I will not abandon the story

I don’t know when the voice first crept in.

The one that whispers, “You’re tired. You’ve tried long enough. Just lay it down.”

It didn’t arrive loud.

It arrived gentle,

wearing exhaustion like wisdom,

wearing grief like permission.

And some days, I almost believed it.

Because grief has a way of hollowing you out.

It makes quitting feel right.

Like rest.

Like mercy.

But here’s what shook me awake today,

the enemy does not plague what he doubts.

He does not fight what he thinks is empty.

He does not whisper “quit” to lives he believes are insignificant.

The truth I don’t always want to face is this:

He knows.

He has always known.

He believes every word God has spoken over me, even on the days I can’t say them out loud myself. Even when my hands are shaking too hard to hold onto hope.

Even when my faith feels more like clinging than confidence.

He knows what heaven said when my name was spoken.

He knows the calling wrapped around my wounds.

He knows the weight my obedience carries in rooms I’ve never entered yet.

He knows the damage my yes does to his kingdom.

That’s why he wants me tired.

That’s why he wants me numb.

That’s why he wants me convinced that surviving is enough and believing is optional.

But today, in the middle of my ache,

something holy interrupted my sorrow.

If hell believes God…why don’t I?

Why do I trust the grief more than the promise?

Why do I believe the delay more than the Word?

Why do I assume the silence means absence

when heaven has never once retracted what it declared?

I am still grieving.

Still aching.

Still carrying losses I don’t know how to name without crying.

But I am not disqualified.

The enemy wouldn’t be fighting this hard

if my life were meaningless.

He wouldn’t be whispering quit

if quitting wouldn’t cost him something.

So tonight, with tear-stained faith and trembling hands, I choose to believe again—

not because I feel strong,

but because God has never lied.

I will not quit in the very chapter

where heaven knows breakthrough is being written.

I will not abandon the story

just because the middle hurts.

If the enemy believes God’s Word about me,

then maybe it’s time I do too.

Even here.

Even now.

Even while grieving.