There’s a chance you wouldn’t believe me if I told you what my past few weeks have looked like. One friend, grasping for what to say landed on, “I have no words for your latest mess.” I couldn’t help but laugh at the truth and ridiculousness of that statement. Sometimes, if you’re not laughing, you’re crying.
Micah Tyler’s lyrics to his song “Even Then” have been a treasure to my heart this week:
“Even in the thick of the battle
And even through the valley of the shadows
You alone are my defense when
I’m standing on your promises.
Even when it feels like my world is shaken
Even when I’ve had all that I can take
I know You never let me go.
And even when the waters won’t stop rising
Even when I’m caught in the dead of the night
I know no matter how it ends
You’re with me even then.”
What I am learning through this uncomfortable time of stretching is that affliction is not always a sign of God’s absence; it can often be an instrument of His grace. Hardship strips away temporary distractions, exposes false reliance, and refines our character so that we value divine truth over temporary comfort.
When the ground beneath us shakes, our natural reaction is to reach out and grab anything that feels stable. But so often, the things we reach for—our plans, our control, our own strength—turn out to be as fragile as the situation we’re trying to escape.
This season has forced my hands open. I’ve had to let go of the need to fix the unfixable, to stop trying to write my own happy ending, and to simply sit in the quiet reality that I am not the one holding my life together. God is. He doesn’t just show up after the storm clears to help us pick up the pieces; He is present right in the middle of the rising waters, when the night is at its absolute darkest.
If you find yourself navigating your own version of a “latest mess” right now, I hope you hear this: you don’t have to pretend it isn’t hard, and you certainly don’t have to carry it alone. It is entirely okay to laugh at the absurdity, weep over the pain, and feel weary all at once. I was reminded today that grace meets us right where we are, not where we think we should be.
The valley may be deep, and the battle may feel fierce, but the end of your strength is the beginning of His supply. Take a deep breath. You are held, you are seen, and even then—especially then—He is with you.
Choosing Hope 