The decorations are still packed away. Thanksgiving is weeks away, and Christmas feels like there's plenty of time to prepare.
Yet somehow, the list has already started forming.
The meals, the gatherings, the gifts, and the little details we begin thinking about before anyone even asks. We start considering who might feel left out, what traditions need to continue, and how we're going to make everything come together.
Before long, we've taken on the responsibility of making sure everyone has a wonderful holiday.
The season hasn't begun, but the carrying has.
There's nothing wrong with planning ahead or wanting to make the holidays special for the people we love.
But sometimes, without realizing it, we move from preparing for the holidays to worrying about everything that could go wrong.
Will everyone be happy? Will someone feel disappointed? Am I doing enough?
And somewhere in the middle of those questions, we begin carrying responsibilities that were never entirely ours to manage.
We can prepare a meal, but we can't control everyone's mood. We can invite people into our homes, but we can't guarantee every gathering will be perfect.
Still, we try.
Sometimes what looks like thoughtful preparation on the outside is actually worry taking up more room than we realize.
I think about Martha in Luke 10:38 to 42.
When Jesus entered her village, Martha welcomed Him into her home. She wanted to serve Him, and there was nothing wrong with that desire.
Her sister Mary, however, sat at Jesus' feet and listened to His teaching.
As Martha continued preparing and serving, she became frustrated that Mary wasn't helping.
Scripture tells us:
“But Martha was distracted with much serving.” (Luke 10:40, ESV)
Martha eventually approached Jesus and asked Him to tell Mary to help her.
His response is worth paying attention to.
“Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary.” (Luke 10:41 to 42, ESV)
Jesus didn't condemn Martha for welcoming Him or wanting to serve. He addressed what was happening within her.
She had become so occupied with everything that needed to be done that she was missing the opportunity to sit in His presence and receive His teaching.
Mary had chosen to listen, and Jesus affirmed that choice.
I wonder how often we find ourselves in Martha's position.
We begin with a genuine desire to care for others, but the responsibilities keep growing. Before we know it, we're frustrated, distracted, and overwhelmed.
And sometimes, like Martha, we begin looking at what everyone else isn't doing instead of recognizing what the pressure is doing to us.
One of the hardest things to recognize is that loving people doesn't mean being responsible for everything they experience.
We can care deeply about our families without making ourselves responsible for everyone's happiness.
We can honor traditions without feeling obligated to continue every single one.
And we can ask for help without believing we've somehow failed.
For some women, that isn't easy.
Maybe you've always been the person everyone depends on. The one who remembers the details, makes the arrangements, and notices what needs to be done.
After a while, being dependable can begin to feel like being responsible for everything.
But those are not the same thing.
Sometimes we become so accustomed to carrying things that we don't even recognize how heavy they've become.
That's why Martha's story matters.
Jesus wasn't asking her to stop loving or serving. He was reminding her that being occupied with many things should not cause her to lose sight of what mattered most.
In Matthew 11:28 to 30, Jesus extends an invitation to those who are weary and burdened:
“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28, ESV)
He continues by inviting us to take His yoke upon us and learn from Him, promising rest for our souls.
Notice that Jesus doesn't say we must finish everything before coming to Him.
He invites us to come while we're weary.
That matters because sometimes we treat rest as something we can only experience after every responsibility has been handled.
After the house is clean. After the shopping is finished. After everyone is taken care of.
But Jesus offers something deeper than an empty calendar. He invites us into a relationship where we can learn from Him rather than allowing worry to direct every part of our lives.
The responsibilities may still be there. The meals may still need preparing, and the gatherings may still require planning.
But we don't have to approach those things believing everything depends on us.
We can make room for prayer, for God's Word, and for simply being present with Him.
As the holidays approach, I think it's worth considering what we want this season to look like beyond the decorations and gatherings.
What do we want the people we love to experience when they're with us?
What do we want to remember when the season is over?
Sometimes we're so focused on creating meaningful moments that we become too distracted to enjoy them.
We worry about the food, the decorations, and whether everything is going according to plan.
Meanwhile, the people we prepared everything for are right in front of us.
Maybe this year, making room for what matters means simplifying a tradition, asking someone else to help, or accepting that a gathering can be meaningful without everything being perfect.
Maybe it means setting aside a few minutes to pray before the day begins instead of immediately reaching for the list.
Or perhaps it means recognizing that someone else's disappointment doesn't automatically mean you've done something wrong.
None of this requires us to stop caring.
It simply invites us to pay attention to whether our desire to serve has become a source of constant worry.
Before the season becomes busy, consider what you've already started carrying.
Maybe it's the expectation that everyone should be happy. Maybe it's the pressure to keep every tradition going, even when you're exhausted. Or perhaps it's the belief that if something doesn't turn out perfectly, you've somehow let your family down.
Take a moment to identify one thing that's already weighing on you.
Then ask yourself:
Is this truly my responsibility, or have I taken it on because I don't want to disappoint anyone?
Bring that concern to God in prayer.
Lord, help me recognize what matters most. Show me where worry has taken the place of peace. Teach me to care for the people You've placed in my life without losing sight of Your presence. Amen.
The holidays will come, and there will be things that need our attention.
But we don't have to wait until we're exhausted to begin making room for God.
We can prepare, serve, celebrate, and love the people around us without expecting ourselves to carry every detail.
Before the holidays get loud, make room to hear Him.
With you in the quiet middle,
Jeronda
If you've been carrying more than you know how to put down, Day 3 of Coming Back to Yourself, “Lay Down What You Are Carrying,” offers a place to begin.
This free seven-day journey includes Scripture, reflection, prayer, and gentle practices to help you reconnect with God and remember who you are in Christ.