Hope for Dashed Dreams and Broken Things
The tears dripping into my coffee mug are an awkward reminder of the ache in my heart.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur to my friend who huddles in the back of the coffee shop with me.
I shrug my shoulders and swipe at the drizzles zig zagging down my cheeks. I lift the warm mug and swirl the dark liquid with a shake. “I guess that’s one way to dilute this strong coffee…” I say with a subtle smile.
My friend laughs at my feeble attempt at humor and leans across the table between us. She gives my hand a gentle squeeze, an unspoken reminder that our friendship has space for both giggles and grief.
For months I’ve been processing an unexpected loss. I’ve slogged through the confusing fog of grief and sat in the valley of unfulfilled promises.
I’ve splayed my hurt with cursive loops across the pages of my prayer journal and sought wise counsel as I’ve sorted through the fragile fragments of shattered hope.
I’ve practiced the once-seemingly-unnecessary discipline of lament, and I’ve asked God a 10000 questions in the middle of the night. Still the ache lingers and some days it’s hard to breathe.
I dig for a tissue in my purse, then return my friend’s gaze.
“I’m sorry it hurts so much,” she says, her own eyes glassy with compassion. “I wish I could fix it.”
I swallow the lump of tears rising in my throat. “I know.”
I want to fix it, too. I want to hush the howl of disappointment that grows loud as my house grows quiet. I want to quell the tears that spill in coffee shops and in the laundry room, in the minivan and in the moonlight.
I want to fix me. I want to see possibility once more. To wake up expectant. To feel like myself again. We sit there a moment and let the silence speak what we can’t.
How do you fix something you never expected to break?
What do you do with the shattered pieces that just won’t fit back together?
I thank my friend for walking this jutted road with me, then I steer our conversation toward easier things. We talk about the books we’re reading and the kids’ shifting schedules, our hopes for summer and our love for the beach.
Our coffee grows cold. Our time runs out. But when we stand to leave, my friend circles back to that awkward ache. “You know I won’t stop praying, right?”
I nod my head and squeeze my eyes tight, willing the seeping to stop.
She looks me in the eye and wraps me in a one-armed hug. “I don’t know how He’s gonna do it, but I’m asking God to restore all that’s been broken,” she says as we clear our dishes and head out the door.
There’s no mug catching my tears when the day comes to a close, just a thin page of scripture open on my lap. I’m sitting alone with my tattered Bible and my ragged heart. Because, like my friend, I’ve promised to pray.
It’s a pact I made with God when the ache began. I may not understand You, but I’ll keep talking to You. I may not like the way You’re writing my story, but I’ll keep leaning into Yours.
I’ve walked with Him long enough to know that prayer is the thread that binds me to His heart. And what I need most when my hope is falling apart is a Love that holds me together.
So I keep talking. And God keeps listening.
And when I don’t know what to pray, I grab my Bible and use His words until I can find my own again.
Tonight, I peer at the Bible in my hands and begin to read.
Holy Spirit, speak for me, I plead.
I’m traipsing through the seventeenth chapter of Jeremiah when I see it– the way my teardrops have landed on a verse, like a highlighter beckoning my attention.
Jeremiah 17:14 is damp and smudged, my own drizzles of sadness framing its poignant petition– God, pick up the pieces. Put me back together again. You are my praise! (The Message)
I read the words aloud. Over and over again.
And as the cry that once spilled from an anguished prophet’s mouth spills from mine, it feels more like a promise than a prayer.
This is who God is, the Holy Spirit whispers. This is your Father’s heart.
The coffee shop words thrum through my mind—I don’t know how He’s gonna do it, but I’m asking God to restore all that’s been broken. And as I sit there in the muted moonlight, those words twirl with the timeless truth I’ve just turned into a prayer.
God, pick up the pieces. Put me back together again. You are my praise!
Pick up the pieces.
I don’t know how.
Restore.
I’m asking God.
Put me back together.
Praise.
I listen, and above the ache rises this wisp of hope—We have a Father who knows what to do with broken things.
Jeremiah proclaimed it from the depths of discouragement, and we can declare it, too.
God’s love doesn’t just steady us, it also restores us.
The good news for those of us holding dashed dreams and tattered tales, fractured plans and shattered promise is this—Our Maker is a mender.
He sees our tears and hears our cries.
And when we refuse to turn away, the One who holds all things together will tenderly put us back together, too. Prayer by prayer and piece by piece.
I don’t know what broken things you’re carrying right now, friends, but I’m praying God uses this space to remind you that He sees you and He loves you. If you enjoyed the encouragement you found here, we’d love you to join our community of Jesus-seekers and hope dwellers. When you subscribe, we’ll send you ten promises to remind you that God is with you. And if you haven’t read my devotion for Proverbs 31 today, you can find it here. I’m sharing a few thoughts on where to start as we walk with our friends through brokenness.
I love to connect with you in this space, but my favorite way to meet people is face to face! Check out my speaking topics here, then let me know if you’d like me to speak at your next women’s event. Finally, if there’s a specific way we can pray for you today, feel free to share in the comments. We’d be delighted to talk to Jesus with you.
My son started having health issues last year. We would drive 12 hours every month to take him to doctors and hospitals. He seemed to be getting better but then things fell apart and he passed away a couple of months ago. I was praying for him, my friends prayed and people in their churches prayed but it feels like God didn’t listen. How do I run to Him for comfort when I feel like He broke my heart.
Mona, I am so sorry for your loss and the deep pain of your heartache. I cannot imagine anything more devastating for a mom than burying her child. I am aching with you as I read your words. And pausing RIGHT NOW to pray for you. Your question is a valid one and certainly one I’ve asked many times before. Basically, “How can I trust you, God, when I feel like you’ve let me down?” One of the hardest parts of faith for me has been knowing God CAN and standing in situations where He chose not to. I don’t have answers for the mystery of it all—- I think that living intimately with a God who is not bound by time and who is the Author of life today, yesterday, and forever, means we are not going to be capable of understanding His ways or His thoughts all the time. If we could, He wouldn’t be bigger than us. He’d be our equal, not Eternal. And while that doesn’t help me or you answer the “why” when He seems to let us down or allow the heartache we prayed to avoid, I do know that I don’t have much need for a small God. Especially in times of heartache and pain. I need a God so big that He can handle my anger and heartbreak and so big that He can be my refuge when my whole world is shaking. Your grief is real and His goodness is, too. And, there’s no formula that you need to follow. If you can’t run to Him right now, He understands. Psalm 34:18 promises “He’s near to the brokenhearted.” He’s so tender and patient and He’s no stranger to grief. So you may not have the energy or desire to pursue Him, but He will not abandon you. He is right there with you willing to comfort you when you’re ready to draw near to His heart again. In the meantime, maybe you can just leave the door of your heart open a crack with a simple prayer like this, “God, I’m hurting too much to engage with you, but I know you won’t leave me alone in my grief. So, today. please give me glimpse of your presence in my pain. Remind me you are with me and for me.” Thanks for trusting us enough to share your hurt here, Mona. I wish I could reach through the screen and give you a hug.
I could use prayers right now as I’m walking the road of postpartum anxiety and depression. It definitely feels broken and hopeless right now. It’s so easy to get discouraged in this season. This is my second time going through this. I didn’t think I was going to go through it this time because I was great through my pregnancy and the first 4 months and then it decided to hit after that, the first time I was anxious all during pregnancy and after having my baby, so this time I thought I was good to go. So that has been a hard blow and it makes me question why God is allowing this to happen. It is so hard and I know it will get better but it just seems so hard in the season.
I’ve learned (but I often forget) that the most challenging seasons produce the finest spiritual fruits. The difficult times always move us closer to God and allow us to know Him a little more. And for those of us in ministry, we sometimes get more trials just so we can reach out to others with the love and lessons God has shown us. It would be nice for Him to tell us what exactly He is doing but then we wouldn’t need faith would we? He always proves faithful in the end.
Thank you for sharing your broken heart with me. My life and heart have been broken as well. Thankfully, God is close to the brokenhearted. Love in Christ, sister Erica
Erica, I am sorry for your broken heart. I am praying for you right now–asking Jesus to be close to you as He promises and to restore you in the way that only He can. I am so grateful we don’t have to walk through the hard stretches alone. Thanks for taking a minute to connect here. Wish I could reach through the screen and give you a big hug.
Thanks for the reminder that our challenging seasons can create beautiful fruit. And you are absolutely right about faith. God didn’t try to hide the fact that faith can often feel like a walk in the dark, did He?–“Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” (Hebrews 11:1) I appreciate your wisdom and your encouragement. Thank you:)
I wish you lived in NJ, near me so I could persuade you to take prayer hikes with me. I would drop off a nutritious meal and walk along side you sharing Faith love joy and encouragement. I have a sad sad story too, of loneliness and unbelief and also shunned by my church. But I’ve learned who I am in Christ and I will finish the race well despite my trials. Let’s walk together and be the peace like a river others need to see. Let’s serve others and love well, no matter what.
Cat in NJ
Cat, your sweet words make me smile. I love to hike and as a woman who feeds 7 people a day and gets a little tired of making grocery lists, I never turn down a meal someone else has made for me 🙂 I am sorry for your sad story and grateful for your commitment to finish the race well. I am there, running beside you–clinging to Jesus, loving the people in my path, and trusting He is working all things for good. And right now, I’m pausing to pray for you. May God continue to give you everything you need to serve, love, and follow His lead. Grateful you took a moment to be here today.
May God’s abundant grace pour out and over you, my sister. I have sat where you sit and I can only say: He is Faithful, the God of all comfort, the healer of your heart, the designer of dreams and His strength will carry you through. He is Abba♥️
Tura, thank you:)
Dear Lisa, I am praying for you and all of your family right now. I asked God for a Bible reference for you and I think it would be good for you to read Mark 2. Maybe God is putting those nonChristians around you so you can share Jesus with them. If we were comfortable with a church family right now we might miss out on sharing Jesus with these specific people. God works out everything together for our good. When other people don’t get it, do not understand our emotions or even acknowledge our pain, Jesus does and He is with us. It says He is close to the broken hearted. Keep reaching out for Him and talk to Him like He is sitting right there with you because He is with you.
I am so grateful you posted. I’ve been feeling alone too. My Dad passed away from us in January. I have two daughters too and relationship problems that I can’t post about. But seeing your post reminds me I’m not alone in these things. Ill be praying for you all. Please pray for me and my family too. I don’t want to give up. Remember how Jesus encouraged His disciples even before things looked really bleak around them, “I’ve prayed for you that your faith may not fail”. He is interceding for us too and constantly. Love to you and shalom Lisa I am cheering for you!
Love in Christ, Kelly
Kelly, I’m so sorry for the loss of your dad. I’m praying for you right now—-asking Jesus to comfort you in your grieving and to encourage you with His Word. May he meet you in a personal and palpable way in these hard places. May He give you His wisdom as you navigate your relationship with your daughters. Thanks for taking time to pray for us here and for reminding us of Jesus’ encouragement. What an amazing gift to have a Savior who intercedes for us in Heaven as we walk across the dust of this broken world.
I feel like my life is falling apart and I’m hitting rock bottom. I’ve cried out to God for years and don’t feel like He’s answering me. My husband left in 2013. My son left in 2016 and won’t speak to me or my daughters . My father died in January and my mother is becoming increasingly hostile and hurtful. I have a daughter with ADHD and personality disorder who makes bad decisions and is exhausting. I have another daughter in a first time relationship with red flags she won’t admit. Our church “shunned” us when my husband left because divorce isn’t approved of. “Christians” on every side have rejected me. I’ve searched for a church, but they are either focused on young families or have cliques that I’m not accepted into. The only acceptance I have found is from nonChristians. I need to be with other believers to help hold me up, challenge me, and pray for me. I’m tired and don’t know what to do.
Praying for you, friend. God sees you.
Lisa, I’m so sorry for all the hurt. I’m praying for you right now——Dear Jesus, you know every detail of Lisa’s story and the depth and breadth of her pain. Your word promises that when we pray, you listen. So, today, we boldly ask that you would speak to Lisa in a way that comforts and encourages her. Let her know you hear her cries and see her pain. Open her eyes to your presence in all of these hard and broken places. Enable her to be the kind of friend she’s longing for and give her renewed strength for this journey. Restore what has been broken as only you can. We pray this in your name, Jesus. Amen