When Obedience Becomes Exhausting

Do you sometimes find Christianity exhausting? I know I do, but should I?

Sometimes I feel worn thin by the effort to obey. I am called to love the unlovable, to forgive when it hurts, to surrender when I’d rather take control. Christian obedience, for all its goodness and rightness, can be exhausting. I wonder if I’m chasing the form and missing the very essence.

It’s easy—even as sincere believers—to drift into a mindset that’s more focused on how we live than who we live for. We want to be faithful, obedient, and Christlike. But when our thoughts center more on our performance than on Christ’s finished work, we risk turning the Christian life into a burdensome checklist rather than a grace-filled journey.

Obedience matters, but it must be rooted in the gospel of grace.

The Drift Toward Man-Centered Thinking

In our desire to live faithfully, we often focus on how to obey—how to walk in purity, humility, generosity, and love. These are good and necessary truths. But if we’re not careful, we begin to think more about measuring up than being recipients of grace. We may think we are correct, but the reality is we fail because we don't magnify Christ.

This emphasis on behavior, often heard in sermons and teaching, though well-intentioned, can quietly shift our mindset. That’s something I’ve noticed in my own walk. I find myself focusing more on how to live rightly and obey better. I gauge my spiritual health on “how good I am doing as a Christian.” And while obedience is a good desire, it can quietly become a burden when it is not anchored in the finished work of Jesus. I begin to think more about what I must do than what Christ has already done. If I lose the perspective of grace, Christianity is exhausting, stressful, and joy starts to fade.

The Gospel That Grounds Me

The focus of the gospel is not how well I’m performing, but rather how deep I’m trusting and believing. I am saved by faith. The gospel reminds me:

• Jesus didn’t just open the door to salvation—He is my salvation.

• I have to remind myself daily that He walks the path with me, empowering every step.

• He didn’t just forgive me once—He intercedes for me daily, holding me fast.

I’m learning I need to re-center my thinking. Before I ask, “How should I live today?” I want to contemplate, “What Christ has already done for me.” Before I strive to obey, I want to rest in grace. Before I measure my worth by my actions, I want to remember the cross.

This isn’t about ignoring obedience—it’s about remembering its source. Grace teaches me to say no to ungodliness (Titus 2:11–12), but only when I’m rooted in the reality that I’ve already been made righteous in Christ. The words Jesus said are, "It is finished," not, "Finish the job."

My faith must rest in the efficacy of Christ.

A Christ-Centered Mindset

The Christian life is not built on our performance—it’s built on Christ’s finished work. The cross is not just the doorway into faith; it’s the foundation, the fuel, and the daily reminder that our hope is not in ourselves, but in Him.

When we seek obedience without anchoring it in the gospel, we risk creating a man-centered theology. We subtly shift the focus from what Christ has done to what we must do. And though the commands of Scripture are holy and good, they were never meant to stand alone. They are always rooted in grace.

Consider Paul’s words:

“Forgive one another, as God in Christ forgave you.” (Ephesians 4:32)

“Walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us.” (Ephesians 5:2)

And again, consider how Paul speaks of Christ’s love is his motivation for how he lives:

“For the love of Christ controls us, having concluded this, that one died for all, therefore all died; and He died for all, so that those who live would no longer live for themselves, but for Him who died and rose on their behalf. (2 Corinthians 5:14-15)

Every command in Scripture flows from a deeper reality: Christ has already done the work. This is why each of Paul’s letters begin by grounding the reader in the work of Christ in the beginning chapters before writing about how to live in the latter chapters.

We obey not to earn favor, but because we’ve already received it. We live holy lives not to prove ourselves, but to reflect the One who made us holy.

Let us pursue obedience—but let us never forget to fix our eyes on Christ. Let our minds be soaked in grace, our thoughts anchored in the cross, and our encouragement rooted in resurrection hope. Because when Jesus is magnified, our hearts are transformed.

Closing Thought

Jesus said,

"Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light” (Matthew 11:29–30).

Have you ever read this passage and wondered, why doesn’t my burden feel light? 

I often hear it taught as a call to submit to Christ—and while it’s true that we must submit to Jesus as Lord, focusing only on submission can cause us to miss the deeper invitation.

What makes His yoke light is not the absence of obedience, but the absence of prideful striving. When we try to earn righteousness through our own effort, obedience becomes exhausting. We fall short, compare ourselves to others, and rely on our own strength. But when we humbly receive the finished work of Christ and learn from His gentleness, obedience becomes a response to love, not a performance for approval.

In His humility, we find rest.

In His grace, we find strength