When "God Only Gives You What You Can Handle" Isn't What I Need to Hear

If you're a caregiver — or just a human being going through something hard — there's a phrase you've probably heard more times than you can count:

"God only gives you what you can handle."

I know people mean well when they say it. They're trying to offer comfort, trying to wrap a hard situation in something that sounds like strength and hope. But if I'm being real? There are moments when that phrase lands more like a thud than a warm blanket.

Because when you're already carrying the weight of the world — when the days are long, the emotions run high, and the challenges just keep coming — being told that this load was handpicked for you because you can "handle it" doesn't exactly feel reassuring. It can feel lonely. Heavy. Like somehow, your struggle is being minimized because you're seen as "strong enough" to take it.

And while yes, I do have a lot of faith — real, gut-deep faith that I cling to when the nights are long and the emotions are raw — faith doesn’t mean I don’t sometimes break down. It doesn’t mean I don't sometimes cry out, "This is too much!" It doesn't mean I'm not scared or tired or wondering how I'm going to find the energy to keep doing this day after day.

Faith doesn't erase the hard. It walks with me through it.

When the days feel unbearable, I don't need a reminder that I'm some superhuman who can shoulder it all. What I need is someone who will simply sit beside me and say, "Yeah... this is hard. I'm here." Someone who gets that sometimes the bravest thing I can do is just breathe and keep moving forward.

And sometimes, you don't even have to say anything at all. Sometimes the greatest comfort is a hug — just a silent, human reminder that you’re not carrying the weight of the world alone. A hug says, "I'm here, I see you, and I'm not going anywhere," without needing to find the "right" words.

When hearts are heavy, presence speaks louder than platitudes ever could.

When I think about strength and faith, I think about Esther. Esther wasn’t told, "You can handle it," and left alone. She was challenged to stand up for truth — even when she was terrified, even when the stakes were unimaginably high. She didn’t endure quietly; she used her voice. She took a deep breath, stepped forward, and said what needed to be said. "For such a time as this," she chose to act — not because she felt invincible, but because she trusted that her faith was bigger than her fear.

Esther’s Story teaches us that courage is not the absence of fear but the decision to act despite it. It’s about standing up for what’s right, even when it’s hard and even when it’s frightening.

That’s the kind of encouragement I need when life feels crushing — not a soft pat on the head telling me I’m tough enough, but a reminder that like Esther, I was made for more than just surviving hard things. I was made to stand in truth, to lean on God’s strength when mine is gone, and to know that it’s okay to admit when I’m overwhelmed.

So if you ever find yourself at a loss for words when someone you care about is struggling, remember: you don't have to find the perfect phrase. You don't even have to say anything at all. Sometimes, just showing up — with a hug, with a hand to hold, with a heart willing to listen — is the greatest gift you can offer.

And if you’re the one carrying it all today, I see you. Your faith is not measured by how much you can “handle.” It's measured by how you keep showing up, how you speak your truth, how you hold onto hope even when your hands feel empty.

You were made for such a time as this.
And you are not alone.