I’ve been feeling down these past few days — not because of any physical illness, but something deeper. A heaviness, hopeless… like I couldn’t care less about anything at all.
Yesterday, a woman named Careen responded kindly to my post “The Struggle with Grief: Is True Healing Possible?”
I couldn’t bring myself to respond to her last comment. This morning, I admitted that “I’m down right now. Even no strength to post”.
Careen responded, “Even your admission of discouragement gives me hope.” She also told me she is turning 81 soon.
Someone nearing 81… found hope in my low point. That humbled me. That lifted me. That inspired this note.
Careen’s words carried a kind of strength that only comes from walking through deep valleys — and surviving them.
Sometimes healing doesn’t come through strength, but through honesty — through showing up, even in pieces, letting God use our brokenness to breathe life into someone else.
And maybe… that is what true healing looks like.
Thank you, Careen. Your words found me in the fog.