Hold It Together

Podcast available on Apple Podcast, Spotify, or your favourite streaming platform!

In him all things hold together. Colossians 1:15-20

When was the last time you felt drained or overwhelmed, like you couldn’t quite hold it all together?

Not because of one dramatic crisis, but because of the steady accumulation of ordinary life. The emails that never stop. The relationships that require constant emotional presence. The pressure to make wise decisions, raise good humans, steward your gifts, remain faithful, stay hopeful, and somehow still be at peace. Many of us feel as though we are one dropped ball away from everything unraveling.

We live in a cultural moment that quietly but persistently tells us that a good life is one we can manage well. With enough discipline, effort, and self-awareness, we should be able to hold things together. We are encouraged to curate our lives carefully—our work, our families, our friendships, even our spiritual practices—so that nothing falls too far out of alignment. And when we feel exhausted or overwhelmed, we often assume the problem is personal failure: we are not organized enough, resilient enough, prayerful enough.

Consider if the crippling weight we are carrying may not be a sign of weakness, but of misplaced responsibility.

Here’s what I mean, Scripture continually exposes a sobering truth: when we look to created things to sustain us, they are crushed under the weight of our expectations. Even the best gifts cannot bear the burden of our ultimate meaning or security.

• Your work cannot meet all your needs for value and self-worth. When we try to make it so, success never satisfies for long, and failure cuts far too deeply.

• Your spouse cannot meet all your needs for love and affection. No human relationship can carry the weight of being someone’s savior.

• Your children and grandchildren cannot meet all your needs for emotional connection or legacy. When they do, love becomes pressure and expectations become unbearable.

• Your friends cannot meet all your needs for belonging. They were meant to walk with you, not complete you.

• Even your hobbies, philanthropy, or work for God’s kingdom cannot meet all your needs for purpose. When service replaces surrender, even good work becomes exhausting.

None of these things are bad. In fact, that is precisely the danger. They are good gifts from God, but they were never designed to hold us together. When we ask them to do what only God can do, they fracture under the strain—and so do we.

This is why Paul’s words in Colossians 1 are not merely comforting; they are foundational. Writing to a church tempted to add to Jesus—to supplement him with other sources of wisdom, security, or power—Paul does not offer advice or techniques. He offers a vision of Christ so expansive it reshapes reality itself.

“He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For by him all things were created… all things have been created through him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together” (Colossians 1:15–17). It’s one of my favorite passages in all of Scripture. Not because in it I find all the answers to my problems or the validation for my actions, but the assurance that I’m held by Someone bigger than me.

Jesus is not presented here as a helpful teacher or a spiritual enhancement to an already full life. He is revealed as the eternal Son of God, uncreated, preexistent, and supreme. All things came into being through him. All things exist for him. And astonishingly, all things continue to exist in him.

Paul is telling us that creation does not simply begin with Christ—it continues because of Christ. The universe is not held together by human effort, natural laws, or sheer momentum. It is sustained moment by moment by the powerful word of Jesus Christ (Hebrews 1:3). Reality itself depends on him. This means something profoundly liberating for us: Jesus is the only one who can truly hold it all together. Be encouraged—you were never meant to.

Many of us live as though the stability of our lives depends on our competence, our consistency, or our ability to keep everything from falling apart. We carry responsibilities God never assigned to us. We try to be the glue holding our families together, the source of our own worth, the architect of our future, the manager of our peace. And when we inevitably fail, we grow anxious, tired, or quietly resentful.

But Scripture invites us to a different posture. If Christ is before all things and in him all things hold together, then our lives are not as fragile as they feel. They are not ultimately sustained by our control, but by his presence. Our role is not to hold everything together, but to live in trustful dependence on the One who already does.

St. Augustine famously described this struggle as a problem of disordered loves. We love the right things in the wrong order. Our hearts attach ultimate importance to what was meant to be secondary, and secondary importance to what is ultimate. The result is not freedom, but exhaustion.

Work becomes our identity. Relationships become our refuge. Achievement becomes our assurance. Even spiritual disciplines can become a way of managing God rather than resting in him. We do not stop loving good things—we simply ask them to carry too much weight.

Augustine wrote, “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.” Restlessness is often a sign that something good has taken the place of something ultimate.

When Jesus is not first, everything else becomes too heavy. Yet the invitation of the gospel is not to abandon these loves, but to reorder them. When Jesus holds the rightful place in our lives—when we submit to his supremacy over all things—we are freed to receive God’s gifts as gifts rather than as gods. Work becomes meaningful but not ultimate. Relationships become joyful but not salvific. Service becomes an act of worship rather than a source of worth.

To confess that Jesus is before all things is to acknowledge that he does not compete with the rest of our lives—he gives them coherence. To trust that in him all things hold together is to release the crushing illusion that everything depends on us.

This does not mean our lives suddenly become easy or free from struggle. But it does mean we no longer carry the unbearable burden of self-sufficiency. We are preserved, sustained, and held by Christ even when we feel scattered, tired, or unsure.

Perhaps the most hopeful truth in Colossians 1 is that Jesus holds all things together whether we recognize it or not. Our faith does not prop him up; his faithfulness upholds us. When we are weak, distracted, or overwhelmed, he remains constant.

So if you are tired today—physically, emotionally, spiritually—hear this gentle reminder: you were never meant to hold it all together. Finite, created things will always crumble beneath your feet. But Jesus will not. He is before all things. And in him, all things—including you—are held together.

What’s in the Ears

This is the part where I share a song or podcast I’m currently into. This song is appropriately titled You Hold It All Together by Chandler Moore and Maverick City Music. Let me know if you check it out!

If this stirred something in you, share this post with a friend or drop a comment below. I’d love to hear what small step you’re taking towards the flourishing life today! And don’t forget to subscribe so you don’t miss a thing.

Podcast available on Apple Podcast, Spotify, or your favourite streaming platform!