Take Care of Yourself So You Can Take Care of Those You Love (Again)

Listen to this podcast episode here:

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”

—John 14:27 (NIV)

There’s a quiet truth I’ve had to learn the hard way: Taking care of myself isn’t selfish—it’s wise.

As moms, we’re wired to give. We pour out. We carry. We hold things together. And somewhere in the shuffle of needs and to-do lists and little hands tugging at our sleeves, we forget that we’re human too.

I’ve shared this message before—over a year ago, in fact—but it’s one I keep coming back to. And based on how many women reached out after that podcast episode, I know I’m not the only one who needed it.

So today I want to revisit that conversation. Whether this is your first time reading or you need a reminder, I pray these words bring a deep breath of grace to your soul.

When I Reached My Limit

Years ago, when my boys were still little and I was deep in the trenches of motherhood, I hit a wall. Not all at once. It happened slowly—like a tire with a slow leak. A little energy here, a little patience there, until I had nothing left.

My body was the first to wave the white flag.

Heart issues, hives, headaches, thyroid issues, kidney stones—you name it. I had always been healthy, high-energy, capable. I didn’t know what to do with this version of myself who had no energy.

But the truth was, I hadn’t taken care of myself. Not really.

I had demanded so much from my body without giving it what it needed in return. I sacrificed sleep for quiet time. I skipped meals or grazed on leftovers. I stayed up too late, woke up too early, and carried the silent belief that good moms don’t have needs.

But good moms do have needs. And wise moms learn how to meet them.

A Shift in Mindset

Looking back, what changed me wasn’t just the physical symptoms—it was a shift in how I thought about my role and responsibility as a mother.

Here are a few of the mindset shifts that helped me begin to live differently:

1. Mature women recognize their own needs—and do something about them.

Just like our kids must learn to feed themselves and meet their own needs as they grow, so must we. Not in a selfish way, but in a way that honors the life and calling God has given us.

No one else is going to make us rest, nourish our bodies, or set boundaries. That’s part of maturity. And if we don’t learn it, the people we love most will eventually feel the effects.

2. God gives us agency to create a balanced, healthy life.

We’re not victims of our circumstances. We can build rhythms and routines that reflect our values and serve our families. It won’t be perfect—and it doesn’t need to be. But it can be better.

Even something as simple as a Monday reset has become life-giving to me. After a weekend of chaos, I tell myself, This is a reset day. It’s not about perfection—it’s about grace, rhythm, and the ability to begin again.

3. Rest is not a luxury. It’s a biblical principle.

Sabbath rest isn’t optional. God designed it for us—not to restrict us, but to bless us. When I neglect rest, everything suffers—my attitude, my patience, even my faith.

And when I rest, even in small ways, I create space for God’s peace to settle in our home again.

What This Looks Like in Real Life

In those early years, I thought my greatest need was solitude. I’m an introvert—I craved quiet. So I stayed up late just to be alone, even if it meant sacrificing sleep.

But what I really needed was rest. And rest, I learned, is a form of stewardship.

Now, instead of resisting structure, I embrace rhythms. I let go of the idea that everything has to be perfectly timed. I’ve learned that flow is more life-giving than rigid schedules—and it allows room for both flexibility and margin.

And when busy seasons come? I hold on to what I’ve learned and return to my routines when I can. Life doesn’t spiral into chaos quite so easily anymore.

A Final Word (and a Prayer)

I don’t share this from a place of having it all figured out. I still forget. I still slip back into old patterns. But the difference now is, I know how to find my way back.

Back to grace.
Back to balance.
Back to the wisdom God offers us when we ask.

So if you’re feeling stretched thin, worn down, or like you’ve lost sight of your own needs, I want you to hear this:

You matter, too.
Your needs are not a burden.
Taking care of yourself is not selfish—it’s how you keep showing up in love.

And it’s okay to start small. A cup of tea in silence. A walk around the block. A kind word to yourself. Let it be the first step.

Reflection Questions

What is one small way I can care for myself this week—without guilt?
Have I been believing that rest is optional? What would it look like to treat it as essential?
What are some realistic rhythms I can build into my days to support my own well-being?

Friend, I’m praying for you.

May the Lord teach you to walk in wisdom and grace.
May you have the courage to rest and the humility to ask for help.
And may your home be filled with peace—not because life is perfect, but because you are grounded in His love.

You’re doing sacred work. And He sees you.

With grace,
Audrey

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