There’s a star-studded sky out my living room window, evidence of the day winding down. I shuffle to my kettle and pour water into my cup, let the tea leaves soak, then curl down into my chair in the corner of my living room and slow my mind, breathe. A blessed reprieve in the middle of unrelenting physical and mental health struggles. COVID left me wrecked in the wake of my husband winding up in the hospital multiple times, and my own long recovery that I never dreamed would last well over half a year.
These months have stretched long.
Crippling anxiety, sleepless nights where my mind howled and body begged for rest, every day was an uphill climb to get through.
Surrounding myself with a community of women I knew who would be praying for me, I geared up to get through each endless night, and wake on what little sleep I could get to a morning that still seemed gray and as if nothing was different.
I was running on fumes for what seemed like forever.
Friend, I don’t know what you’re dealing with right now, but if you’re anything like me, you may be looking around in bewilderment, searching for light and an answer. But I will tell you this: God is here, in this hurt, in this heartache. Though it may feel like you are going it alone, I promise you that our ever-loving Father has never once left.
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