Faith Through the Fire

There are some stories in the Bible that we read from a distance. And then there are stories that somehow end up reading us. Lately, I have found myself sitting in the book of Job, not because I wanted to, but because I understand him in a way I never thought I would.

Job lost so much in such a short span of time that people could not comprehend how he was still standing. One moment he was surrounded by everything familiar, and the next, life looked completely different. His world shifted beneath his feet.

I know that feeling.

In less than a year, I have stood at the graveside of my daughter. I have questioned relationships that once felt certain. I have watched grief touch people I love. I have carried burdens that no one can see by simply looking at me.Some days I have felt like Job sitting in the ashes, trying to make sense of a life I no longer recognize.

Not because I lost my faith. But because I lost what was familiar. The version of me that existed before grief is gone. The version of my family before loss is gone. The plans I once held tightly are gone. And yet somehow, I am still here.

Job Didn’t Lose God

One of the greatest misconceptions about Job is that his story is about loss. It isn’t. His story is about what remained after the loss. Everything around him changed, but God never moved. Before Jahmya transitioned, I believed with all my heart that God was going to perform a MIRACLE. And He did. It just wasn’t the miracle I was expecting. I wanted healing here.

God gave her healing there. I wanted more time. God gave her eternity. I wanted answers.

God gave me His presence.

And if I’m honest, there are days when that still hurts.

There are days when my heart asks questions my faith can’t immediately answer. There are days when I sit in silence because the pain is louder than the scripture I’ve memorized. But just like Job, I am learning that faith is not the absence of questions.

Faith is choosing to stay when the answers don’t come.

To the Grieving Mother

I know you miss your child. There are moments when the world keeps moving while your heart remains frozen in the moment everything changed. I know what it feels like to smile for people while secretly wondering how you’re supposed to survive another day without them. But hear me out! Your grief is not evidence that you are weak. It is evidence that you loved deeply. You don’t have to rush through your feelings, explain your tears or pretend you’re okay. Even Job mourned. Even Job cried. Even Job questioned. And God never condemned him for it. So if today all you can do is breathe, then breathe. If all you can do is survive, then survive.

THAT IS ENOUGH!

To the Married Couple Hanging On By a Thread

Sometimes grief enters a marriage and exposes every crack that was already there. How do I know? I’m NAVIGATING through it with my husband today. The pain became so loud we stopped hearing each other. The loneliness became so heavy, we began wondering if we were even standing on the same side anymore.

You start asking questions like,

“Do they understand me?”

“Do they even see me?”

“Can we survive this?”

The truth is. grief changes both people. Not just one. Both. And sometimes two hurting people struggle to love each other because they’re trying to survive themselves. But surviving together requires GRACE. It requires remembering that the person standing across from you is carrying pain too.

Not the same pain.

Not in the same way.

But pain nonetheless.

Sometimes healing doesn’t begin when two people find the perfect words. Sometimes healing begins when they simply decide not to leave the table.

To stay.

To listen.

To try again.

To the Person Longing for Family

There is a unique ache that comes from wanting connection. Wanting to belong. Wanting to feel chosen. Wanting relationships to be deeper than they are. Many people carry that longing quietly.

They show up.

They support.

They love.

And yet they still wonder if they truly have a place.

I want you to know that your value is not determined by how well others embrace you. You do not have to earn your worth, audition for acceptance or shrink yourself hoping someone finally makes room. The right relationships don’t require you to beg for belonging. Love has a way of making room.

What Job Taught Me

Job’s story didn’t end because he finally understood everything. His story changed because he realized God was still present in the middle of everything.

That is where I find myself today. I don’t have all the answers. I still miss my daughter every single day. I still have moments where grief catches me off guard. I still have days where my heart feels tired.

But I am learning what Job learned. God is still God in the ashes. God is still God in the silence. God is still God when my heart is broken. And maybe that’s the lesson. Not that we will never suffer. Not that we will never question. Not that we will never grieve. But that even in the middle of our deepest heartbreak, we are never abandoned.

Like Job, I am still standing. Not because I am strong.

But because God has been holding me up the entire time. And if you’re reading this while carrying your own heartbreak, I pray you remember this! You may feel shattered, forgotten or like you’ve lost everything.

But your story is not over. The same God who sat with Job in the ashes is sitting with you now.

And that means there is still hope. 🌻🦋

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”  Psalm 34:18