The Weight No One Sees

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the things we carry the quiet weights no one sees. You know the kind I mean. The ones you hide behind a smile, the ones you don’t even talk about anymore because you’ve gotten used to holding them in.

Some of us carry childhood pain we never fully processed. Others carry wounds from broken trust, betrayal, or the ache of not being chosen. We get good at functioning with it. We show up for others. We handle our responsibilities. We even laugh. But inside, there’s a heaviness we’ve learned to hide well.

I used to think healing was about “moving on.” Push through. Be strong. Pray more. Smile anyway.

But what I’ve come to realize is this: some hurts don’t go away because we keep pretending they’re not there.

When I was writing Carrying a Hurt: From Burden to Freedom, I found myself returning again and again to one thought: we cannot heal what we keep buried. God doesn’t need our performance. He longs for our honesty. And sometimes, the most powerful prayer isn’t full of eloquent words. It’s a whispered, “Lord, I’m tired. I’m hurting. I don’t even know what to say.”

That’s where healing starts. In the honesty. In the surrender.

If you’ve been carrying something silently, grief, shame, fear, regret, please hear me when I say: you don’t have to keep doing this alone. You’re not weak for feeling it. You’re not faithless for struggling. You’re human. And God meets us in our humanity, not our perfection.

What happens if you give yourself permission to quit pretending? What if healing isn't about forgetting the suffering, but rather allowing God to walk beside you through it? I do not have all the answers. But I know this: healing is possible.

Freedom is real. And it doesn't come from pretending everything is fine; it comes from choosing to be honest, even if it is messy.

So, here's an invitation to pause. Take a breath.

And ask yourself: What am I carrying that has to be set down? I'm still on this trip, too. But believe we get stronger when we stop hiding and begin to heal.

With grace,

Let's grow lighter together,

CN