There’s a quiet lie many of us believe: happiness means not having to do anything hard.

No pressure. No responsibility. No difficult conversations. Just peace, comfort, clean sheets, iced coffee, and everyone leaving us alone.

And honestly? That sounds wonderful… for about three hours.

But psychology tells a different story.

The happiest people are not usually the people with the easiest lives. They are often the people with clear, meaningful, challenging goals.

Goals that stretch them. Goals that give them purpose. Goals that often involve giving, building, serving, loving, healing, parenting, creating, or contributing to something beyond themselves.

They are not happy because life is easy. They are fulfilled because life has meaning. That is where grit comes in.

What is grit?

Psychologist Angela Duckworth famously describes grit as “passion and perseverance for very long-term goals.”

In her research, grit is not just about working hard for a few weeks when motivation is high. It is about staying committed to something meaningful over time, especially when progress is slow, boring, disappointing, or difficult.

Grit is not hype.

Hype says, “I feel motivated today.” Grit says, “This matters, so I’m still here.”

It is the student who keeps studying after a disappointing result.
The parent who repairs after a hard day.
The couple who chooses communication over emotional withdrawal.
The person in therapy who keeps doing the work, even when healing feels painfully slow.

Duckworth also notes that grit is “living life like it’s a marathon, not a sprint.” That is a helpful image, because meaningful growth rarely happens in one dramatic burst. It is usually built through small, repeated acts of courage.

Grit is not glamorous.

But it is powerful. The happiest people often have hard goals.

We tend to think happiness comes from comfort. But research on wellbeing suggests that humans need more than pleasure to flourish.

Positive psychology researcher Martin Seligman’s PERMA model identifies five key ingredients of wellbeing: positive emotion, engagement, relationships, meaning, and accomplishment. In other words, a flourishing life is not just about feeling good. It is also about being deeply engaged, connected, purposeful, and able to work towards things that matter.

This helps explain why a life built only around comfort can start to feel strangely empty.

More convenience does not always equal more joy. More entertainment does not always equal more peace. More self-focus does not always equal more fulfilment.

Sometimes the thing we call “peace” is actually avoidance wearing slippers.

Of course, rest matters. Safety matters. Nervous system regulation matters. We are not machines, and burnout is not a badge of honour.

But a life with no meaningful challenge can leave us feeling flat, restless, and disconnected from our own strength.

We were not made only to consume comfort. We were made to grow.

Grit gives us direction

Self-Determination Theory, developed by psychologists Edward Deci and Richard Ryan, suggests that people flourish when three core psychological needs are met: autonomy, competence, and relatedness. Put simply, we do better when we have a sense of choice, a sense that we are growing, and a sense of connection with others.

Meaningful hard goals can help meet all three.

A clear goal gives us direction.
A challenging goal builds competence.
A generous goal connects us to something beyond ourselves.

This is why clear-cut, hard goals can be surprisingly good for our mental health. Not crushing, unrealistic goals. Not perfectionistic goals. Not goals built on shame.

But goals that are anchored in meaning.

“I want to become emotionally healthy.”
“I want to build a strong marriage.”
“I want to parent with patience and presence.”
“I want to create something that helps others.”
“I want to heal, not just cope.”
“I want to live a life that contributes.”

These kinds of goals give the mind somewhere meaningful to go.

Grit is often connected to love

One of the most beautiful things about gritty people is that their goals often move beyond themselves.

They are not just chasing success, image, money, platform, or personal achievement. Often, their deepest goals are connected to love.

“I want to be a present parent.”
“I want to serve my community.”
“I want to become emotionally safe for the people I love.”
“I want to break a family pattern.”
“I want to become the kind of person younger me needed.”

Research on prosocial behaviour shows that helping and contributing to others can support mental health and wellbeing.

We are wired for connection, and something powerful happens when our goals are not only about self-enrichment but also about love, service, and contribution.

That does not mean becoming a people-pleaser or abandoning yourself. That is not grit. That is burnout in a cardigan.

Healthy grit is not self-neglect. It is values-based perseverance.

It asks:

“What matters?”
“Who am I becoming?”
“Who is my life blessing?”

Hard does not always mean wrong.

We live in a culture that often treats discomfort as a warning sign.

If the job is hard, quit.
If the relationship is hard, leave.
If the discipline is hard, stop.
If healing is hard, distract yourself.
If the gym is hard, buy new activewear and call it a wellness era.

But discomfort is not always danger.

Sometimes discomfort is the feeling of growth. Sometimes it is what happens when old patterns are being challenged. Sometimes it is the gap between who you have been and who you are becoming.

Grit helps us tell the difference between something that is harmful and something that is simply hard.

That distinction matters.

Some things should be quit: toxic environments, unsafe relationships, chronic over-functioning, unrealistic expectations, and goals built on shame.

But some things should not be abandoned simply because they are difficult.

A healthy marriage will be hard sometimes.
Emotional healing will be hard sometimes.
Parenting will be hard sometimes.
Building anything meaningful will be hard sometimes.

Grit says, “Hard does not automatically mean wrong.”

The brain loves immediate rewards.

That is why scrolling feels easier than studying. Snacking feels easier than meal prepping. Avoiding a hard conversation feels easier than repairing a relationship. Staying the same often feels safer than changing.

Long-term goals require us to tolerate the gap between effort and reward.

That gap is where many people quit.

Grit helps us stay in the middle — the unglamorous place where progress is happening, but not always quickly. Where no one is clapping. Where the result is not obvious yet. Where consistency feels ordinary.

Most transformation does not happen in one dramatic moment. It happens through repeated choices.

The apology.
The walk.
The journal entry.
The therapy session.
The budget.
The boundary.
The honest conversation.
The decision to try again tomorrow.

This is why grit matters so much for mental health. It teaches us that our future is often shaped less by one huge breakthrough and more by the tiny things we keep returning to.

Grit is not just talent

One of Duckworth’s central arguments is that talent alone is not enough. Potential matters, but what we do with that potential matters too. This is encouraging because many people disqualify themselves too early.

They think, “I’m not naturally disciplined.”
“I’m not confident.”
“I’m not good at this.”
“I always start and stop.”
“I’m just not that kind of person.”

But grit reminds us that growth is not reserved for naturally motivated people. Perseverance can be practised. Resilience can be strengthened. Focus can be trained. Passion can deepen over time.

Grit is not about being the most gifted person in the room. It is about becoming the kind of person who keeps showing up for what matters.

How do we grow in grit?

We do not grow grit by shaming ourselves into discipline.

Shame might create short bursts of performance, but it rarely creates lasting transformation. Grit grows best in the soil of meaning, hope, support, and practice.

1. Choose goals that actually matter

Not every goal deserves your grit.

Some goals are just borrowed pressure. Some are comparison dressed up as ambition. Some are really attempts to prove you are enough.

Ask yourself:

“Why does this matter?”
“Who does this help me become?”
“Is this connected to my values or my insecurity?”

The clearer the meaning, the stronger the perseverance.

2. Make the goal clear

Vague goals are hard to sustain.

“I want to be healthier” is a wish.
“I will walk for 20 minutes three times a week” is a goal.

“I want a better marriage” is beautiful.
“We will have one phone-free conversation after dinner each night” is clear.

Grit needs clarity.

You cannot persevere with a fog.

3. Expect boredom

Most people do not quit because the dream is impossible. They quit because the middle gets boring.

The beginning is exciting. The end is rewarding. The middle is repetition.

That is why gritty people make peace with ordinary faithfulness. They keep showing up when it is no longer shiny, new, or emotionally thrilling.

Sometimes maturity is doing the right thing while feeling mildly annoyed about it.

4. Learn from setbacks without becoming them

Gritty people are not people who never fail. They are people who interpret failure differently.

Instead of, “I failed, so I am a failure,” they learn to say, “Something did not work. What can I adjust?”

A setback is information.

It is not an identity.

5. Build support

Grit is personal, but it is not meant to be lonely.

We persevere better when we are supported, encouraged, challenged, and reminded of who we are becoming.

Find people who do not just protect your comfort, but call out your courage.

People who can say, “Rest, but don’t quit.”
“Grieve, but don’t give up.”
“Pause, but don’t abandon what matters.”

Grit still needs wisdom. It is important to say this clearly: grit is not a magic solution. It is not “just try harder.” That phrase has probably done more damage than we realise.

The gritty life is not always the easy life. But it is often the meaningful one.

And perhaps the happiest people are not waking up every day to a life with no hard things. Perhaps they are waking up to clear, meaningful goals that are shaping them into people of depth, courage, love, and purpose.

Not perfect people. Growing people. People with room to grow.

Article supplied with thanks to Sabrina Peters.

About the Author: Sabrina is a pastor and a psychologist who is dedicated to helping people experience wholeness and growth. Passionate about building healthy families, she spends her days raising kids, supporting clients, and creating resources that inspire freedom and hope.

Feature image: Via Canva.com

Wanting to save for retirement is not a sin. Refusing to plan is called foolish.

What the Bible Says About Planning Ahead

The Bible consistently praises planning ahead, not as a lack of faith, but as wisdom. Proverbs 21:5 says the plans of the diligent lead to profit, while those who are hasty come to poverty. Planning for the future and trusting God are not presented as opposites in scripture.

The Ant and the Grasshopper Principle

Proverbs 6:6 to 8 points to the ant as an example of wisdom, storing up provisions during the harvest season without needing anyone to tell it to. The principle is straightforward: preparing during a season of abundance for a season of need is wise, not fearful.

Does Saving for Retirement Show a Lack of Faith?

No. Trusting God does not mean refusing to plan. It means holding your plans with an open hand and remaining willing to give and respond generously, even while saving. The danger the Bible warns against is hoarding out of fear or greed, not saving with wisdom and an open hand.

How Much Should You Actually Save?

There is no fixed number in scripture. A common practical approach is to save consistently over your working years, starting as early as possible, so that compounding growth does most of the work over time. What matters more than a specific target is consistency and starting now rather than waiting.

Retirement as a New Season of Ministry, Not an End Goal

Many Christians find their most active years of ministry, service, and generosity come after their formal working years end. Planning for retirement is not planning to stop being useful. It is often planning for the freedom to serve, without the constraint of needing a paycheck.

Article supplied with thanks to Wealth with Purpose.

About the Author: Alex is a licensed financial planner and the founder of Wealth with Purpose a Stewardship Ministry that helps Christians handle their money God’s way.

Feature image: Via Canva.com

It’s not Insta-worthy styling and curated birthday themes, but rather the feeling of being the main character who’s visibly, publicly acknowledged.

You know the feeling. You’re scrolling at 10pm, you see somebody’s beautifully styled dessert table with a colour palette and a themed backdrop, and a small voice in your head says, Is that the bar now? Is that what I’m supposed to be doing?

It isn’t. But the voice is persistent and it’s worth talking about honestly, because the pressure is real and it lands almost entirely on mums.

Here’s the thing worth holding onto. Ask an adult what they remember about their childhood birthdays and you’ll rarely get a description of the decorations. What comes back is smaller and stranger. Being allowed to choose dinner. A parent making a fuss at breakfast. A particular cake that was slightly wrong but was theirs. Being, for one day, unmistakably the main character.

That last part is the whole thing. What a child is actually after on their birthday is the feeling of being visibly, publicly celebrated. Not the production value. The visibility.

Which is why some of the cheapest things you can do land hardest.

The Badge Thing

This sounds almost too simple, but it works on kids in a way that’s slightly hilarious.

Give a small child something to wear that announces it’s their birthday and they will not take it off. Personalised birthday badges with their name and their new age on them get worn to the shops, to the park, to bed. It’s a wearable announcement and it means every adult they encounter that day says “Happy birthday!” without being prompted.

That’s the mechanism. You’ve outsourced the celebrating to the entire neighbourhood. The kid gets a full day of strangers making a fuss, and it costs you a few dollars and no effort at all.

It works particularly well for the ages where the birthday is enormously important but the child doesn’t yet care about anything aesthetic. Roughly three to eight years, in my experience of watching this play out.

Morning Matters More Than The Party

If you do nothing else, do the morning.

Kids wake up on their birthday already vibrating. The first hour sets the tone for the whole day and it’s the cheapest hour to make special. Streamers taped across the bedroom doorway that they have to burst through. Their name spelled out on the table. Pancakes or whatever passes for a treat breakfast in your house. Being allowed to open one thing before school.

None of this requires planning beyond a five-minute trip to the cupboard the night before. All of it gets remembered.

If You’re Doing A Party, One Genuinely Useful Trick

Here’s a thing nobody warns you about: At most kids’ parties, the guests don’t all know each other.

You’ve got school friends, a couple of cousins, the neighbour’s kids, someone from swimming. They arrive, they clump into the groups they came in and it takes half the party before anyone mixes. Meanwhile you’re trying to remember which child is which so you can supervise, feed and eventually return them all to the correct adult.

Name badges solve both problems at once and they cost almost nothing. The kids get to find each other by name instead of hovering awkwardly. You get to call every child by name, which does more for party-wide behaviour than you’d expect. And when someone’s parent turns up early, you know which child belongs to them.

Let Them Make Things

If you want the birthday to fill an afternoon without you running an activity, hand the making over to the kids.

Craft that produces something wearable beats craft that produces something that gets left behind. Badge kits, where each kid designs and assembles their own, work well because everyone finishes with something they chose. Make them together at the party and the activity and the party favour become the same thing, which is one fewer decision and one fewer bag of plastic going home.

Same principle applies on the birthday itself. A child making their own thing is a child occupied and pleased with themselves, which is roughly the goal.

What You’re Allowed To Skip

This is the part that matters most and it’s the shortest.

You don’t have to have a theme. You don’t have to bake. There’s no requirement to invite the whole class and there’s no requirement to do a party at all. Some years, a day out with two friends is better in every way.

You’re also allowed to have a bad birthday. Kids get overtired and melt down at their own parties with impressive regularity. It doesn’t mean you got it wrong.

The comparison problem is worth naming too. What you’re looking at online is a curated moment, staged and photographed, and sometimes staged specifically to be photographed. It isn’t a documentary of how that family’s day went. Measuring your ordinary day against someone else’s best three seconds is a fight you can’t win and your child isn’t running that comparison anyway.

The Actual Measure

Did they feel like the most important person in the house for a day?

That’s it. That’s the whole test. A badge on the jumper, streamers on a doorway, their name shouted at breakfast, being asked what they want for dinner and having the answer honoured, even though it’s beige and comes with chips.

The elaborate version is lovely if you enjoy making it. Genuinely, if styling a party is your thing, do it and have a great time. But if it’s an obligation you’re carrying because you think it’s the standard, put it down. It isn’t the standard, and it never was.

Article supplied with thanks to Mum’s At The Table

About the Author: Adriana is Mums At The Table’s part-time digital content creator and writes from Kingscliff, Queensland.

Feature image: Via Canva.com

Every relationship consists of two people, but the hard truth was the most consistent factor in my failed relationship, was me.

You’d think we’d be better in a relationship the second time around. But that’s usually not the case. Statistically, second and third marriages are more likely to end in divorce than first marriages. That’s a confronting reality, especially for those who have already lived through the breakdown of a relationship and hope to avoid it from happening again.  

A common assumption is that the problem was the person we were with. Maybe it was a chemistry issue, an ongoing conflict or something else. When all else has failed, the solution seems obvious—find someone better, more compatible and everything will work out. 

To be fair, there’s some truth to that. While it’s rarely the case that one person is entirely at fault and the other completely without it, not all relationships are equal. Sometimes one person brings far more dysfunction into the dynamic than the other. In those cases, pairing with a more emotionally secure partner will likely lead to a healthier relationship. That doesn’t mean they have nothing left to work on—it simply reflects that they were operating from a stronger foundation.

But what if that’s not your situation? What if you were the more dysfunctional one? That’s the part I’ve had to come to terms with.

While every relationship consists of two people, I’ve come to realise that the most consistent factor in my failed relationship . . . was me. That was a hard truth to come to, but a necessary one. Because for people in my position, simply finding someone new won’t solve anything.

Think about it. If the core issues are internal, changing the person doesn’t change the pattern, it just relocates it. The same tendencies, reactions and blind spots will show up again no matter who you’re with and will cause trouble all over again. 

My experience was painful. But it was also a necessary wake-up call. It forced me to confront parts of myself I hadn’t wanted to see and rethink what actually makes a relationship work. So, I thought I’d share what I’ve learnt on my journey so far. 

Communication Is Good, Emotional Safety Is Better

“Communication is key” is one of the most common pieces of relationship advice shared. And for good reason—good communication is essential. But communication isn’t the foundation, it’s the result of something deeper: emotional safety.

Emotional safety is what allows someone to say what they actually feel, not just what feels acceptable to say. It’s the sense that even the most difficult emotions and uncomfortable truths—whether anger, loneliness or resentment—can be expressed without fear of it blowing up in your face. It means you don’t have to edit yourself to keep the peace or be accepted but can be fully and authentically you with another person. When this is missing, communication breaks down before it even begins.

The truth is, when it doesn’t feel safe to be honest, people will just stop being honest. They’ll hold back from what they’re feeling and learn to bury their issues.   

In my own experience, I am able to look back and recognise how often I failed to provide that safety. When honest truths were expressed, I responded in ways that shut them down. I was defensive, I minimised, I tried to fix things instead of just listen. Even subtle reactions can communicate to someone that it’s not safe to be honest. 

When that happens consistently, your partner will stop bringing things to you. They’ll cease trying to communicate. Not because everything is fine, but because it doesn’t feel like it will go well if they do. When conversations don’t happen, the relationship becomes fragile. Not from direct conflict itself, but from the absence of the kind that actually resolves things.

A helpful way to think about this is how fire departments manage high-risk areas. Rather than just waiting around for a massive, catastrophic wildfire, they carry out controlled burns, clearing away built-up fuel before it becomes dangerous. It’s the same in relationships. 

Those tough conversations can feel threatening, but when there’s emotional safety, they act like controlled burns. They clear what’s been building and reduce pressure, creating space for understanding and growth.

Without them, everything stays hidden and the pressure builds until eventually something small sets it off. What looks like a sudden collapse is often the result of an accumulation of months, years or decades of unspoken frustrations. 

This is why emotional safety matters so much. It allows problems to be addressed early and conflict to be turned into something that strengthens rather than destroys.

So yes, communication does matter. But without emotional safety, it never really gets off the ground.

Work On Yourself, For Yourself

If emotional safety is foundational, why do so many of us struggle to create it for others? 

In my experience, it’s not a lack of intent, it’s a lack of capacity. When I was faced with difficult feedback, especially things that reflected back on me, I didn’t handle it well. I reacted in ways that shut it down. While I could justify those reactions at the time, the issue wasn’t the conversation itself, but my response to it.

I simply didn’t have the capacity to hear certain truths about myself. So when my partner would express how she felt, my instinct wasn’t to understand, but to defend, correct, escape or accuse her of what she was saying about me. In reality, that was what she was actually feeling. As a result, my avoidant responses weren’t solving anything—they were just invalidating her emotional world and damaging the relationship in the process. 

The best way forward would have been to build my capacity—not to only hear what she was saying, but to respond in a way that would lead to repair, not rupture. But that kind of change doesn’t come from surface level effort. It requires deeper work—understanding why something triggers you, why defensiveness shows up and why certain truths feel threatening.

This work has to be, at least primarily, intrinsically motivated.

When your relationship is on its last leg, it’s easy to become outcome-driven. You want to fix things, win them back, change their mind. But if that’s your chief motivation for doing the work, it will eventually stop.

If things start to improve, the urgency fades and the effort drops off, because it feels like you’ve done enough. If things don’t improve, the effort fades for a different reason—namely, because it seems like nothing is changing. Either way, the change doesn’t last.

That’s the problem with outcome-driven growth aimed at changing a person’s mind—it’s unstable because it depends on how the other person responds. The only sustainable path is to work on yourself, for yourself. Not to win someone back, to prove a point or to stop hearing things you don’t like—but to understand why you react the way you do and to learn to respond differently. 

When you do that kind of work, it changes the way you show up, not just in one relationship, but in all of them.

Don’t Need Them, Choose Them

When someone can’t manage their internal world, they often begin to rely on their partner to do it for them. Over time, this creates a lopsided dynamic, where one person becomes the caregiver and the other becomes the dependent, leaning on that support without learning to stand on their own. 

Of course, caring for each other is part of a relationship. But when one person avoids their own baggage and the other carries it, equilibrium is lost. One gives far more than they receive and over time leads to exhaustion and a growing sense of discontent for the person carrying the load.

Looking back at my relationship, I hadn’t developed the ability to manage my emotions. So when I found someone willing to shoulder that for me, it felt deeply satisfying. But satisfying doesn’t necessarily mean healthy.

Eventually, I began to operate from a place of need. Without realising it, I came to believe that I couldn’t live without this person. She was my whole world! 

We’ve all heard this idea—and maybe even sung along to it. Harry Nilsson sang, “I can’t live, if living is without you.” James Arthur sang, “You’re nobody ‘til somebody loves you.” And Whitney Houston sang, “I have nothing, nothing, nothing, if I don’t have you”. 

These ideas sound romantic in love songs, but they’re not so great in a relationship. The pressure it puts on the other person is enormous. It’s a weight no-one should have to bear.

I’m convinced a healthier approach is to come from a place of want, not need. Two people who retain their identity, take responsibility for themselves and choose to share their lives. There is care, love, commitment and support—but not absolute dependence. 

Getting there, of course, is a journey, especially if you already tend toward dependence. For me, learning about attachment styles and applying that knowledge to my situation has been hugely enlightening. It’s helped tremendously in understanding what’s been driving my behaviour in relationships and how to become better moving forward.

The last two years have been the most difficult and painful time of my life. But it’s also been incredibly fruitful. To anyone who’s gone through a long-term relationship breakdown, I’m so sorry. I know how hard it is. I know the feeling of a heartache so deep that it feels like it’s going to consume you. I know what it’s like to want to give up. 

But I also know there’s another side to the story. I know that you can get through this. And I know the brokenness can lead to healing.  

Name withheld for privacy

Feature image: Via Canva.com

Forgiveness isn’t about excusing wrongdoing or forgetting pain – it’s about freeing ourselves to move forward.

But understanding what forgiveness truly means, and how to extend it, requires a deeper look at this misunderstood concept. 

Psychologist Collett Smart, Vision Christian Radio CEO Phil Edwards, and chaplain and author Raewyn Elsegood explore the complex journey of forgiveness.

Understanding What Forgiveness Really Means 

To Phil, saying sorry and offering forgiveness are two different things.  

An apology comes from the person who caused harm. Forgiveness, however, is a choice made by the person who was hurt – a decision to accept the apology and refuse to remain bound by the pain. 

“Forgiveness is something that sets ourselves free and it doesn’t come intuitively,” Phil explains. “I don’t know that we do understand it that well, but we really benefit when we do [forgive].” 

Phil hears extraordinary stories of forgiveness through his work on national radio. He gives an example of a man from Adelaide who chose to forgive his dying father despite years of abuse. The decision wasn’t about excusing his father’s behaviour – it was about setting himself free from being bound by trauma.  

Phil says that forgiveness sits at the heart of grace, reminding us that we’re all imperfect and that the measure of grace we extend to others returns to us. 

The Journey Begins With Ourselves

Raewyn offers a perspective that challenges conventional thinking: the person we most need to forgive is often ourselves.  

Through her own journey and her work as a chaplain supporting others, she’s observed that self-forgiveness unlocks the ability to move forward and extend forgiveness to others. 

“The person we’re waiting to forgive is ourselves, and that is where the power [to forgive others] comes from,” Raewyn says. “Once we do that, then we take a few steps forward.” 

This self-reflection creates awareness about our own role in difficult situations, enabling us to say sorry where needed and extend forgiveness where it’s been withheld.  

Raewyn points to a simple truth: if we want others to forgive us, we must be willing to forgive them. While some may still be waiting for apologies that never come, the power of forgiveness lies in not allowing that wait to define our lives. 

The Science of Letting Go

Psychologist Collett Smart reveals that forgiveness produces measurable changes in our emotional, mental, and physical wellbeing. However, she emphasises that forgiveness cannot be forced or rushed – it must come when someone is ready, particularly after trauma or severe injustice. 

Collett explains that when we harbour resentment long-term, our bodies remain in fight-or-flight mode. This manifests as raised cortisol levels, increased heart rate, anxiety, depression, and poor sleep. We often lash out at others because we’re holding onto pain. Forgiveness breaks this cycle. 

“Forgiveness is often about you letting go and not letting the past define you or have power over you anymore,” says Collett. “When you release that or extend that forgiveness, you actually release something in yourself to keep moving forward.” 

Collett challenges the phrase “forgive and forget”, calling it simplistic. True forgiveness isn’t about pretending wrongs didn’t happen, and it doesn’t always mean restoration, especially when safety is at risk. What matters is finding a way to free yourself and move forward on your own timeline. 

Forgiveness is a gift we give ourselves. Whether we begin by forgiving ourselves, understanding grace, or recognising the health benefits of letting go, the path to forgiveness is profoundly liberating. 

Article supplied with thanks to Helping Hands TV.

About the Author: Helping Hands is an Australian produced TV program that airs on 9GEM, Channel 9 and 9NOW, and showcases people and organisations who make the world a better place.

Feature image: Via Canva.com

Many of life’s heaviest burdens are the ones we can’t see, as the constant cycle of remembering, planning, organising and caring quietly shapes each day.

The “mental load” has been getting a lot of airtime in some circles recently. 

What is it exactly?

Here’s one definition from a psychologist that came via a friend:

“The mental load is the invisible, ongoing physical, cognitive, emotional energy and effort required to manage daily life, a household and a career. And it goes beyond the physical completion of tasks because it includes the ongoing mental checking of remembering, anticipating, planning, organising so many parts of life, like groceries, bills, appointments, childcare. And it can often involve emotional work of monitoring and maintaining relationships as well as managing emotional states of your nearest and dearest. That seems to create sometimes the biggest load – the constant checking of, is everyone around me okay?

The mental load is traditionally framed in reference to mothers. But I would actually expand the definition. For example, when people move out of home, they might move in with flatmates, and there’s the question of who does what? What if they don’t take out the garbage or share their load of caring for the apartment? Another example is when the first baby enters a family. This can be a big transition for couples. And so the question is, how does this load get managed between the parents? And then there’s the other example of elderly parents. How do adult siblings navigate, who does what, when and how?” – Larissa, psychologist

The past 3 months for me have been particularly challenging. When asked, I will usually respond with we are just about coping, or that I’m still alive. It is hard to admit to anyone, even myself that I am finding it nearly impossible to physically staying awake long enough to:

• Work
• Manage my children’s school and daycare needs
• Maintain the house
• Keep my social battery charged
• Show up for agreed commitments
• Show up for extracurriculars at work that I cared about

In fact I’ve had to make some difficult choices as my capacity reached overload levels.

Four things have been helpful as I navigate this mental load:

1. Moving some tasks from manual to automatic

For me, clarity of values and priorities is the most important element of managing mental load. This is because once I am clear on what is most important, the mental load of worrying about whether I am doing enough or doing the right thing is removed entirely.

For instance, in order to serve my family well emotionally and spiritually, the house has to function. This means that while the living room does not need to be perfectly tidy every single day, the daily grind of things like laundry and packing children’s lunches are not negotiable. I find when things are put on the list of “cannot be dropped” they contribute less to my mental load because they happen automatically.

2. Adopting a minimum standard of care

Practically, I personally find the concept of “minimum standard of care” really helpful with managing my own mental load. Taken from Eve Rodsky’s book Fair Play and being similar in concept to workplace project delivery agile concept known as “Definition of Done” (I work as a Project Manager!), the minimum standard of care (MSC) is an agreed acceptable finish line for routine activities.

This can help reduce the worry (“What if my son is annoyed and hungry because lunch wasn’t what he wanted??”) and the blame (“If only he had packed the dishwasher the way I wanted…”). This is because it helps to shrink the misalignment between expectations and reality. It is about figuring out and agreeing (within each household) what “finished” looks like for a specific task and that no further explanations are needed or taking up valuable mental space.

If I ask my kindergartener to get dressed for school, he knows that he has to find a shirt, pants, jumper, socks and shoes. This means just saying “time to get dressed” is enough, and I don’t need to spend more effort mentally thinking about whether what he is putting on will be appropriate.

3. From Compulsion to Conviction

Once the MSC has a baseline, it is easier to work out how much extra “capacity” is available for the next most important things. This is where things that are non-urgent but still important have a place. Things like spending energy planning the next team event taking into consideration logistics, preferences of those attending, and helping the new person not feel excluded.

I can set aside specific capacity to do these things with conviction rather than compulsion because prioritising things consciously means I do not have FOMO (fear of missing out) for the things that were not able to be accomplished.

4. Following a person not a plan

A friend reminded me of this recently – followers of Jesus follow a person, and not a plan.

I find this such a good reminder because I’m big on planning (as I mentioned previously, I work as a Project Manager!) This means so much of how I approach life is driven by my desire to be seen as in control and competent. The pressure I put on myself is adding to my own mental load.

Jesus says: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” [Matthew 11:28-30]

I can come to Jesus and ask him to carry my burdens. He will be good to me.

It doesn’t mean I throw all planning out the window. I still plan, but try to hold my plans a bit more lightly, leaning into Jesus the burden carrier. When I can do that, I find I am less anxious and more adaptable.

Reflection questions

1. Where are you feeling the mental load at the moment?
2. What helps to fuel your mental load?
3. What could you change in terms of your approach to the mental load?
4. What will help make a difference?

Article supplied with thanks to Third Space.

Feature image: Via Canva.com

While we live in an increasingly competitive, uncaring world, compassion and care are often found in unexpected places.

On a recent holiday, I got to spend two nights in Seattle. Our hotel was a short stroll from the truly impressive Seattle Central Library with its extraordinary architecture- a creative mixture of glass, steel, large open spaces and unusual angles.

Bibliophile that I am I couldn’t resist a visit and thought I’d get a feel for the library’s priorities by noting what it was advertising on a large “What’s On” board.

Centre stage was a notice announcing a remembrance service for three “beloved community members”. Sceptic that I can be, and not having read the notice carefully, I assumed it was for three generous benefactors of the library, and then because I instinctively calculate the age at which people die, I noticed that all three of the men died relatively young – aged 60, 44, 47 years. Then I read the notice more carefully. This was not a service for three wealthy donors – but for three homeless men, whose names are to be engraved onto a bronze leaf and placed by a Tree of Life statue close to the library. It is an effort to make sure that every life is honoured and no name forgotten. They were homeless men whose closest home was the library – and they will be remembered.

To be honest, I found it very moving. We often lament that we live in an increasingly competitive, uncaring world. It’s not entirely true. Compassion and care are often found in unexpected places.

Homelessness is an increasing global crisis. It’s strongly linked to poverty and often to mental health. In my short walk to the library I was startled by a man engaged in a very angry conversation. No one was with him so I assumed he was on the phone, but then realised he was simply in a furious conversation with himself – not aware of anyone else in his vicinity, but clearly very unhappy. I suspect he has no home to go to, or to be more accurate, that the streets are his home, his only conversation partner, himself, and sadly, he doesn’t like himself much, so the conversation is pretty abusive.

This is not how life is meant to be lived – we all know that. Solutions are not easy to find, but perhaps a small start can be made when we remember that everyone has a name, and everyone has a story, and they aren’t all the same. And some stories are probably more intriguing than others. One of the men being remembered is Matthew “Happy” Walker. Oh I wonder where the “Happy” came from, and am glad that in some way he could be that, despite not having a conventional home. And I imagine he would be happy indeed to know that his name is about to be engraved on a bronze leaf and that it will not be forgotten.

In Matt 10:29-31 Jesus reminds us “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside of your Father’s care.” I am so grateful that the God who knows when each sparrow falls, knows and remembers each of our names – and sometimes prompts us to remember each others names as wel

Article supplied with thanks to Brian Harris.

About the Author: Brian is a speaker, teacher, leader, writer, author and respected theologian who is founding director of the AVENIR Leadership Institute, fostering leaders who will make a positive impact on the world.

Feature image: Via Canva.com

One thing that’s made an enormous difference in my life: learning to listen to God.

I believe the Holy Spirit wants to walk with us every day. Not just on Sunday mornings. Not just at church or a prayer meeting. God wants to be involved in our lives every hour. He wants to guide us.

Learning to Stop Doing Life in My Own Strength

Before becoming a Christian, I spent years trying to find the answers to life myself.

Back in the 1990s, I remember walking into a bookstore, and buying self-help books. There always seemed to be another book promising that if you followed 30 steps, your life would be transformed in 30 days.

Some contained good ideas. But there was one problem. They all depended on me having the strength to make everything work.

And I’ve discovered I’m not particularly good at doing life in my own strength.

When I became a Christian, God began teaching me something different.

Learning to Trust God With My Worries

One of my favourite passages is Philippians 4:6–7. It tells us not to be anxious, but to bring our concerns to God with thanksgiving and allow His peace to guard our hearts and minds.

Putting that into practice wasn’t easy.

I grew up in a household where worrying was almost a way of life. I often joke that Mum and Dad gave me a Harvard degree in how to worry.

For years after becoming a Christian, I prayed Philippians 4:6–7, but still struggled with anxiety.

Then one night something happened that changed my understanding of those verses.

A Storm Over Lake Macquarie

It was a Monday night in the middle of winter. I was heading to my men’s group and there was a huge storm over Lake Macquarie.

We had a 34-foot Beneteau yacht on a mooring near our home at Valentine.

Before leaving home, I had this strong sense that God was telling me, “Ken, you need to pray for your boat.”

So my wife Wendy and I prayed.

The weather became wild. Trees were coming down and there were reports of wind gusts reaching around 100 kilometres an hour.

But after praying, I went to men’s group and left the boat with God.

The Boat Was Gone

Later that night, I drove down to the boat ramp at Valentine and pointed my headlights towards the mooring.

The boat was gone.

So was the mooring.

Now, the old Ken would have panicked.

Instead, something completely unexpected happened.

I felt peaceful.

I went home to get a spotlight and told Wendy the boat was missing.

Her reaction wasn’t about the boat.

She looked at me and asked, “Are you okay?”

She knew something like this would normally send me into a complete panic.

But I was okay.

I went back to the lake and eventually spotted the boat several houses away, sitting safely against somebody’s wharf.

I knocked on the door and spoke to the owner.

He told me something extraordinary.

The yacht had broken free during the storm. Instead of crashing into the shoreline or other boats, this four-tonne yacht had moved sideways past eight or nine houses.

There happened to be one empty wharf because the owners had moved their boat to a marina the previous day for repairs.

My yacht stopped in front of that empty space and then appeared to back itself into the wharf.

The neighbours thought somebody must have been steering it.

When they shone a light onto the yacht, they discovered nobody was aboard.

I believe God protected that boat.

But looking back, I don’t think the boat was the biggest miracle that night.

The biggest miracle happened inside me.

For the first time, I experienced what I’d been reading in Philippians 4:6–7.

I had handed something completely beyond my control over to God. In the middle of a situation that should have had me terrified, He gave me peace.

That’s why listening to God matters.

It’s not about hearing some booming voice from heaven. It’s about learning to walk with Him, bringing Him into our everyday lives and becoming sensitive to those moments when He prompts us.

What Are You Facing Today?

Maybe you’re facing something you can’t control right now.

Talk to God about it.

You don’t need fancy words. You don’t need to know the Bible backwards. Just talk to Him like you would talk to a friend.

Tell Him what’s worrying you. Ask Him for help. Then start learning to leave it in His hands.

Life hasn’t suddenly become easy since I became a Christian. My family and I have faced some very difficult seasons.

But I’ve learnt that it’s possible to have peace even when life isn’t peaceful.

That’s the peace I discovered that stormy night on Lake Macquarie.

And that’s the peace I believe God wants each one of us to experience

Feature image: Canva.com

There’s something about the shift in season that makes starting fresh feel possible again. What if we applied that same instinct to our minds?

Spring has a way of making us want to open the windows, clear out the wardrobe, and finally deal with that drawer we’ve been avoiding.

Just like our homes accumulate clutter, so do our thoughts, emotions, and habits. Old worries pile up. Resentments sit in a corner collecting dust. Commitments we no longer want linger because we’re not sure how to let them go. A seasonal “spring clean” can be a helpful way to notice what’s been building up and decide what to do about it.

What is “mental clutter”?

It’s not always obvious when our minds need decluttering, because unlike a messy cupboard, this clutter is invisible. A few common forms include:

• Cognitive clutter: the same worry looping on repeat, or thinking in extremes (“I always mess this up”)
• Emotional clutter: feelings that never quite got processed, like a disagreement you’re still carrying weeks later
• Relational clutter: connections or obligations that leave you drained. rather than supported
• Behavioural clutter: habits or routines that made sense once, but no longer fit where you are now

A Simple Way to Sort Through It

Unlike decluttering your house, think of this less as “getting rid of” and more as sorting through. The idea is to notice what’s there, and be more intentional about what you carry forward.

If you want to try this for yourself, a simple three-column exercise can help:

Keep: thoughts, habits, or relationships that still serve you
Reassess: things you’re unsure about, that might need more thought or a conversation
Let go/loosen: things you’re ready to release, even if imperfectly or gradually

You don’t need to solve everything in one sitting. Even naming which category something falls into can bring a surprising amount of clarity and direction.

Reflection Questions

• What’s one thought I keep returning to that isn’t actually helping me?
• Is there a relationship or commitment that feels more obligation than choice right now?
• What’s a small habit I could adjust to match who I am this season, not last year?
• What have I been carrying that I haven’t had the chance to properly put down?

When It’s More Than a Spring Clean

Sometimes this kind of reflection surfaces things that feel bigger than a personal project such as old grief, long-held shame, patterns that seem to repeat no matter what you try. That’s a completely normal thing to discover, and it’s exactly what therapy is for. A season change can be a lovely nudge to reflect, but some clutter needs a second set of hands to sort through properly, so working with a professional can make good sense.

Article supplied with thanks to The Centre for Effective Living.

About the Author: Monica Jacob is a psychologist who seeks to collaboratively help her clients lead more meaningful, enriched lives. She has worked with mood disorders, anxiety disorders, substance use disorders, and adjustment difficulties.

Feature image: Via Canva.com

Chores aren’t just about cleaning the house.

According to child psychologist, Susan Woodworth, it’s important that our children contribute to the household, and part of this is taking part in jobs around the house.

“You want them to grow into responsible people who have an internal sense of being driven, responsibility. It keeps them engaged in your family even when there’s no one there to reward them.”

Pocket Money

When asked about incentivising it with pocket money, Susan said, “When we link pocket money to chores, we can actually undermine the thing that we’re trying to build in our children.”

“Imagine giving your child an allowance to scrub the toilet. They’d probably do it, but only as long as the money keeps coming. Once you stop giving them pocket money or the allowance, the toilet scrubbing is going to stop too.”

Susan reinforced the need for them to contribute to the family, home and society.

“You want them to be engaged, contributing members of their community.”

It Has to be Done

The reason we teach our children to do chores is not so they will learn about reward, but because they are learning that things need to get done and that collectively, we’re the ones to do it.

“It has to be done, and you actually like to use a clean toilet. It’s intrinsically motivating.”

Susan explains that there are two types of motivations.

“There’s extrinsic motivation, which comes from outside the person, such as rewards, sticker charts and pocket money. Intrinsic [motivation] is the inner drive to do something because it feels meaningful or worthwhile.”

If chores are only linked to pocket money, that drive will only last as long as the pocket money that is coming in.

“But if it’s intrinsic, they’ll want to do it because it actually feels good, it feels worthwhile, they want to help. And they like things clean.”

Belonging

Susan acknowledged that it is difficult to get teenagers to care about chores and to see the value in cleaning. But it’s actually about belonging.

“ When kids feel like valued members of the family, they want to contribute. It’s wired into us. Like as humans, we want to belong. So instead of framing chores as like this job we have to do, we can frame them as, this is how our family takes care of each other. This is how our family takes care of our home.”

Change the Language

“The language can change a bit. It’s their way of saying, ‘I love my family and I want to be part of the team helping it run’.”

Some families don’t even use the word chores or jobs. They simply add it to ‘things that help our family’ and they do the task together.

“Those small word changes can change how a child relates to the things you’re doing.”

Allowances

Susan said there is an allowance to giving your children an allowance based on chores.

“When there is bigger stuff, because it’s good for your children to have an allowance and pocket money as well. It’s good for them to learn to manage money and earn money. So for those above and beyond chores, like washing your car or weeding and mowing the lawn.”

She stressed it is more of an opportunity for them to understand how to earn money. Then they can weigh up effort and reward which is a skill they should be taught.

“Is it worth $5 to mow the entire lawn? Oh, actually, maybe it is,” she said.

“It’s about getting the system that works for your family, not the perfect system. It’s about staying connected to why you’re building those skills for the child that you’re going to guide into adulthood. You need to let your kids know that they belong to your family and your family runs on love and contribution and yes, even a clean bathroom every now and again.”

Article supplied with thanks to Sonshine.

Feature image: Canva