yoke I bear upon my shoulders and walk with me. Perhaps today someone will be brave enough to admit that they stumble too, and that Christian perfection is nothing more than a mere mirage. Maybe someone will be willing to make time in their busy schedules to bring me a word of encouragement. Perhaps today, Lord. Perhaps today I shall live.”
If that’s your prayer right now, God hears you. And He often answers that prayer through people. Which means the rest of us have a responsibility we can’t afford to ignore.
Carrying the Wounded
Only when we can give the love of Jesus to each other, stretching out hands of grace and mercy, can we bring our hurting brothers and sisters to speak, “…and I shall recount the deeds of the Lord.”
Remember, it is terribly difficult to see in the darkness. When hurt and pain surround you, when the unfortunate events of a fallen world envelop you, when it hurts to take each step, it’s an effort to open your eyes to the deeds of the Lord. It’s in these times you need those merciful acts of Jesus to be seen fleshed out in others, as a reminder that there is a good and loving God in the midst of the valley.
When we as fellow soldiers can carry our wounded, they can see God’s grace and mercy flowing to them in a real and tangible way. It’s something they can write down on their list of marvelous deeds of the Lord. They have a victory to recount. They have joy to recount.
But again, as we fail to fulfill our family roles to the broken, we leave them in dark isolation, where it becomes terribly easy to simply recount the deeds of the enemy and the failures of flesh.
For leaders, this is both a personal need and a leadership responsibility. You need people who will carry you. And you are called to carry others. Both of those are true at the same time, and neither one works if everyone keeps pretending they’re fine.
The Leader’s Role in Burden-Bearing
I’ve come to believe that one of the most important things a leader can do is go first in honesty. Not oversharing. Not dumping your problems on your team in a way that shifts the burden to them. But being willing to say, in the right context with the right people, “This season has been hard. I’m trusting God, but I could use your prayers.”
When a leader does that, it gives everyone else permission to exhale. It breaks the cycle of pretending. It creates a culture where people can actually bear each other’s burdens because the burdens are actually visible.
That’s what it looks like to be a reliable messenger in this area. You carry the truth that life is hard and God is faithful, and you deliver both of those realities honestly. Not just the triumphant part. Not just the polished testimony. The whole truth. That’s what makes your message trustworthy, because people can see that it’s been tested in real life and it held.
The leaders who build the deepest trust and the healthiest cultures are the ones who created environments where it’s safe to not be okay. Where “how are you doing?” is an actual question and not a greeting. Where bearing one another’s burdens isn’t a verse on the wall but a practice in the room.
Next Steps for the Leader Who Wants to Bear Burdens Well
Stop saying “I’m fine” when you’re not. You don’t have to share everything with everyone. But you do need at least two or three people in your life who get the real answer. If you don’t have those people, finding them is your most urgent next step. Not next month. This week.
Check on someone without an agenda. Think of one person in your sphere of influence who has been quieter than usual, who’s seemed a little off, or who you know is walking through a hard season. Reach out to them this week. Not with advice. Not with a quick “praying for you” text. Call them. Sit with them. Ask them how they’re really doing and be prepared to just listen. Sometimes the most powerful thing a leader can do is simply show up and stay.
Audit the culture you’ve created. Is your team, your church, your organization a place where people feel safe to be honest about their struggles? Or have you unintentionally built a culture of performance where everyone knows the “right” answer is “I’m great”? If people around you are hiding their burdens, ask yourself whether the environment you’ve created has made it safe to share them.
Remember your own valley. You’ve been in the dark place before. You know what it feels like to carry more than you can handle. Let that memory fuel your compassion for the person who’s there right now. Don’t let success or distance from your own pain make you forget what it was like when you needed someone to walk with you.
Invest before the crisis. Don’t wait until someone is at the breaking point to show up. Invest in relationships consistently, so that when the hard season comes, there’s already an account to draw from. The people who were there for you in your darkest hour weren’t strangers. They were people who had already invested in knowing you. Do the same for others now, so that when the valley comes, and it will, they have someone to lean on.
In short, we need each other. We need to extend mercy, grace, and love to the broken. We need to remember our own time in the valley. And just as there is indeed a season for all things in this life, everyone will at some point find themselves in need.
Will others be able to recount the goodness you extended to them? Will you have an account you’ve invested in from which you may be able to withdraw in your darkest hour?
Take time to invest in your family, both near and far. Reach out and love them, so they may say:
“I shall not die… but I shall live… and recount the deeds of the Lord.”