I Can’t Take This Pain Anymore
There is a moment—often quiet, sometimes violent—when pain feels like the only truth. It doesn’t knock politely. It barges in, rearranges our thoughts, and whispers lies in our ear: “This will never get better.” “You were foolish to believe.” “That divine promise was never real .”
But pain is a poor historian—it forgets the resilience of the human spirit. My work has placed me in a unique position to encounter many people who survived life-threatening and painfully hopeless situations. For example I have witnessed countless individuals who had abandoned hope of becoming parents find their way back to joy—whether through natural conception, fertility treatments, adoption, (or surrogacy for even those who no longer have a womb).
Pain speaks in the language of immediacy. It doesn’t care about context, or the long arc of our story. It doesn’t remember the nights we prayed with conviction, the dreams we sketched, or the divine promise that once lit up our chest like a sunrise.
Pain is temporary. But divine promises—real ones—are forged in something deeper. Sometimes the greatest battles are not fought with others but within. Divine timing is not delay, it’s protection. Learning to be still as we go through the process is not so easy but it is worth it.
Reflectionintrospection
We are wired to seek instant relief. When life hurts, we want out. Fast. And in that desperation, we start to question everything. The job we thought was our calling. The relationship we believed was divinely orchestrated. The purpose we once felt so sure of.
It’s not a weakness. It’s called ‘being human’.
🙏But here is the catch: the most meaningful divine promises are rarely fulfilled in comfort. They demand endurance. They ask us to walk through fire with blistered feet and still believe there is a garden on the other side and surely there is!
But hey, let us not romanticise it. There are days when the divine promise feels like a cruel joke. When our faith is threadbare. When we are crying in the shower so no one hears. When we stare at the ceiling at 2:47 a.m., wondering if we misread the signs. When we are hit so hard that the solution we once proffered to others doesn’t seem to make sense in our own situation.
That is when we need to remember: the pain is loud, but it is not permanent. The divine promise is quiet, but it is enduring.
Think of the people who changed the world. They didn’t get there by coasting through comfort. They were betrayed, broken, and misunderstood. But they held the line. Not because they didn’t feel pain—but because they refused to let it rewrite their story. Don’t allow the current frustrations to abort your divinely orchestrated future. Win through the process.
Remember, in life, some things are temporary and some things are permanent. Don’t allow the temporary to cause you to decide and choose wrongly to lose your permanence!
So, if you are in the thick of it right now, don’t let the storm lie to you. Your divine promise still stands. Just allow the pain to challenge your basic assumptions and let go of what doesn’t align with your destiny. This will help you to be truly transformed into that purpose-driven giant you were created to be.
Serenity Prayer
Dear Lord,
Grant us peace when pain clouds our vision,
Strength to endure what feels unbearable,
And faith to hold fast to the promise You made—
Even when our heart forgets what our soul knows is true. Amen
