Biblical Truth and Encouragement for when You're Single and Weary of Doing It All on Your Own

​Last December, I got really sick the week before Christmas. My whole body ached, my nose was stuffed up, my ears were plugged, and my throat the most sore it’s ever been. I went to the hospital and got tested for all the things, which all came back negative. You just have a really bad cold, the doctor told me.

I continued to rest, take medicine, drink warm water with honey, and eat a lot of soup.

Not only did I feel unwell physically, I was also very anxious.

​Because the dishes were piling up.
There were still gifts to wrap.
I needed to do laundry.
My fridge and cupboards were getting emptier.
I had said I would make certain foods for the Christmas gatherings.
I ran out of medicine.
And then I ran out of soup.

Each day I was sick, the to-do list grew longer—the to-do list that gets checked off by me and me alone.

It was one of those instance when being single felt extra single.

And on top of it all, I didn’t know if I’d be well enough to go the Christmas gatherings with my family. Would I spend Christmas alone, with only the to-dos I hadn’t gotten done?

You may not be laid up with sickness this holiday season, but maybe your singleness is feeling extra single, and you’re weary of doing all the to-dos on your own.

Christmas is a celebration of Jesus’ birth, announced as “good tidings of great joy which be will to all people… And on earth peace, goodwill toward men!” (Luke 2:10, 14)

But what about some peace for our stressed minds, some joy for our weary hearts? What do we do when we’re tired of doing it all alone?

If we were sitting across from one another and you shared your weariness and loneliness with me, I wouldn’t jump to giving advice to fix it. I wouldn’t diminish what you’re feeling in an effort to help you feel better. I wouldn’t downplay what’s hard about singleness in an effort to help you see the good.

I’d say, I understand.
I’d say, I get it.
I’d say, That is hard.

And I’d hope you’d feel seen. I’d hope you’d feel unashamed in how you’re feeling and safe to cry if you needed. I’d hope you’d have space to breathe deep and just be.

If after this you wanted some encouragement for moving forward in this breathing and being, here’s what I’d offer—that’s helped me in my own weariness and loneliness, and are invitations from our Heavenly Father to the weary and lonely:

Pour Out Your Heart
You and I aren’t sitting with one another (though I hope this blog gives you a sense of that), but there is Someone who is always present with you: our Holy and Loving God.

I don’t say that as a platitude. I don’t say that to sweep your weariness and loneliness under the rug.

Because God doesn’t. He isn’t aloof to your tears; He isn’t indifferent to your heartache; He isn’t annoyed by or uncomfortable with your myriad of emotions.

Rather, He has compassion for you.

This is what we celebrate at Christmas: the incarnation—the God of immeasurable glory, staggering grace, and perfect goodness not only stepping into the messy brokenness of our world, but experiencing it as a human, just as we do, Himself being broken and suffering for us.

So you can pour out your heart to Him, with honesty and without shame—because He is compassionate. And in His compassion, He comforts those who are sad; He loves those who are lonely; He gives rest to those who are weary; and He holds close those who are hurting.

Ask for What You Need
That week I was so sick, when I found myself in need of more medicine and more soup, I texted my parents and asked them to pick some up for me. And they did.

I texted my friends and asked them to pray that I would get better in time for the Christmas gatherings. And they did.

I asked God to give me rest and peace amidst the anxiety. And He did.

As lonely as doing the to-dos, carrying the burdens, making the decisions in our singleness can feel, we don’t have to do it alone. We can ask for what we need—from God and from others.

In Philippians 4:7, we’re invited to present our requests to God—to ask Him for the comfort, hope, peace, joy, wisdom, help, whatever it is we need—trusting He will “meet all [our] needs according to His glorious riches in Christ Jesus.” (Phil. 4:19)

Asking others for help can be a bit harder for some of us—because we don’t want to appear “needy”; because we may not know who to ask; because we’re afraid (or assuming) we’ll be told no.

But in Galatians 6:2, we are called to “carry each other’s burdens.” We can’t do this if we don’t share our burdens and make known the support, encouragement, and help we need.

And needing help isn’t being a burden; it’s being open to being loved right where you are.

Invite Others In
Sometimes, the thing we need isn’t soup or medicine or someone to take out the trash.

The thing we need is a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, an embrace.

The thing we need is presence. Someone to just be with us, and with whom we can just be.

Are there others we can invite into the weariness and loneliness we’re experiencing, with whom we can share where we’re at and what’s on our hearts, to be present together in support and solidarity?

Yes, it means being vulnerable, and by definition, vulnerability is a risk. But vulnerability can also create relationships of safety, strength, and compassion. Because there are many others who are also weary and lonely (and not just other single people). There are many who would respond, I understand, I get it, that is hard. 

Leave Room for Rest
Doing the to-dos alone, the added hustle and bustle of the holidays, the heavy emotions we may be experiencing during this season, navigating singleness (especially when we’ve been single longer than we had hoped)—no wonder we feel weary.

In Matthew 11:28, Jesus invites us, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

We need to leave room for rest. We need to leave room for sitting in Jesus’ Presence. We need to leave room for being filled with His strength, His peace, His joy, His wisdom.

If you’re anything like me, this mean resisting the fear of disappointing others and our need to people-please, and saying “no” to the things you don’t really have the time, energy, or finances for.

This could also mean saying “yes” to things you normally don’t prioritize, but that fill you up—whether that’s going for a walk, getting coffee with a friend, or creating something just because.

These practices I’ve shared aren’t meant to be a quick fix for the weariness and loneliness you’re feeling.

They’re meant to help you breathe and just be—knowing you are held in the weariness, known in the loneliness, and loved in your singleness.