Forever Holding You Up

Chronicles of Kayla | Dirt Road Anthem

There was a time when holding you up was something I could do with my own two hands.

For 15 years… I carried you.

And I don’t mean that lightly—I mean physically, fully, without hesitation. From the days when you were small enough to rest easy on my hip…
to the years when people started to say, “He’s too big now… you shouldn’t be carrying him anymore.”

I remember snapping back once—clear as day:
“I will carry him the rest of his life if he wants me to.”

You were 8… maybe 10.
Half my size.
Full of grit even then.

But the truth is—I meant it.
And I lived it.

I carried you before the world met you.
I carried you every time you asked.
I carried you on the hardest days.
I carried you at 15.

And when people would ask, “How do you do it?”
or say, “You’re so strong…”

I never really had an answer.

Because the truth is—
as a mom… you just do it.

You don’t measure the weight.
You don’t stop to calculate the cost.
You don’t consider your own strength running out.

You just carry.

Because your child is carrying something heavier.

And if he was strong enough to carry the world on his shoulders…
then the least I could do was carry him in my arms.

Looking back now—through photos, through videos, through moments I didn’t fully see while I was in them…
I can see it.

The toll.
The physical wear.
The quiet exhaustion.

The way my body was giving everything it had… even when I didn’t realize it.

Because I wasn’t focused on me.

I was focused on you.

And now… here I sit.

In the stillness.
In the prayers.
In the conversations that don’t sound the same—but somehow feel just as real.

Talking to God.
Talking to you.

And I’m realizing something that humbles me to my core—

I would have carried you forever.

But now…

Now you’re carrying me.

I feel it in the quiet moments.
In the strength that shows up when it shouldn’t.
In the peace that doesn’t make sense.

That steady, familiar whisper of “push on.”

The same quiet strength you carried so well…
is now holding me up.

This world is heavy.

Some days it feels like more than we were ever meant to carry.
Grief.
Loss.
Questions with no answers.
Weight that settles deep in your bones.

But here’s the truth I’m holding onto—

We were never meant to carry it alone.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
— Matthew 11:28

God doesn’t ask us to be strong enough.

He asks us to come to Him.

Because His strength is greater than anything this world can place on our shoulders.
And our faith—when we lean into it—is stronger than the weight we carry.

This world is not our forever home.

And while that truth doesn’t take away the ache…
it gives purpose to the pain.

It reminds me that what we’re holding onto here…
is only temporary.

But what’s waiting ahead—
that’s eternal.

So if you’re carrying something heavy right now…
if your arms feel tired…
if your heart feels worn…

You don’t have to keep holding it up on your own.

Lay it down.

Let God step in.
Let Him carry what you were never meant to.

And trust that somehow—
even in the breaking—
He’s still holding you up.

Scripture to Hold Onto

Isaiah 40:29
“He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.”

A Prayer for the Heavy-Laden

Lord,

For the ones carrying more than they ever thought they could…
for the hearts that feel worn, tired, and stretched thin—

Meet them right where they are.

Lift the weight they’ve been trying to hold on their own.
Remind them they were never meant to do this without You.

Give strength where there is weakness.
Peace where there is pain.
And rest where there is exhaustion.

Wrap them in Your presence,
and let them feel Your steady hands holding them up.

Even when everything feels like it’s falling apart.

We trust You with the heavy things.
And we thank You for never letting us carry them alone.

Amen.

Dirt Road Anthem Podcast coming soon!🎙️