In late spring, we had one of those hot, bright Texas days where the sun feels like it’s pressing down. My five-year-old son, Lane, was out on the soccer field, running after the ball. He was sluggish at first—he’s always been more sensitive to the heat than the other boys—but the moment he got near the ball, something clicked. He turned it on. He was giving it his all, doing his best, and you could tell he was having fun.
But here’s what struck me most: when it was his turn to rotate off the field, he didn’t try to hide his exhaustion. He just let himself fall to the ground, flat on his back, his head on my lap, arms stretched out like he didn’t have a care in the world. And then, just as easily, he sat up, moved over to the bench, and leaned his head on the shoulder of the boy next to him, like it was the most natural thing in the world. They started talking, and I couldn’t help but smile.
He wasn’t worried about how he looked or what anyone thought of him. He just assumed he was accepted. It didn’t even occur to him that he might not be.
And as I watched him, I couldn’t help but think back to when I was his age. I played soccer for one year—just one. And I remember how different it felt for me. I wasn’t out there thinking, Here I am. I was thinking, How do I need to be? Every moment on that field, I was filtering the world through this lens of, What do they think of me? Am I good enough? Am I doing this right?
I kept my distance from the other boys, from the world, really. If they only knew me partially, I thought, maybe they’d fill in the gaps with what they wanted me to be. Maybe they’d assume the best. I didn’t dare let them see all of me in case I would come up too short.
And the thing is, that way of thinking didn’t stay on the soccer field. It followed me. It became my normal. Even as an adult, I found myself asking, How do I need to be? instead of just showing up as I was. In meetings, in friendships, even in moments where I should’ve felt safe, I was still holding back, still trying to figure out what version of me would be most acceptable.
It’s exhausting, isn’t it? Living like that. And yet, for so many of us, it’s all we’ve ever known.
But watching my son that day, it was clear he didn’t carry that filter I had. He doesn’t deeply question whether he’s enough—he just assumes he is.
Tools to Just Be
I let that freedom my son felt to inspire some tools to help us experience more moments of peace. They are practices you can carry into your life to experience that same kind of freedom Lane showed me on the field. Let’s walk through them together:
- The “Flat on Your Back” Reflection
This is about giving yourself permission to rest and release the pressure to perform. Find a quiet space where you can lie down flat on your back, just like Lane did. Close your eyes and take a few deep breaths. Ask yourself: What am I carrying right now that I don’t need to carry? Where am I trying too hard to prove myself? As you exhale, imagine releasing those burdens and letting yourself just be. This isn’t just rest—it’s a declaration that you don’t have to earn your worth. - The “Bench Connection” Practice
Lane didn’t hesitate to lean on his teammate’s shoulder, and later, on mine. It was a reminder of how powerful it is to let ourselves be seen and supported. Think of one person in your life who feels safe—someone you trust. Reach out to them and share something real about where you are right now. It could be as simple as, “Hey, I’ve been feeling a little overwhelmed lately, and I just wanted to share that with you.”Notice how it feels to let yourself be seen without filtering or performing. Vulnerability isn’t weakness—it’s freedom. - The “Play Like a Kid” Exercise
Watching Lane play with such joy, even skipping on the field, reminded me of how often we forget to just have fun. Set aside 15 minutes to do something purely for fun—no agenda, no outcome, just play. It could be kicking a ball around, dancing to your favorite song, or doodling in a notebook. As you play, remind yourself: I don’t have to earn this joy. I’m allowed to just be. - The “Assume Acceptance” Mindset
Lane didn’t question whether he was loved or accepted—he just assumed it. What if you could do the same? Before entering a social situation, take a moment to pause and repeat this affirmation: “I am already enough. I am already accepted.” As you interact with others, notice when the urge to perform or prove yourself arises. Gently remind yourself: “I don’t need to be extra. I can just be.” This mindset shift can change everything about how you show up in the world. - The “God’s Lap” Visualization
When Lane rested his head on my lap, it was such a picture of trust and comfort. It reminded me of the kind of peace we can find in God’s presence—the kind where we can just let go, knowing we’re safe, loved, and accepted. I want to invite you into that same feeling
Take a moment to close your eyes. Picture yourself as a child, tired from the day, climbing into God’s lap. Imagine Him as a loving Father—strong, steady, and full of kindness. Picture His arms wrapping around you, His hand resting gently on your back. See the warmth in His eyes as He looks at you, not with judgment or expectation, but with pure delight. Let yourself feel the safety of that moment, the assurance that you don’t have to do anything to earn His love. You’re already enough. You’re already His.
The Best Place to Just Be—In God’s Presence
God is the ultimate source of comfort and strength. He’s the one who knows every part of you—the good, the messy, the parts you try to hide—and He loves you fully, just as you are. He’s the one who says, “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28) Let yourself rest in that truth. Let yourself feel held by the One who created you, who delights in you, and who has good things for you.
The truth is, the best place to ‘just be’ is in the presence of God. There’s no striving there. No performing. No need to prove yourself. In His presence, you are fully known and fully loved, exactly as you are. The freedom to rest, connect, play, trust, and feel loved isn’t something you have to chase. It’s already yours. You just have to let yourself experience it.
“Be still, and know that I am God.” Is not just a command—it’s an invitation. An invitation to step out of the chaos of life, out of the noise in your mind, and into the quiet, steady presence of the One who created you. And when you’re in His presence, you don’t have to have all the answers. You don’t have to fix yourself, figure everything out, or feel a certain way. There is no striving or performing. You just have to show up. And in that stillness, God does the work. He restores. He heals. He reminds you of who you are and whose you are.
Lastly, I want you to know you aren’t defined by how “extra” you are able to be. You’re are defined by the One who calls you His. The one who invites you to come to Him and just be.
You’ve got this! And God’s got you.