Invisible Grief

There are moments when I pick up the pen to write and I bleed on the page. And I know I am not alone in the moments when my soul is tired.

Not because I stopped believing. Not because I stopped loving Jesus. Not because I took my eyes off Him. I just feel tired in my soul.

The kind of tired where you still know God is good. You still know He provides. You still know He shows up. You still know Jesus is enough. And still… your soul aches for a calm in the storm. Just somewhere to exhale.

Some struggles are loud. Some leave bruises people can see. And some are so invisible everyone around you thinks your life looks good.

This is for the people living there. The people counting blessings while simultaneously feeling empty. The people who have become so strong that everyone applauds their strength while nobody notices they are exhausted. The people grieving something invisible.

And invisible grief is hard because nobody brings casseroles for that. Nobody says, "I see your loss." Nobody sees the quiet places where you scream:

Jesus… I need You.

And before someone misunderstands me, hear me clearly. Jesus is enough. He always has been. The secret place still calms me.

But just because you pray does not mean you do not leave the room and enter the world again. Real life still continues. You still walk back into responsibilities. Still walk back into people. Still walk back into the struggle.

Even Jesus said, "My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death." And in His agony, His sweat was as it were great drops of blood.

So if your soul is tired… I see you. But more importantly, the Lord sees you. You are not alone.

We all have storms. And although I do not know every answer, my peace comes from knowing this: "Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning."Psalm 30:5

So I am going to lift up my hands and praise the Lord because I know it is going to be okay. His Word tells me so.

And at some point… I either believe it or I don't.

And I choose to believe it.