It’s heavy

It’s heavy.

Not in the way a burden is heavy, but in the way silence is—when it echoes in the hollow places of your soul that once held joy.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same,

and maybe that’s the point.

Something in me cracked that day.

I can’t even name it, not really.

Maybe it was grief.

Maybe it was the sound of a thousand unspoken prayers, falling unanswered into the cracks of my heart like rain through broken ceilings.

Maybe it was the loss of innocence…

or the moment I realized life doesn’t wait for you to catch your breath.

It keeps spinning, even when you’re not sure you want it to anymore.

I used to be so sure—of God, of goodness, of purpose. But when the storm hit, it stripped me bare. I was left exposed, and I didn’t even recognize the girl in the mirror.

My eyes still shine, but it’s a different light now—

not one of simple joy, but of stubborn survival.

Of faith that has been fire-tested and tear-washed. Of hope that limps, but hasn’t died.

Pain has a way of making you holy…

or hard. And some days, I don’t know which one I’m becoming.

But I do know this:

The ache has given me eyes to see things I was blind to before. To recognize the sacred in the shattered. To hear God’s voice not just in the thunder, but in the stillness of the ruins.

This heaviness has taught me to carry what I cannot fix. To sit with sorrow like it’s a friend and not a threat.

To stop pretending I’m okay when I’m bleeding.

To weep without shame,

and worship anyway.

No, I’m not the same.

I never will be.

But I’m beginning to believe that maybe that’s grace.

Because what broke me also opened me.

And through the cracks, the light is getting in.

Let it be said of me—

not that I was unshaken,

but that I was unmoved in my devotion.

That when the weight of life pressed down,

I didn’t fold into despair…

I knelt.

So yes—it’s heavy.

But so is glory.

So is healing.

So is becoming.

And I will carry this weight until it becomes wings. Until the very thing that tried to bury me

becomes the thing God uses to raise me.