I got a taste of what my heart wanted, then the door closed again, and that kind of pain hits like a truck.
Fear says, ‘This is too much, I can’t keep going.’
But faith says, ‘Jesus is still holding me when my hands are shaking.’
What you felt today does not mean you are weak.
It means you love your daughters for real.
And when love gets separated, the heart hurts, plain and simple.
I have no issues with the tears, the ache, the quiet after the visit, but when that pain starts telling you a lie, you got to answer it.
Don’t say, “I’m empty, so I’m done.”
Say, “I’m hurting, but I’m still here, and Jesus is still here with me!”
That’s the move.
Not trying to carry the whole next year tonight.
Just the next breath.
Just the next prayer.
Just the next hour.
And listen, grief loves to whisper condemnation, but it does not get the final word.
You are not abandoned.
You are not forgotten.
God never quits!
When David lost his little son, he said he could not come back to him, but he would go to him.
That’s the kind of hope that keeps a man standing when his legs feel soft.
So tonight, keep it simple.
Eat something.
Sit still for a minute.
Talk to Jesus in plain words.