“Someone needs to hear this. So I am stepping out in faith and trusting God to use these words to comfort someone.
God saw me. In my early twenties, on the bathroom floor, clutching a positive pregnancy test in my hand.
He didn’t turn away. He looked right into my terrified eyes and peeled me off the floor and told me He was with me.
God saw me. Clutching something else in my hand that sent an icy finger down my spine and set my insides ablaze in terror. That time I held a silver pipe, proof of the unimaginable. My husband was an addict. God did not say what I felt, ‘How pathetic. How could you have missed this?’ Instead, he held my gaze without flinching. He was with me. Steady.
God saw me in the doctor’s office with my son who candidly shared his suicidal ideations. I didn’t know how bad it was. How did I not know? God knew. He saw into our deep pools of grief and desperation and His hand was there to guide us back to the surface. Meds. Therapy. And trust that He was in control. He was with my son. He was with me.
He still is. In my curiosity and my confusion. He never wavers.
He is with me. God is inside me.
When I despair or rejoice, sink or soar, when I die a thousand slow deaths or emerge with wet wings, refreshed and brand new, God sees me.
Even when I can’t make my eyes meet his.
Even when I can’t tear myself away from this world and its hurts and victories and starlight and tangled roots.
He sees me.
He knows me.
God loves me.
And those moments our eyes lock, I see Him, and I know he’s never left.”
This story was submitted to Love What Matters by Melissa Neeb from Never Empty Nest and Faith In The Mess. You can follow her journey on Instagram and Facebook. Submit your own story here. Be sure to subscribe to our free email newsletter for our best stories, and YouTube for our best videos.
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