The Comfort Zone
Would you please pass the mercy?
“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.”
2 Corinthians 3-4
We’ve all heard the phrase, “Misery loves company.”
In these words, written centuries ago, the apostle Paul offers a holy counterpart:
“...who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.”
When the Lord carries us through agonizing seasons, He is doing more than rescuing us from pain. He is also preparing us to recognize—and help heal—the pain of others.
Paul reminds us that the comfort Christ extends to us was never intended to stop with us. We are called to become living vessels of the same mercy that once sustained our own weary hearts.
For me, writing has provided an opportunity to speak honestly and vulnerably about the grief and pain I’ve waded through for the past 18 months.
In November 2024, our church took away the bookstore ministry my husband and I had managed together for 25 years.
Our lives were upended emotionally, spiritually and financially.
The grief was overwhelming.
To cope, I returned to writing—a passion I had put aside for 40 years.
At first, I started my Substack to sort through the layers of depression that wrapped around my heart like tangled jungle vines..
I found that I could wield my pen like a razor sharp machete slicing through the stranglehold my emotions had on me.
With each post, I was able to better articulate what I was feeling—grief, anger, gratitude, pain and eventually, hope.
To my astonishment, readers who had also suffered grief and loss commented that they were finding relief and hope in my words.
God was blessing me with a new ministry—one which allowed me to “comfort others with the same comfort” He had given me.
Sometimes the best way to navigate the darkness is to find someone who stands in the light of victory after walking through their own shadowed path.
I myself have found solace in the words of fellow Substack authors who candidly shared their own stories of heartbreak and redemption.
Only last week, I read a post by Derek Hughes about the grief he suffered when he stepped down from his role in church leadership.
Although he had voluntarily left the job, the emotions he felt afterwards were contradictory.
A reply he wrote in the comments moved me to tears.
Speaking of his conflicted emotions, Hughes wrote, “I spent a long time feeling like I should be grateful rather than gutted.”
This man had walked a path similar to mine.
There was so much comfort in that realization alone.
His words perfectly depicted the nauseating seesaw I’d been on for so long.
Hughes explained that while he was deeply grateful for the role he held, he also felt “gutted” because with the ending of his role came an unexpected loss of identity.
He was no longer needed by the people who at one time needed him most.
Wow.
Reading his words, I felt as if a rusty nail had been pulled from the bottom of my foot.
Relief.
Deliverance.
Hope.
Healing.
Comfort.
Somehow, Hughes was able to unknot the delicate chain of his tangled emotions and then graciously share his insights with the rest of us.
I am so thankful that he chose to be obedient to Paul’s words.
It is an honor and a privilege to write for this wonderful community.
For a year and a half now, many of my posts have detailed my long journey through grief, heartache and healing.
Sometimes I wondered if those posts were self-serving—there are countless other topics I could have written about.
But, dear readers, writing for all these months about my pain, my heartbreak, my battlescars and the way God has brought me through it all has turned my ashes into beauty.
Knowing that others have experienced God’s comfort through my story is wondrous.
I now know these things to be true:
There has been purpose in my pain.
Healing has replaced my heartache.
In prayer, I’ve thanked the Lord many times over for His compassion, His comfort and mercy and for the absolute treasure of turning this gift of writing into a ministry of hope that blesses others.
I’ve also told Him that I would go through all of that suffering again to have the life He has given me today—a life where I see His mighty hand in my past and especially in my future—a life where I am surrounded by a community of other creators who freely bare their souls and put their hearts on display so that someone like me can read their words and whisper, “I’m not the only one.”
Thank you fellow writers.
Let us continue to serve and encourage one another.
I appreciate your writing. It is encouraging and insightful. Thank you!!
Thank you for sharing this!