I laid there- in vast amounts of tears, quickly scrolling through my contacts, looking for someone, anyone, to reach out to. “Pray for me” is what I was planning to say to them if they would happen to be up, like me, at 2 in the morning. But as I searched and searched, I realized that no matter how many people I looked for in my phone or how many people I wished were nearby to give me the hug I so desperately needed, I wasn’t going to feel much better. So I got on my knees and I prayed. And though I could barely formulate legible words to express myself, I said what I could. I already knew that He knew what was in my heart, and just my efforts were enough. And there it was- that rush of peace, that feeling of my eyes drying up.
There’s something special about a moment when you’re so upset, so crippled with pain that you find yourself on the floor of your bedroom, out of breath from how hard you’re crying, that you feel God’s presence ever-so-clearly. That moment a sense of peace comes over and through you. When the headache goes away and the hyperventilating slows. You just know He is there, comforting you the way you thought you needed other people to. There hasn’t been a time I’ve hit rock bottom that He hasn’t shown up and for that, I am thankful.