“What am I going to do now?”

It was the question I didn’t want to be asking myself.

Sitting in a parking lot with my seatbelt still strapped tight across my chest, I could feel the grief rippling across my chest in waves. I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white as I let the tears fall.

I received some bad news that afternoon. It was the kind of news that loomed over my head like an impending doom. In a way, pieces of my life, pieces that I had held dear, had been ripped from me and I knew things were never going to be the same again.

My kids sat confused in the backseat. But there were no words. I had no idea how to explain any of what was happening to them (they’re still quite young).

How does one put loss into words, anyway?

Loss is hard enough, but not knowing who to talk to or how to communicate what you’re going through just adds another layer of struggle and pain.

I think this is particularly true for us as women.

We have so much that we’re shouldering – we’re running the home front, doing work on the side or full time, prepping meals, driving kids to school and activities, caring for aging parents, supporting our friends… and sometimes, there’s no space in all the busyness to just let the grief of our own losses have a space to breathe.

So, all of a sudden, when you least expect it, the grief comes bursting out, uncontrollably — like during car rides and in empty parking lots. The grief hits you like a bag of bricks and you have no idea how to put one foot in front of the other and keep moving forward.

It’s been a few years since that dark day in the parking lot, and I still think about the moment often.

I wish I could somehow transport myself into that car and hug my younger self and tell her, “God’s got you. You’re going to be OK.”

I don’t mean that in an insincere way.

Life was really hard for a while.

As many of us know firsthand, loss isn’t linear. That first wave of grief leads to many more ripples of pain, loneliness, and heartache. There were days I didn’t want to function; days where I could barely get out of bed because I didn’t know what my future held.

But by God’s grace, I survived. God carried me through my darkest days and fought for me when I didn’t have the strength to fight for myself. God brought friends into my life to speak biblical truths over me. God opened new doors and new opportunities. He brought me mentors and coaches to help me find my joy again.

If you look at my life now, you might not have any idea that a few years ago I went through a really dark period. If you look at my life now, you might only see stability and joy.

But here’s the truth: success in our lives is often directly born out of our earlier struggles.

God did not abandon me in my fallow season. Instead, He planted seeds of new life that in time bore healthy fruit. The same is true for you.

I don’t know what you’re personally going through. I don’t know what heartache is keeping you up at night, or what sorrows are weighing so heavily on your soul that you can’t find the strength to get out of bed. But God does, and God will never abandon you in your time of grief.

Isaiah 41:13 (NIV) tells us, “For I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you.”

I don’t think I would have made it this far without the comforting right hand of God.

When you feel completely alone in this world, turn to God’s Word for comfort.

When the tears won’t stop, turn to God to dry your tears.

When you feel like you’ve utterly hit rock bottom, turn to God for hope.

He’s there with you, in the fallow season, whispering in your ear, “I’ve got you. You’re going to be OK.”

This might not feel like encouragement right now, but someday you’ll look back on what you’re going through and see how God sustained you. Someday, you’ll look back on this dark period in your life and smile, knowing how far you’ve come and the new strength you’ve found. Someday, the grief and the pain will be a distant memory, and you’ll feel whole again.

I promise you that day is coming.

Because you’ve got God, and God will see you through.

After six beautiful years as an (in)courage contributor, today marks Michelle’s final post. We are so grateful for her presence and voice in this space, and we are cheering her on in all that the Lord has for her ahead. Shalom. 

 

Listen to today’s devotion on the player below or your fave podcast app.

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