I haven’t written in a month because I couldn’t. Too much has gone on. Compounded grief smothered me (my sister and brother died within two months of each other). Then a tornado hit our church and the community, and I did not have the energy to help. Guilt settled in. A week later COVID-19 had us all home and learning how to social distance. Isolation struck deep.

I tried to pray, but my mind remained clouded and distracted. Dull headaches lingered hours and into days. Exhaustion weighed down my body. I could not focus. I tried to read God’s word but God felt distant rather than with me.

I read the Psalms. I read through Lamentations. I needed to hear from fellow sojourners who had walked through grief and pain like mine. I asked God so many questions, but He did not answer. I told Him it was too much and I could not take any more. A fog hovered over my mind and would not lift.

I switched to reading The Message instead. While reading Lamentations chapter 3 again, the fog dissipated for a moment.

When life is heavy and hard to take, go off by yourself. Enter the silence. Bow in prayer. Don’t ask questions. Wait for hope to appear (Lam. 3:27-29).

I couldn’t think of anything else to do so I entered the silence. I bowed in prayer. I did not ask a question. And I waited.

I wept. I sobbed. I did that for so many mornings. I just showed up at my usual sacred space and sat there releasing more tears, more sobs, more tissues.

Oh, I wanted to ask God questions. I wanted God to answer me but that was not His plan. He reminded me that the questions did not need to be answered right then. Grief rushed out and I could not stop it. He wanted me to know it was safe to come to Him and just be broken and hurting.

And broken and hurting I came.

During this time God reminded me of a video our church had shown during a sermon series on “Restoring the Soul.”

In the video, a church member is shown working with a piece of clay. It’s a messy process, but the potter never releases the lump of clay. He molds and holds it with both hands. God was showing me that even though my life was very messy, He was holding me together with both hands. (Click here to see the video.)

A sliver of hope cracked through the darkness.

Today when I went for a walk the sun was shining, the temperature was warming, and the cherry trees were showing off. Slowly and surely, just as spring follows winter, hope unfurled in my soul.

I still want God to erase the sadness and the virus, but I’m going to keep showing up, praying, and waiting. Why? Because God keeps showing up and holding me together through the hard and heavy seasons of life.