BubbleBabble

My dear friend,

Lately, I’ve been asking myself a question that sounds simple but feels deeper the more I sit with it:
What does it really mean to serve?

I’ve been going through a season of rediscovering my identity — who I am as a child of God and what it means to be called His servant. One verse that’s been following me everywhere is Isaiah 41:9, where God says:

“I took you from the ends of the earth,
from its farthest corners I called you.
I said, ‘You are my servant’;
I have chosen you and have not rejected you.”

Something about those words stirred my heart. You are my servant.
It felt both beautiful and heavy.

Because serving God sounds noble — but when you really try to live it, it can be hard. Especially when serving people starts to feel heavy, and you begin carrying their burdens as your own.

So this letter is for both of us — for the one who loves people deeply, who wants to serve well, but sometimes ends up feeling drained, burdened, or unsure what “serving” is supposed to be like.

When Serving Feels Heavy

I’ve always loved helping people. Listening, comforting, giving advice — it comes naturally. But lately, God has been showing me that sometimes my “help” turns into holding.

A friend confides in me, and I listen. I nod, I empathize, I pray. But when the conversation ends, I notice that their sadness lingers — not with them, but with me. Their worry becomes my worry. Their pain becomes my pain.

And suddenly, what started as love becomes weight.

At first, I thought this meant I was being compassionate. But slowly, I realized compassion and control are not the same thing. To serve people is not to fix them — it’s to walk with them toward Jesus.

Romans 12:15 reminds us:

“Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.”

We are called to feel with others, not to carry them.
Empathy means presence, not possession.

When serving feels heavy, it’s often because we’ve picked up a burden God never asked us to lift. We were meant to walk beside others — not in front of them, trying to carry their cross for them.

And so, I’ve been learning this gentle truth: when you serve from your own strength, you’ll always end up tired. But when you serve from His presence, you’ll end up filled.

Laying Burdens at the Foot of Jesus

There have been times when a friend poured out their heart to me, and I could feel my chest tighten — not because I didn’t care, but because I cared too much. I wanted to fix it. I wanted to find the right words, the perfect advice, the instant comfort.

But the truth is, I can’t fix what only God can heal.

God has been teaching me a new way of serving — one that doesn’t begin with my own wisdom, but with His Spirit.

Now, before I speak, I pause. Sometimes silently, I pray:
“Holy Spirit, what do You want me to say right now?”

And if I don’t feel any clear answer, I’ve learned that silence is also sacred. Because sometimes, loving someone doesn’t mean solving their problem; it means sitting beside them in prayer and helping them bring it to Jesus.

Serving isn’t about carrying someone’s burden alone — it’s about carrying it together to the foot of the cross.

1 Peter 5:7 says:

“Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you.”

That verse changed how I serve.
My job isn’t to collect burdens — it’s to help others cast them.

So now, when a friend shares something heavy, I imagine both of us placing it down before God. I picture His hands, open and ready. I remind myself: He is the One who carries, not me.

Serving becomes lighter when we realize we’re vessels, not saviors.

To Serve is to Love, and to Let Go

This is why, the more I think about it, the more I realize: to serve is simply to love; and to do this, it was by learning to let go.

We can listen all we want, but we cannot change someone’s circumstances. We are not the ones who heal hearts or transform lives — only God can do that. We are merely vessels, instruments through which He works.

Our role is not to carry the weight of someone’s burden, but to help anchor it — to gently guide it toward the cross and lay it down together at the feet of Jesus.

It may sound blunt, but I realized what the truth is: their problem is not mine to fix. Their problem is between them and God. Sometimes, we’re called to be mediators, to stand in the middle and point others toward Him — but never to play the role of savior. Because we will never have the strength or the mental capacity to carry what only He can hold.

Galatians 5:13 says:

“Through love serve one another.”

That verse has been echoing in my heart lately. Because love without service is hollow, but service without love is exhausting.

When we serve out of love, it becomes worship.
When we serve out of pride or guilt, it becomes weight.

So now, when I pray for others, I’ve learned to end my prayer with surrender:
“Lord, I lay this at Your feet. It’s Yours now.”

Because if I keep holding onto it, I start to believe it’s mine to fix — and that’s when serving turns into striving.

True serving means loving deeply, acting faithfully, and then letting go completely. Because in the end, only God has the power to change.

A Servant’s Heart

I think that there’s something freeing about realizing that being God’s servant isn’t about strength — it’s about surrender.

Some days, serving feels easy. Other days, it stretches you. You might be tired, unnoticed, or unsure if what you’re doing even matters. But God sees every small act of love.

When I read Isaiah 41:9–10 again, I see His reassurance more clearly now:

“I have chosen you and have not rejected you.
So do not fear, for I am with you;
do not be dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you.”

We serve because we are chosen, not because we are capable.
We serve because God is with us, not because we have everything figured out.

And maybe that’s what He’s been teaching me most in this season:
that serving isn’t about doing great things for Him, but about doing small things with Him.

Even the smallest act — a message to check on a friend, a quiet prayer, a smile — can become a moment of ministry when it’s done in love.

So, friend, if you’ve been feeling unsure of your purpose or tired from pouring out, let this be a gentle reminder: you don’t serve alone. The same hands that formed you are the hands that strengthen you to serve.

A Prayer for the Servant Heart

Lord, thank You for calling us
to serve You and Your people.
Teach us to serve not out
of pressure, but out of love.

Help us listen before we speak,
pray before we act,
and lay every burden at Your feet
when the day feels heavy.

Remind us that Your yoke is
easy and Your burden is light.
Fill our hearts with Your compassion,
and may every act of service
reflect not us — but You.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

So, dear friend, if you’ve been wondering what it means to serve, here’s what I’m learning:
To serve is to love others enough to lead them to Jesus —
and to trust Him enough to leave them there.

I hope you can journey through this season.

With love,