When God Answers the Hardest Prayer
I am more than ready to say goodbye to 2025.
It was one of the most challenging years of my life—mentally and financially. There were moments I truly felt like I was losing everything I had worked so hard for.
One of the hardest losses came in a place that once gave me so much life. I never imagined I would separate from Arise Kingdom Ministries. God used that ministry to pour into me for many years, strengthening my relationship with Christ. While there were beautiful seasons, there were also deep hurts—ups and downs that tested my heart. Still, God was faithful through it all, using each circumstance to teach me and refine me.
In 2024, I felt a shift.
In 2025, I prayed one of the hardest prayers I’ve ever prayed: “God, if I’m not meant to be here anymore, separate me.”
And He did.
What I didn’t anticipate was how much I would lose in that separation.
I lost my entire church family—relationships I believed would last a lifetime. People I trusted deeply, people I thought would always be there. The grief that followed was overwhelming and isolating in ways I wasn’t prepared for. There were days I felt completely alone, consumed by depression, with anxiety gripping me so tightly I could barely breathe.
There were Sundays when I would drive to church, sit in the parking lot, and not have the strength to walk inside.
But God didn’t leave me there.
Slowly, faithfully, He began building something new. He surrounded me with a church family who didn’t just say they cared—they showed it. They prayed for me continually. They checked on me. They lifted me up on days I couldn’t lift myself. They were willing to sit with me, hold my hand in prayer, and comfort me in my darkest moments.
They never gave up on me—even when I struggled just to show up.
At the same time, we faced financial hardship. For months, every bill felt heavy. Every house payment felt uncertain. Yet somehow, every payment was made. God didn’t always provide early—but He was always on time.
That season required another hard change. I had to begin working outside the home. It has been a challenge in ways I didn’t anticipate. For the last several months, I’ve been taking my girls to work with me while trying to homeschool them. Eventually, I had to admit something painful: I can’t sustain life as a full-time employee and a homeschool mom.
My dream was to raise my children and educate them myself. Letting go of that dream hurts more than I can put into words. This week, I enrolled my girls in public school, and they are scheduled to start next week. Even writing that still feels heavy.
But here’s what God keeps reminding me:
Obedience doesn’t always look like holding on—it sometimes looks like releasing what we love into His hands.
I don’t know what God has in store for 2026.
I don’t have a clear picture or a five-step plan. But I do know this: the same God who carried us through 2025 will not abandon us in the year ahead.
My prayer is simple—that whatever comes next would be marked by healing, restoration, and peace… and that it would be better than the year we’re leaving behind.
Reflection:
Have you experienced loss that came as a result of obedience?
Is there something God is asking you to release—not because it was wrong, but because this season requires something different?
Letting go doesn’t mean you failed. Sometimes it means God is protecting you and preparing you for what’s next.
Prayer:
Lord, give me the courage to trust You when Your answers change my plans. Help me grieve what I’m losing while still believing You are good. Thank You for being near in my darkest moments and for placing people around me who reflect Your love. I place the unknown ahead of me into Your hands. Amen.