
Circumstances get harder, people disappoint you, expectations are frustrated, and soon you’re putting up walls to protect yourself from taking more damage. In that place it’s hard to see anything good, so you quit trying. Hope continues to leach out of you, leaving your heart as hard as the walls around it. You see and feel nothing, and the nothingness becomes your new normal.
Then, you see . . . something. It reminds you of how it felt to be happy. There’s a spark in your heart. You hear a whisper there, God asking you to take a stone out of the wall—not so you can go back to who you were, but to become who you can be. You pull on the keystone, engraved “trust,” and with some effort, it gives way. The walls collapse, revealing you to bright, warm light.
Your sight begins to adjust. You remember how to see life from God’s perspective, and with it comes hope, joy, peace, and grace. A long–lost sense of awe and wonder rises again, as revelations of how greatly you’re loved wash over you. At first it’s too much, but then your heart and mind soak it in, saturated with God’s presence. You know—truly know—you’re not alone. You’re never alone.
“Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen and help you . . . I will uphold you, and give you justice” (Isaiah 41:10).
