There are sweet times in life where everything seems to be going just fine. You’re keeping up with your assignments, your room is clean, you have gas in the car, food in the fridge, money in the bank, and most importantly, your relationships are going well.

But then there comes a moment where something or someone comes along and reminds you of how fundamentally broken you are. This moment shatters you into a million jagged pieces and suddenly everything is going wrong. You have 7 papers due and 4 weeks left in the semester, you’re feeling awful because you got sick, and your head is reeling from the blow that brought you to your knees again.

This has been November. The weather is finally getting colder and the rain is comforting to me as it steadily falls outside. Yet, I sit here and write from a place of deep pain. It is the type of pain that grabs a hold of your heart and tears it to shreds while simultaneously crushing it in a vice. It is pain that makes it impossible to breathe or think or feel anything else because there is nothing else outside of this suffering. This last week has brought me to my knees and I can do nothing else but collapse on God’s altar; shattered, shivering, and done.

It is in these moments where the beauty and light of God are the most comforting. As my Father, He gathers up the broken pieces and puts them back together with gentle care. He acknowledges my brokenness and redeems it through Jesus, who came back broken but victorious. He puts His arms around me and reminds me that I am loved, worthy, and His. He doesn’t condemn me or belittle me. My Father simply holds me in His arms on the altar while He pours His love and mercy back into my darkened soul.

I have come to the realization that what God has gifted me with, a great capacity to care about others, is something that is fundamentally difficult, painful and lonely. And I need to take the time to lament the loss of things that will never be, to give my entire self to God again, to heal, to grow.

This is still November. God is still good. I am still His.

Matthew 11:28–30 NIV — “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”