Christian statements like, “I know God is carrying you. He is fighting this battle for you. He is working good even in the midst of this,” all started to feel like words good for posters that hang in churches or points for sermons or memes for Instagram, but not real promises for real pain. My prayers that used to fill up pages of my journal were reduced to one question: Why? Praise songs that I used to sing with bold assurance and raised arms were now mere whispers. I could barely make myself mouth the words. The word hope has always been one of my absolute favorite spiritual perspectives. I
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