A Letter to the Man Who Is Tired

Brother,

I know you’re tired. Not sleepy. Tired.

The kind of tired that sleep doesn’t fix. The kind you carry into work and carry back home and set down next to the bed like a pair of boots.

Maybe your marriage is quieter than it used to be. Maybe the money is short again. Maybe you did the thing you swore you’d never do, again, and you’re done asking God for help because you’re ashamed to keep showing up empty-handed.

Brother, you are not alone. And you are not done.

I’m not writing this from a mountaintop. I’m writing it from the same dirt you’re standing in. I’ve been knocked down. I stayed down longer than I want to admit.

What got me up wasn’t a program. It was a prayer in the truck before work. Thirty seconds. Honest. That’s all.

You don’t need the right words. You don’t need to clean up first. You need to show up, tired, exactly as you are, and say so.

Start there. Tomorrow morning. Engine off. Before the day starts swinging.

I’ll be doing the same.

— Jake