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Y'all, I woke up at 4am this morning and couldn't go back to sleep. You know that feeling when God's trying to tell you something and you just can't ignore it? When you're laying there in the dark and your mind won't settle because there's something He wants you to see? That's where I was. Just laying there, staring at the ceiling, and I kept hearing Him whisper to my spirit. "Remember. Remember where you were. Remember what I brought you through." So finally I got up. Made some coffee, the strong kind because it was 4am and I wasn't playing around. Sat down at my kitchen table while the house was still quiet and dark except for that one light over the sink I always leave on. And I started remembering. Here's a hummingbird. If you know, you know. God is so good. There was a season in my life, not that long ago, where I honestly wasn't sure I was going to make it through. I'm talking about the kind of season where you wake up and you don't even want to get out of bed. Where everything feels heavy. Where even the good things don't feel good anymore. Some of it was circumstances. My mom's health. Financial pressure. A friendship that ended badly and left me questioning everything. But a lot of it was internal. It was me wrestling with God. Wrestling with doubt. Wrestling with questions I'd never let myself ask before. "Is He really there? Does He really see me? Does He really care about what I'm going through?" And the scary part wasn't asking the questions. The scary part was that I didn't have good answers anymore. All the Sunday school answers I'd learned suddenly felt hollow. I remember sitting in church one Sunday, and everyone around me was singing and worshiping, and I was just standing there with tears running down my face. Not tears of worship. Tears of desperation. "God, where are You? Why does everyone else seem to feel You and I feel nothing?" I didn't tell anyone. How do you tell people at church that you're questioning everything? That you're not sure anymore? So I just kept showing up. Kept going through the motions. Kept smiling and saying "I'm fine" when people asked. But I wasn't fine. I was drowning. I remember one night, probably 2am, and I couldn't sleep. I went into the bathroom so I wouldn't wake my husband up, and I just sat on the floor and cried. And I prayed. Or tried to pray. It was more like begging. "God, if You're real, I need You to show me. I need something. Anything. Because I can't keep doing this. I can't keep pretending. I need to know You're actually there." And y'all, I didn't get a lightning bolt. I didn't hear an audible voice. The heavens didn't open up. But I felt something. Small. Quiet. Like a whisper in my spirit that said, "I'm here. I've been here the whole time. You just couldn't feel Me because you were looking for the wrong things." That moment was the beginning of something changing. The next morning, I started reading my Bible differently. Not looking for answers or comfort or quick fixes. Just reading it like I was reading a letter from someone I was trying to get to know again. And I started noticing things I'd never noticed before. How many times the people in Scripture questioned God. David crying out "How long, O Lord?" Job, sitting in ashes, demanding answers. These weren't people who had it all figured out. These were people who were honest about their struggles. Who wrestled with God. Who questioned and doubted and kept showing up anyway. And that gave me permission to be honest too. So I started journaling. Writing out my real prayers. Not the pretty ones. The real, messy, angry, desperate ones. And slowly, over weeks and months, something started to shift. I started noticing Him in small things. In the way the light came through my kitchen window in the morning. In a text from a friend who said exactly what I needed to hear. In a moment of peace in the middle of chaos where I just knew I was going to be okay. I'd been looking for God in the big, dramatic moments. But He was showing up in the quiet. In the ordinary. In the everyday moments I'd been too distracted to notice. He was there in the kitchen when I was making coffee. He was there at 2am when I couldn't sleep. He was there in the bathroom when I was crying on the floor. He was there in church when I was standing there with tears running down my face feeling nothing. He'd been there the whole time. And that season, that dark, hard, awful season where I thought I was losing my faith? That was actually the season where I found real faith. Not the easy kind that only works when life is good. But the kind that holds on even when you can't see. Even when you don't understand. Because real faith isn't about having all the answers. It's not about never doubting or questioning or struggling. Real faith is saying "I don't understand, but I'm going to trust You anyway. I can't see You, but I'm going to believe You're there anyway." And somewhere in that season, I started doing something that helped. Something small, but it became important to me. Every morning when I got up, I would touch my cross. The one I wear every day. And I would say out loud, "God, I'm Yours. Even today. Even in this. I'm Yours." Some days I believed it when I said it. Some days I was just going through the motions. But I kept doing it. And that cross became a reminder. Not a lucky charm. Not a magic fix. But a tangible symbol that I belonged to God. That no matter what I was feeling, no matter what I was going through, I was His and He was faithful. I would touch it during the day when anxiety would hit. When the questions would start spiraling. Just touch it. Hold it for a second. Remember. "I'm His. He's got me. He's faithful even when I can't feel it." And looking back now, sitting at my kitchen table at 4:32 in the morning, that's what God wanted me to remember. He wanted me to remember where I was. How dark it got. How lost I felt. And He wanted me to remember what He brought me through. Because I'm on the other side now. Not because everything is perfect. Not because I never question or doubt anymore. But because I learned something in that season that I couldn't have learned any other way. I learned that God is faithful even when I'm not. That He holds on even when I'm barely holding on. That He's working even when I can't see it. And I learned that sometimes the darkest seasons are the ones where He's doing the deepest work. My mom's health got better. The financial pressure eased. The friendship that ended? I realized it needed to end. Sometimes God removes things not to punish us but to protect us. But more than any of that, I got better. My faith got stronger. My relationship with God got real. Not perfect. Not pretty. But real. And now when I see other women struggling, when I see that look in their eyes that says "I'm drowning and I don't know how to ask for help," I want to tell them what I wish someone had told me. It's okay to not be okay. It's okay to question. It's okay to doubt. It's okay to sit on the bathroom floor at 2am and beg God to show up. He's not afraid of your honesty. He's not disappointed in your struggles. He's right there in the mess with you. Keep showing up. Keep holding on. Keep looking for Him in the quiet moments. He's there. Even when you can't feel it. Especially when you can't feel it. We serve a good God. And He's faithful. Not just in the good seasons. Not just when we have it all together. But in the dark seasons. In the questioning seasons. In the seasons where we can barely hold on. He's faithful when we're not. He holds on when we're letting go. He sees us when we feel invisible. That's the God we serve. That's the God who met me in the bathroom at 2am. That's the God who's been with me through every single moment since then. Sitting here at 4am remembering all of that, I'm so grateful. Not for the pain. Not for the darkness. But for what He taught me in it. For who I became because of it. For the real, deep, honest faith that came out of it. And I'm grateful for the small reminders along the way. Like that cross I've worn every single day. The one I've touched probably a thousand times while whispering "I'm Yours" or "You're faithful" or just "Help." If you're in that dark season right now, if you're the one questioning or doubting or barely holding on, I want you to know you're not alone. God sees you. He's with you. He's going to bring you through this. And if you need a tangible reminder of that, something you can touch when you need to remember, there's something to be said for having a symbol of faith that lasts. But more than anything, what you need to know is that He's got you. He's not letting go. He's faithful even when you're not. Especially when you're not. God is so good. I love you all so much. Have a good day. https://violegrace.com/products/the-eternal-cross-pendant-necklace