Big T,
I hadn't realised how exhausted I was until I started reading your midweek devotionals, the kind of tired that rests silently in your spirit. The type that results from attempting to remain strong for too long. Holding things together on the outside as something inside you progressively wears out. That was where I found myself; nothing had entirely collapsed, but nothing seemed quite right either. I was showing up for life, doing what was necessary, but hoping.
On a Wednesday, I stumbled upon your midweek devotional, which I almost overlooked. I remember thinking, "I'll read it later," but something pushed me to open it anyhow. And I'm happy I did; your words were neither overwhelming nor demanding. They seemed nice, like someone meeting me right where I was and not expecting me to have everything sorted out. You spoke about hope in a unique way that resonated with me.
I began returning each week not out of habit, but because those times became a break in my week. A place where I could breathe, contemplate, and be reminded of truths I didn't know I needed. Some weeks, a single line stuck with me all day; other weeks, the prayer at the conclusion felt like it contained words I couldn't find on my own.
And gradually, something began to alter; hope did not return all at once, but it began to build anew.
I had a shift in how I perceived my situation.
There is a sense of peace where there was before only silent worry.
A reminder that God was still present, even when everything seemed unclear.
Your devotionals were more than just something I read; they served as a midweek reset and a reminder that I didn't have to carry everything by myself. I'm not sure if you always realise the impact of what you write, but I want you to know that your consistency, words, and prayers count.
Because, in the midst of an ordinary week, when I had no idea how much I needed it, God used your devotional to gently restore what I thought I had lost.
Hope.
And I am genuinely appreciative.
With appreciation,
A Reader Finding Hope Again 🤍