You know the moment. You pull into the driveway after work, turn the engine off, and you don’t get out.
You just sit there. The kitchen light is on through the window, and you love the people on the other side of that door. You’d die for them. But right now, you need one more minute before you walk in and become everything everybody needs you to be.
You’re not running from God. You go to church. You pray. You’re doing the right things. You’re strong. You’re saved.
And you’re exhausted.
TIRED IS NOT THE SAME AS FAITHLESS
A lot of Christian men carry a quiet guilt about being tired. Somewhere along the way we picked up the idea that if we were really walking with God, we wouldn’t feel this way. So on top of being exhausted, we feel ashamed of it, and we hide it.
But some of the most faithful men in Scripture hit the wall. Moses told God, “Kill me at once.” David wrote, “Every night I flood my bed with tears.” Elijah sat under a tree and asked God to take his life. These weren’t weak men. They were men carrying more than one man was built to carry.
Let me tell you about a man I’ll call Dave. His story is one I’ve heard, in one form or another, from more men than I can count. Dave runs a small business, serves as a deacon, coaches his son’s baseball team, and is the guy everybody calls when something breaks. Last spring he started waking at 3 a.m. every night, his mind already running. One evening he sat in his truck in the driveway for forty minutes until his daughter knocked on the window and asked if he was okay. Two weeks later he was in the ER with chest pains. It wasn’t his heart. His body was saying what his mouth wouldn’t.
Then Dave told me, “I’m the guy everybody calls. I just realized I don’t have anybody to call.”
Dave isn’t alone. A Movember survey of fathers found that among dads without close friends, 40 percent felt isolated, and 40 percent said no one was looking out for them.
THE FOUR WEIGHTS MEN CARRY
In my years of sitting with men, four weights come up again and again. Most of us are carrying at least two.
- Carrying everyone. You’re the provider, the protector, the fixer. When Moses tried to judge every dispute in Israel, his father-in-law Jethro said, “What you are doing is not good… the thing is too heavy for you. You are not able to do it alone” (Exodus 18:17–18). That wasn’t an insult. It was a diagnosis. Jethro didn’t tell Moses to quit leading. He told him to share the load.
- Carrying it alone. The Survey Center on American Life found that 15 percent of American men have no close friends, a fivefold increase since 1990. We have more ways to connect than any generation in history, and fewer friends than ever. Galatians 6:2 says, “Bear one another’s burdens.” Not your own burdens. One another’s.
- Carrying the mask. Somebody asks how you’re doing and you say, “Good, man.” Every day you spend performing strength costs you twice: once to carry the weight, and once to hide it. David wrote, “When I kept silent, my bones wasted away” (Psalm 32:3). Silence isn’t strength. It’s a slow leak.
- Carrying it without rest. Most men stop moving, but we don’t rest. We scroll, check email on vacation, and lie awake with our minds racing. Psalm 127:2 calls it “eating the bread of anxious toil” and says God “gives to his beloved sleep.” When Jesus’ disciples came back worn out, He told them, “Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while” (Mark 6:31).
WHAT GOD DID FOR AN EXHAUSTED MAN
Elijah called down fire from heaven on Mount Carmel. One chapter later, he was under a broom tree saying, “It is enough.”
God didn’t lecture him. No sermon, no rebuke. Elijah slept. An angel brought him bread and water. He slept again. Then the angel said, “Arise and eat, for the journey is too great for you” (1 Kings 19:7).
Only after Elijah rested did God speak, in a low whisper. And then God gave him a companion, Elisha, to walk beside him.
Rest. Food. God’s voice. A brother. That’s God’s recovery plan for an exhausted man, and it hasn’t changed.
Jesus put it this way: “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you” (Matthew 11:28–29). A yoke is built for two. Jesus isn’t telling you to stop working. He’s telling you to stop pulling alone.
If you’re in a place where you’ve told God, like Elijah, “It is enough,” please don’t sit under that tree alone. Call or text 988, talk to your pastor, or call one man today.
THREE STEPS THIS WEEK
Name the weight to one man. Call a man you trust and say, “I’m more worn out than I’ve let on. Here’s what I’m carrying.” You don’t need a solution. You need a witness.
Take a real Sabbath. One day this week, or half a day if that’s all you can manage. Phone off. No email. Sleep, eat a real meal with your family, take a walk, read a Psalm.
Hand off one thing. Take Jethro’s advice. Find one responsibility someone else can carry, hand it over, and don’t take it back.
YOUR CHALLENGE
You were never meant to carry this alone. You’re strong and you’re saved, and you’re also a man with limits God put there on purpose. Your exhaustion isn’t proof you’ve failed. It’s an invitation to come to the One who said, “I will give you rest,” and to let other men pull alongside you.
One man. One day. One thing. Start this week.
Then tell me in the YouTube comments: what’s the one thing you’re carrying that nobody knows about? You don’t have to give details. Just name it.
Watch and listen: True Man Podcast on YouTube wherever you get your podcasts.
About the author: Mike Van Pelt is Founder of American Family Renaissance and CEO and Founder of True Man Life Coaching. A men’s mentor, speaker, author, and host of the True Man Podcast, he helps Christian men break isolation, reclaim their God-given identity, and lead their families with conviction. Know God. Know Yourself. Live Fully.