Be Still: 30 Devotions for the Hopeful HeartSýnishorn

Just Passing Through

For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. II CORINTHIANS 5:1 ESV

The more “life” we experience, the more we learn that grief comes in many forms. It can come at any moment. It offers no manners, asking when we think our heart could better handle the tough moments. It spares no one, seizing the opportunity to strike us all to our knees.

And in these moments, the ones when we believe the world truly stops, we are jolted out of our reality. Nothing feels in control. Everything feels fragile.

We deeply question, “Lord, where are You? Why?” We search the index of possibilities and wonder why this had to be. Life as we know it will always look different. While the passing of a loved one, a divorce, or extreme financial hardship are moments that automatically can be registered as grief, sometimes grief looks a lot different. Sometimes it looks like abandoning our preconceived timeline for getting married, letting go of a relationship that had become toxic, or coming face-to-face with consequences we ourselves induced. We often mislabel grief, not fully comprehending the void that is in our lives.

But in these moments, our soul recognizes desperation. We grasp the realization that life on earth requires many knee-prints. When uncertainty, fear, and pain become real to us, we more intimately understand that Jesus is our only known. As we cry out to Him in prayer, we begin to see that He is our only Source of peace. These conversations with Him link our hands and keep them interlocked with His. Being close to Him, our spirit witnesses the depth of His love, His grace, and His mercy for us. As our hearts ache and our feet stumble, He uses our weariness to show us His glory. Because how else do we get put back together except by His hands?

Moments of grief remind us that we were never meant to get comfortable here. We learn that maybe all this hard stuff is the big arrow that points to our true home with our heavenly Father. We are just passing through. No need to set up a kingdom here or let life convince us that grief is our constant companion. Oh no. Hope is our companion. We, the chosen people of God, can have hopeful hearts.

Dear Jesus, thank You that You are always near, even when our hearts are weary or sad. Will You remind us of our forever home? Let the truth of eternity with You permeate our hearts with hope and joy. In Jesus’s name, amen.