“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
Reflection
There’s a quiet kind of weariness that doesn’t come from lack of sleep or long hours—it comes from the weight of never feeling like you’ve done enough. Maybe you know that feeling. You work hard, pour your heart into your craft, and still feel like your accomplishments pale in comparison to everyone else’s.
I dropped out of college at 19 to start my career. I spent months building the portfolio that would eventually land me an apprenticeship at my dream tattoo studio. I knew I was a good artist—but suddenly I was surrounded by the best. It didn’t take long for comparison to creep in. No matter how hard I worked, I felt like I was still behind.
Since childhood, I’ve carried that ache. I remember sitting at the kitchen table with crayons, drawing for hours. But I was never satisfied. I’d erase, re-sketch, add more color—always trying to get it just right. My grandmother would gently take the paper from me and say, “It’s beautiful just like this.” She knew I’d keep going until I ruined it. Back then, I thought I was just doing my best. But really, I was trying to earn worth through perfection.
Even now, I catch myself comparing my journey to others—those who went to art school, who own fancy gear, who seem to get nonstop praise online from artists I admire. Social media doesn’t help. My timeline is full of top-tier work from some of the best in the world. And the lie creeps in: “You’re not enough. You’re not working hard enough. You’re wasting your potential.”
But that voice isn’t coming from God. The world might demand perfection, but the divine cares more about growth and faithfulness. It’s not about how many hours you log or how polished the final product looks. What matters is the heart behind the work. Just showing up—even when it’s messy—means something.
During my apprenticeship, I gave everything. I skipped parties, holidays, even worked on my 21st birthday. I thought all I wanted was to be the best. I finally got my license… and felt no different. But one rainy morning, on my hour-and-a-half commute, everything changed. I hit a deer, lost control, and flipped my car three times. I crashed through a guardrail, hit a tree, and landed upside down as the car caught fire. I didn’t think about my work or portfolio. I just prayed, “Please God, let me see my little sister again.”
By all accounts, I should’ve died. I fractured my wrist, had a concussion, but walked away. I couldn’t tattoo or drive for months—but in the end, that turned out to be a blessing. I found a local studio with better hours, and eventually started going to church with my grandparents. That brings me more peace and happiness than any kind of career perfection ever could.
God didn’t create us just to be the hardest workers or to make the most money. You may feel at times like God isn’t giving you what you want, even if you think you’ve earned it. But maybe, instead, space is being cleared for something deeper, something more lasting, something more alive. Despite your best intentions, you might be too focused on the details to see the big picture.
by Ali Clark
For Pondering and Prayer
Maybe today, God is asking you to put the brush down, to step back from the canvas, and breathe — to trust that the process is holy, even if the picture feels unfinished. Remember that God has given you a beautiful life and people who love you — and that is enough.
Prayer: Creator, when I feel like I’m not enough, remind me that love isn’t earned—it’s given. Help me let go of perfection, to trust the process, and to find peace in the quiet places. Thank You for the life I’ve been given, for the people in it, and for the grace that meets me exactly where I am. Teach me to rest in that. Amen.
