I Can’t Do It All

Read

Matthew 11:28–30 "Then Jesus said, 'Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.'"

Think

There’s a moment—usually around 2:17 PM—where your brain stalls, your shoulders ache, and your phone buzzes with yet another notification. It’s that moment when you wonder, “How am I supposed to keep this up?”

Modern life has quietly convinced us that we’re only as valuable as we are productive. If you’re not doing everything, you’re not doing enough. But somewhere between the calendar alerts and the unpaid bills and the emotional caregiving and the spiritual striving, a quiet panic grows: I can’t do it all. And the truth is—you were never meant to.

The people listening to Jesus in Matthew 11 were deeply familiar with pressure. Their lives were weighed down by Roman occupation and religious legalism. The Pharisees had turned following God into a never-ending to-do list. Hundreds of extra laws. Social shame. Spiritual exhaustion. And in the middle of that, Jesus doesn’t give them a cheat code—he gives them an invitation.

“Come to me.” Not come to a system. Not come when you’ve cleaned yourself up. Just come.

Jesus doesn’t shame our weariness. He sees it. And his solution isn’t more rules—it’s more of himself. But notice—he doesn’t promise a life without burden. He says, Take my yoke upon you. That’s not the removal of weight—it’s a different kind of weight. In the agricultural world, a yoke bound two oxen together so they could move as one. If you were the younger ox, being yoked meant you didn’t have to pull alone. You matched steps with the stronger one. He carried the weight. You just had to walk. Jesus isn’t offering escape. He’s offering attachment.

When you’re yoked to him, you move in rhythm with his grace. You don’t hustle for approval—you walk in it. You don’t muscle through your anxiety—you bring it to him. You don’t collapse under expectations—you learn to discern what’s actually yours to carry. And if we’re honest, a lot of what’s draining us isn’t even from God. It’s the weight of proving ourselves. It’s living for applause instead of obedience. It’s saying “yes” to everything because we’re afraid of disappointing anyone.

But following Jesus means learning to live unhurried. To let him teach you the difference between “urgent” and “important.” To trade pressure for presence. To finally stop performing. You can’t do it all. But you were never supposed to. The real question is: Who are you yoked to right now?

Apply

Today, say “no” to something that isn’t yours to carry. It could be a task you’ve taken on out of guilt, a people-pleasing habit, or an unrealistic self-expectation. Practice trusting God by drawing a boundary. Let someone else take the lead or simply leave one thing unfinished without shame. The world won’t fall apart. But your soul might start to breathe again.

Pray

Jesus, I’ve been trying to carry too much. Forgive me for assuming it’s all up to me. Teach me to walk in step with you—not ahead of you, not dragging behind, but with you. Help me notice what’s not mine to carry and release it. You offer rest, not performance. Grace, not pressure. So today, I choose your yoke instead of mine. In Jesus’ name. Amen.