Sometimes I grieve while you work

Lord,

If You are the only reason I feel this ache in my chest— this unbearable, soul-deep, breath-snatching sorrow—then so be it.

Let my pain be sacred.

Let my tears be worship.

Let the breaking be an altar where only You are glorified.

If it is Your hand that pressed me into this fire,

then I will not curse the heat.

I will stay in the flame until it burns away

everything that is not holy.

Everything that is not surrendered.

Everything that is not Yours.

If You are the only reason I wake up with aching bones and still choose to breathe through another day, then You are enough for me to keep walking.

To limp forward.

To crawl, if I must.

To believe that even when I’m shattered and silent, my very existence is still a song to You.

If You’re the only reason I have,

then You are the only reason I need.

I don’t need resolution.

I don’t need understanding.

I don’t need applause or healing that makes sense.

I just need You.

If You’re the reason behind every stripped-away comfort, every closed door, every aching goodbye—then I say yes.

Yes to the unexplainable.

Yes to the lonely places.

Yes to the suffering that carves out more room for Your glory.

If You have to empty me

to fill me with something eternal—

do it. Even if I grieve while You work.

Even if I scream in the silence.

Even if I never get the answers I beg You for.

Because if all I have left is You,

then all I have left is everything.

So break me, if You must.

Bleed me of my pride.

Wound me with purpose.

Strip me of idols.

Undo me completely—

as long as when the dust settles,

I am found clinging to You and You alone.

And if the pain doesn’t leave—

then neither will I.

Because even a hurting heart

is holy ground if You’re in it.