A couple of years ago, when Preston was hospitalized and we were in the deepest valley I’ve ever known, I caught myself talking to God. All the time. Like He was right by my side in the human flesh.
It was a feeling I’ll never forget. Preston had been given a death sentence by the fleshly doctors. I kept chasing the hospital chaplain out of the room(we all know what that was about😩). I was scared, alone, and weary.
I felt like I had prayed so much that it was never ending. One prayer never stopped before the next one began. All day long. Then it was more like I was just talking to God and not praying the “religious” prayers. He saw my heart and my raw emotions. He heard my cries.
And He comforted me. I found joy. In Him. I was not alone. I never had been. I believe that when we are truly broken, we can find God right next to us. So many people tell me that I’m strong. That’s the furtherest from the truth. I often laugh and ask if they could not see Jesus holding me up? I saw Him in it all. I felt Him.
Now, I’m craving that relationship again. It’s a yearning that only He can satisfy. No church can, no man can. I let life get in the way.
God didn’t go anywhere. I did.