Carried Through

“I walked far just to discover I was carried.”

Sometimes, at the end of a very successful day, we reach home, sit on the couch, with a cup of tea in our hands, taking a deep breath, with a smile on our face, we rewind the great day that we had, and on the edge of that smile, there comes a shade of pride and a feeling of, I made that happen. I made a great successful day happen. But what we don’t realise in those moments is that it was never our strength that carried us through the darkest valleys. We thought it was, our clever strategies, our late-night hustle, our polished skills honed over years of effort. We stood tall, convinced that every breakthrough was a testament to our talent, every obstacle overcome a victory of our own making. But looking back, with narcissism blurring the edges of memory, we forget to see the quiet truth, it was God who carried us, even when we felt like it was all our own doing.

There were seasons when exhaustion wrapped around us like chains. Deadlines loomed like mountains, relationships frayed at the seams, and health faltered under the weight of unspoken fears. In those moments, we pushed harder, believing that sheer willpower and smart decisions would pull us through. We celebrated small wins as if they were trophies earned solely by our grit. Yet, in the silence of sleepless nights, when doubt crept in and fear whispered that we weren’t enough, something, or Someone, held us steady. Doors we never knocked on swung open. Strength appeared from nowhere when our reserves ran dry. Coincidences aligned too perfectly to be chance. We called it luck, or timing, or “just how things worked out.” But deep down, a gentle knowing stirred, this was grace.

And we are reminded about His grace but yet fast forward, same couch, same sigh, same tea, same thought before we know it. In the glow of success, we raise our hands in self-congratulation, forgetting the unseen arms that lifted us when our legs gave way. When the promotion came after months of silent prayer we barely uttered, we credited our resume. When healing touched a loved one against all medical odds, we praised the doctors and our research. Even in the ordinary, waking to a new day with breath in our lungs and hope flickering anew, we assume it’s routine, our bodies and minds simply performing as programmed.

But God, He carries us in the hidden places. Like a father scooping up a weary child who insists, “I can walk!” He doesn’t scold our pride. Instead, He smiles with infinite patience and lets us believe in our steps while ensuring we never fall too far. His love is not loud or demanding; it’s the steady current beneath our frantic paddling, the wind at our backs when we think we’re sailing alone.

Today, couch – sigh – smile – tea and gratitude. Not for our skills, which are gifts themselves, but for the One who breathes life into them. For the times we stumbled yet landed safely. For the journeys we thought we navigated solo, only to realise footprints in the sand showed only one set, His.