Reflection 47: To the Friends I Don’t Text Back

Oh, I’m tired.

I’m tired as a person. I’m tired as a mom. I’m tired as a wife. I’m tired as a coworker. I’m just… exhausted. I feel like I could sleep for two weeks straight and still wake up tired.

There’s just so much.

I remember seeing a post once that said, “Before I had kids, I thought I was tired.” And I laughed because—yes. Yes, I did. I used to sit on the couch for four hours and think, wow, I’m exhausted. Now? I can’t even sit for four minutes without someone climbing on me. My son E literally climbs up my body and sits on my shoulder like a parrot… and he’s two and a half. This is my life now.

And on top of that, my voice is raspy from allergies, I’ve got a cough, my asthma is acting up… I just don’t know how we’re supposed to fit everything into a single day.

But I guess… we’re not.

We’re not supposed to be able to do everything. Because if we could, we’d be perfect—and we’re not. We’re human. We’re stretched thin. We’re dependent. And the only one who can truly sustain us, fix us, and carry us through all of this is the Lord.

I know that.

But knowing it and living it can feel like two different things some days.

There are days I want to skip work, drive home, crawl into bed, and sleep for hours. And honestly… that temptation is real. But instead, I keep going. And somewhere in the middle of all of it, I start to feel this weight—this guilt—that I’m letting someone down.

Because I am.

At least, that’s what it feels like.

I feel like I’m balancing all these plates, and no matter how hard I try, one of them is always slipping. And the one that hurts the most? My friendships.

I am not a good texter. Never have been. Not quick, not consistent, not reliable in that way at all. The people who love me know that… but that doesn’t stop the guilt.

Because when they text me and I don’t respond for days… weeks… sometimes longer… it sits on my heart.

I’m specifically thinking about two people—Rona and Jackie. They have walked through life with me. College, hard seasons, moments that broke me—they were there. They are there. And I love them deeply.

They are my people.

And yet… I feel like I fail them.

I don’t know if they fully realize how much they mean to me, but if I needed someone—really needed someone—they’re who I would call. Without hesitation.

And still… I don’t answer.

Not because I don’t care. Not because they’re not important. But because my brain feels like it’s at capacity. Because I’m drowning in the roles I’m trying to hold together—mom, wife, employee, business builder—and sometimes I can only handle what’s directly in front of me.

And they’re not in front of me.

So they get pushed… unintentionally… to the side.

And I hate that.

I hate that I miss them. I hate that I feel like I’m constantly dropping the ball. I hate that there’s this lingering guilt that never really goes away.

But I also know this…

I don’t want my friendships to become a task on a checklist. I don’t want to get to a point where I’m thinking, okay, did I text them this week? Check. Done. I don’t want it to feel forced or transactional.

I want it to be real. I want it to be joyful. I want it to be something I get to do—not something I feel like I have to complete.

Because I love them.

Deeply. Unconditionally.

I just… wish they were closer. Because for the way my brain works, for the way I function, it would be so much easier to love them well in person.

But right now, this is where I am.

So I guess… this is an apology.

And maybe also a reminder—for me and for you—that if you feel like you’re letting people down… you’re not alone.

You’re not alone in the overwhelm.
You’re not alone in the guilt.
You’re not alone in trying your best and still feeling like it’s not enough.

And to the people I love… I’m sorry.

I’m trying.

And I love you more than my silence could ever make it seem.