Hello Friend!

From grit to mercy, this has been the quiet shift shaping my life; one I didn’t recognize until years later, when a meaningful compliment from my Uncle Bud began to take on new meaning.  He once described me as having “grit and grace.”

At the time, that blessing felt like oxygen.

I was in the middle of a season that required strength just to survive and his words affirmed what I felt every day: I was pushing through, showing up, and carrying more than most people ever saw.

What I didn’t realize then was that while grit was sustaining me functionally, it was quietly costing me something deeper.

And years later, God would gently invite me into a different way of living; one not sustained by grit, but by mercy.

This season has felt like a slow, sacred movement from grit to mercy, from holding everything together to learning how to be held.

When Grit Was a Gift

My journey didn’t fall apart all at once. It unraveled over years.

• In April 2016, my father passed away from cancer.
• In August 2018, our business failed, and we moved to Texas.
• In March 2019, my mom was diagnosed with cancer.
• By December 2019, she was gone.

In between, I was her full-time caregiver; alone, sick myself (though I didn’t yet know I had breast implant illness), holding grief while my husband worked tirelessly to provide for us.

• In January 2020, I discovered I had breast implant illness.
• In March 2020, we lost our dog, Tucker.
• In June 2020, my husband’s best friend died by suicide.
• In September 2020, I explanted.
• In November 2021, I began my health journey, and it was there that God would eventually begin reshaping my understanding of strength.

During those years, grit was necessary.

Grit helped me:

• get out of bed
• show up for my mom with compassion
• keep moving when stopping wasn't an option
• love others even when I was exhausted

Grit wasn’t pride.
Grit wasn’t self-reliance.
Grit was survival.

And I want to say this clearly — grit is not the villain of this story.

But grit was never meant to be the fuel source forever.

The Hidden Cost of Grit

Over time, grit began to take a quiet toll on me.

It cost me my peace, rest, joy, softness as well as hope that a gentler season could ever exist.

I didn’t collapse outwardly.
I collapsed inwardly.

Grit taught me how to endure, but not how to rest.
How to push through, but not how to be held.
How to stay strong, but not how to crumble safely.

Somewhere along the way, strength became something I felt I had to maintain, even in the presence of God.

From Grit to Mercy: The Strength I Didn’t Know I Was Allowed to Choose

Years later, God has begun teaching me something radically different.

I came across this line while studying Scripture:

“Having this ministry by the mercy of God, we do not lose heart.” 2 Corinthians 4:1

That stopped me.

Paul doesn’t say he doesn’t lose heart because he’s resilient, disciplined, or gritty.

He says he doesn’t lose heart because of mercy.

That was my “ah-ha" moment.

I finally realized something that changed everything for me:

Contentment is not sustained by grit, it is sustained by mercy.

Mercy is what allows you to:

• Stop holding yourself together
• Stop proving strength
• Stop constantly self-correcting
• Stop managing perception

Mercy says:

• You are carried.
• You are seen.
• You are allowed to rest.
• You are loved even when you fall apart.

“The Lord is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and rich in love.” Psalm 145:8

I am learning that when I stop striving to stay strong, I don’t fall apart, I step onto holy ground. The kind of holy ground where surrender meets mercy and I am finally safe to be held within God's loving arms.

What I didn’t realize then was that God was leading me from grit to mercy all along.

The Shift I’m Living in Now

Here’s what mercy is teaching me now:

Physically, yes, there are still days that require grit.
There is work to do. Responsibilities to carry. Life to live.

But privately with Jesus, I do not have to remain strong.

I may need to be strong for others, but I don’t have to remain strong for myself.

I can crumble.
I can be vulnerable.
I can admit weakness.
I can rest in His arms without explanation or apology.

And here’s the holy paradox:

It is in resting in His mercy that I find true strength again.

Not the frantic, self-sustained kind.
But the quiet, Spirit-filled kind.

The kind that flows from being held, not from holding everything together.

My Invitation for You

Maybe grit has served you well.
Maybe it carried you through seasons you never would have survived otherwise.

But if you’re tired…
If peace feels elusive…
If rest feels unsafe…
If strength feels heavy…

I want you to hear this:

God is not asking you to be tougher.
He is inviting you to be held.

Grit may help you endure.
But mercy will heal you.

And there is a season where God gently says,
“You don’t have to live armored anymore.”

My Prayer For You Today:

Jesus,

For the woman reading this who feels tired from holding everything together, meet her with the same mercy You have shown me.

Teach her she doesn’t have to strive to stay strong.
Show her what it means to rest in Your loving arms and to be held by a compassionate Father.

Let Your mercy quiet the fear she has carried for so long, and become the source of her peace, and the strength of her contentment. Amen.

I pray this blessed you. I would love to pray with you so feel free to drop a comment.

XOXO
With love,