“Come to me, all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”
— Matthew 11:28

There’s a feeling I’ve been trying to describe my entire life, but I never quite had the language for it—until recently.

In preparing a group for my clients, I came across a phrase often used in recovery:

“Irritable, restless, and discontent.”

The moment I read it, something in me settled. Not because the feeling went away—but because I finally had words for it.

That’s the feeling I’ve known for as long as I can remember.

The Life of Reaching

For most of my life, I lived with a quiet sense that wherever I was… was just short of where I was supposed to be.

Like if I could just get the right job, the right relationships, the right recognition—then everything would finally settle.

So I lived in a posture of reaching.

Always searching. Always striving. Always believing peace was just one step ahead of me.

Even after coming into a deeper understanding of my identity in Christ, if I’m honest… that didn’t immediately go away.

The language changed. The justification changed. But the posture? It was still there.

I just spiritualized the striving.

When Striving Looks Like Purpose

Those closest to me have seen it.

Chasing position. Wrestling for clarity. Longing for affirmation.

All while being convinced I was following God.

But here’s what I’ve come to realize:

That same “irritable, restless, discontent” state we talk about in addiction can exist just as easily in spiritual pursuit.

And the solution isn’t to replace one pursuit with another.

It’s to stop striving altogether.

The Question That Exposed Everything

Before my ordination, the Lord asked me a question I couldn’t escape:

“If no one knew your name, would you still do this?”

Would you still love? Still serve? Still give your life away… if no one ever recognized it?

I said yes.

But the truth was… the answer was no.

Because something in me was still trying to resolve that inner unrest through being seen.

I hadn’t died to the need to be known.

What Contentment Really Means

In Philippians 4, Paul says, “I have learned to be content in all things.”

Contentment isn’t passivity. It’s not laziness.

It’s the absence of striving.

It’s what happens when you are no longer reaching for something outside of what has already been given in Christ.

We were never created to live searching for life.

We were created to live from it.

From seatedness. From union. From being fully known and fully found in Him.

The Invitation Into Rest

“Come to me… and I will give you rest.”

Not distraction. Not improvement. Not a better strategy.

Rest.

The Only Place Peace Is Found

The answer to that lifelong feeling of being irritable, restless, and discontent is not to fill your life with more.

It’s to lay your life down.

Because the only place that feeling truly dissolves is in the realization that you are already held, already known, already complete in Him.

I’ve tried to find peace in many things—identity, achievement, calling, even purpose.

But the only place I ever truly found it was in surrender.

The Dream That Became Reality

Years ago, I had a dream.

I was on a rooftop, busy doing all the things I thought would bring fulfillment—but I wasn’t at peace.

Then I saw a river.

I knew that the river was the life of Christ—His Spirit, His flow, His fullness.

And suddenly, nothing on that rooftop mattered anymore.

All I wanted was the river.

So I jumped.

The Invitation Still Stands

Will you keep striving to become something?

Or will you step into the One who already is everything?

Maybe the peace you’ve been searching for your entire life is waiting on the other side of letting go.