Day 93

Deuteronomy 31–32 | John 19:17–37 | Psalm 40

I feel tired today.

Not just physically—but in that deeper, soul-level way.

Spent.

There’s a heaviness that’s been settling in over the past few weeks—like I’m still writing and reflecting, still showing up, but something feels harder. The words aren’t flowing like they used to. The spark that drove me to share every day feels dimmer.

And this morning, as I opened my Bible, I half-expected to find words that would ignite the fire again. Something uplifting. Something to jolt me back to life.

But instead, I found a song.

The Song of Moses

Deuteronomy 32 is Moses’ final song—a long, poetic declaration of God’s faithfulness and Israel’s stubbornness.

It’s beautiful.

And it’s heavy.

God had brought His people out of slavery, fed them manna from heaven, led them by fire and cloud, and yet—they forgot Him.

They chased idols.

They abandoned His ways.

They broke His heart.

And Moses sings about it—not with bitterness, but with a burdened heart. It’s a song of remembrance and warning. A song that calls Israel to remember who God is, even when they’re tired of remembering.

Songs in the Hard Places

I think about that—how songs don’t always come from a place of joy. Sometimes they come from weariness. From reflection. From the ache of knowing you’re walking toward a hard place, and the only way to get there is to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Moses wasn’t just singing because he felt inspired. He was singing because he needed to remind the people of the truth—even when that truth was hard.

And in John 19, I see another moment when truth felt beyond heavy.

Jesus—carrying His cross.

Stumbling toward Golgotha.

Taking each step, knowing that the road led to His death.

There’s no song recorded in those steps. Just the sound of suffering.

And when they reached the place of the skull, they nailed Him to the cross.

They lifted Him up.

And there He hung—between two criminals—while the world mocked and darkness covered the land.

When It Feels Like Going Through the Motions

I’ve been there lately.

Going through the motions.

Showing up. Doing the next thing.

But my heart feels worn out. The excitement that usually pulses through me when I open my Bible feels quieter. The words still speak, but they feel heavier.

And then I see Him—my Savior, walking the road to Calvary.

Not because He felt like it.

Not because it was inspiring.

But because it was necessary.

Because it was love.

When I picture Him—resolute, enduring, moving toward the cross with unwavering resolve—it humbles me. His faithfulness never faltered, even when mine does.

Jesus didn’t step forward because He was invigorated.

He stepped forward because He was resolved.

Because love doesn’t quit.

Because faithfulness doesn’t hinge on feelings.

When the Song Is for Someone Else

Moses didn’t sing because he felt lighthearted. He sang to prepare the people. To point them back to God when they would inevitably wander.

And Jesus didn’t carry that cross because it was fulfilling. He carried it because—through it—He would save the lost.

Sometimes the song isn’t for me.

Sometimes the words aren’t about me feeling better.

Sometimes they’re about staying faithful—even when it’s hard.

Even when it feels like going through the motions.

And maybe today’s reflection is just that—a song in the weary place.

A reminder to keep showing up.

To keep walking the road.

To keep singing the truth—even when it doesn’t feel light.

Because that’s what Jesus did.

And if my Savior didn’t quit when the road was rough—neither will I.

⸻

Lord, when I’m weary and the words feel heavy and my heart feels dry, remind me that faithfulness isn’t about feelings. Help me to keep walking, keep singing, keep reflecting—even when it feels like going through the motions. Because You walked the hard road for me. And You never gave up. Amen.