07/06/2025
I described my pain to chat gpt and this is the image that was created. This is just a glimpse into what I see and feel on the inside. Lana said this looked scary… thank goodness people can’t see inside because it would be so much more than just scary. But…
Even in the Dark, He is Still God
There are places in the soul that words cannot reach — places hollowed out by grief, where silence echoes louder than any scream. I have walked through those places. I live there still.
Ten years ago, I buried my child. A piece of my heart was placed in the ground with him. And now, just months ago, I laid to rest my husband — my partner, my refuge, my home of 22 years. And what was left of me was now gone too. The silence in my house is now the sound of my sorrow.
I have felt lost. Shattered. Like the wind could blow what’s left of me away.
And yet.
Even here, in the thickest darkness, there is a flicker that won’t go out. A whisper I still hear: “I am with you.” Jesus, the Man of Sorrows, acquainted with grief, sits beside me in the ashes. He does not rush me to the light. He doesn’t demand I smile. He simply stays.
There is pain that won’t be fixed by time, only carried. And somehow, I am learning to carry it with Him. The cross was heavy too.
The darkness can be consuming. It speaks lies — that God has forgotten, that healing will never come, that hope is just a word. Doubt creeps in like fog, slow and quiet, wrapping itself around everything you once believed. But faith is not the absence of doubt. Even the disciples, who walked with Jesus, questioned and feared. In our humanity, we are not disqualified by our weakness — we are invited to choose anyway. To look up, even with tear-filled eyes. To say, “Still, I will trust You.”
Hope is not always a bright light. Sometimes, it is just a single candle you shield with trembling hands. But that little flame can still push back the night.
So if you are grieving, if you are broken, if you have no words left to pray — know this: You are not alone. There is no valley too deep for God to find you. He is not afraid of your sorrow. He does not grow weary of your tears.
I don’t have many answers. But I do have Jesus. And somehow, that is enough.
“Lord, I believe; help my unbelief.” — Mark 9:24