faith unfaded

I remember hearing the lyrics to Katy Nichole’s song “Hold On” in 2023. They kind of made me mad.

“Hold on just a little bit longer
I know it’s gonna be okay
These days are gonna make you stronger
You’ll find purpose in the pain.”

I saw absolutely zero purpose for anything I was going through. I wasn’t out there doing drugs. I wasn’t lying. I wasn’t cheating. I was in ministry. I thought I was doing everything right.

So how had it all gone so wrong?

And how was I gonna be stronger? Satan had cut me off at the knees, and he’d used the very ones I’d helped the most. I was not only heartbroken, I had lost all hope.

Then I heard an interview with Katy, in which she described the hopelessness she’d felt when she wrote the song. She’d decided to end her life, something I’d entertained as well. She heard God speak in that moment, saying “Hold on, I’m not done yet.”

It was her story, more than her song, that made me take note. The next time it came on, I listened to the rest of the lyrics. Really listened.

“Hold on just a little bit longer
Deep down there’s a well of faith
Let hope arise as you’re lifting up my name
And just hold on”

That was something the devil kept trying to make me forget. There was a well of faith within me. It didn’t just pop up in the last couple of years. I’d missed the mark repeatedly—there was no denying that. But I’d always known that everything good and pure within me came from the Lord.

And then came the lyrics that held the promise.

“Hold on, hold on
Just wait ’til you see what’s at the end of the road
A new life is ready to unfold”

Maybe there was purpose in the pain I’d endured. Not just the current pain, but the trauma that went back to childhood. Maybe He was going to do something with it all.

Most of all, I felt a glimmer of hope that I’d lost sight of. Life without hope is a terrifying place to be. But just one sliver of hope is all it takes to shine light into pitch black darkness.

And He did just what these lyrics promised to Katy, and to me. And to all who believe.
He took the pain and turned it into purpose. He took the faith and grew it into something with a root system so strong, concrete streets buckle under the pressure. And He gave me enough hope that I had plenty to share with others.

The new life that unfolded was that of my wildest dreams. And it was worth every ounce of pain to get here.

I heard that song as I was driving earlier this week, so filled with pain and grief over losing my mom.

“You’ll find purpose in the pain.”

I realized something for the first time. This pain is incredibly gut-wrenching, but it isn’t hopeless.

In fact, there’s great hope. Not only will I see my mother again, but she has been reunited with her parents, aunts and uncles, grandparents, mother and father-in-law, and my baby—her granddaughter. I’m happy for her. For them all.

That song was about a time when nothing makes sense. When fear lurked around the corner and uncertainty took center stage.

My grief is the opposite. Painful, yes, but with promise and assurance.

It shifted things just a little inside of me.

I am still sad, of course—I lost my mom. Just thinking about it sends tears streaming down my face.

But Satan wants me to feel hopeless despair with it, and that’s just not the case.

Our earthly loss is Heaven’s gain. Her new life has unfolded… in Heaven.

I needed that perspective this week.

https://youtu.be/O4BZqMtOb6s?is=IySZL2NeuFJfgFhV