In November 2023, my life was shattered when my beloved father passed away. His death was more than the loss of a parent – it marked the beginning of a painful season filled with grief, betrayal, and abandonment. What followed was not just mourning, but rejection by the very people I called family.
My brother and sister-in-law, with whom I had shared countless memories, suddenly turned cold. The house that once held love and laughter became a place of hostility. Without compassion or understanding, I was pushed out, emotionally, psychologically, and eventually physically. My brother, the one I hoped would defend me, became my persecutor. Words were used as weapons, and manipulation replaced care.
And then came the silence of my mother, perhaps the most painful part of all. Bound by cultural favoritism, loyalty to her son, and love for her grandchildren, she chose not to speak. She did not raise her voice for me or offer the comfort I so desperately needed. Her silence felt like betrayal, and her inaction added to the weight already crushing my spirit.
As an unmarried woman suffering from a lifelong hormonal condition that affects my fertility, I was already made to feel “less than” in many ways. This familial rejection compounded that pain, making me feel invisible and worthless. With nowhere to go, I sought refuge with relatives, only to find more disappointment. Though I was offered a roof, I was constantly reminded that I didn’t belong. I was treated not as family, but as a burden, as someone merely tolerated.
The emotional weight of those days was unbearable. But in the darkest corners of that rejection, I encountered something far greater than human love: I met Jesus in a deeper, more intimate way than ever before. When everyone else left, He stayed. When every door closed, He opened another. When I was forgotten, He called me His own.
Jesus became my strength. He was with me through every sleepless night, every tear, every moment of hopelessness. He never let me go hungry. He never let me beg. He provided not only emotionally and spiritually but also physically and practically.
Out of nowhere, He blessed me with a job – one that brought not just income, but dignity and respect. It came at a time when I had no direction and no idea how I’d support myself. His provision was timely and miraculous. With that opportunity, I was able to rent my own apartment – a place of peace and healing. It wasn’t just four walls; it was a sacred space where I could breathe again, pray again, and begin rebuilding my life.
In my solitude, I found strength. Jesus showed me that my value was never tied to family approval, my health, or my relationship status. My worth was determined by His love – unconditional and unchanging.
Every tear I cried, He counted. Every prayer I whispered, He heard. Every night I felt unloved, He whispered back: “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” He used my pain to shape me into a woman of unshakable faith. What others used to try and break me, God used to build me. He restored not just what I lost, but who I am.
I am no longer defined by the ones who left me, but by the One who stayed. I don’t stand before the world as just a survivor. I stand as a testimony of grace, healing, and divine intervention.
To anyone reading this who feels invisible or rejected: You are not forgotten. Jesus sees you. He knows your pain. And He will not abandon you. He will walk with you, just as He walked with me, turning rejection into restoration and sorrow into strength. I was pushed out, belittled, and silenced, but He raised me up, honoured me, and gave me a voice.
I now live not in bitterness, but in gratitude. Not in fear, but in faith. Not in shame, but in the light of His love. God has been my Provider, my Protector, and my Peace.
So, when you feel like you have nothing left, remember, Jesus is enough. He will not only sustain you, He will restore you. He will lift you out of the pit and set your feet on solid ground. If He did it for me, He can do it for you.
I am chosen. I am seen. I am loved.
And so are you.
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