Some of God’s Greatest Mercies Feel Like Loss First.

Sometimes God’s pivot is mercy. Sometimes the plans we begged God to bless falling apart is actually His goodness toward us. Sometimes the relationship, friendship, or connection we fought so hard to hold onto ending is not punishment. Sometimes it is protection. Sometimes it is redirection. Sometimes it is love in a form we do not immediately recognize.

So often, the version of life we imagined for ourselves not unfolding the way we hoped can quietly become one of God’s greatest gifts.

Here’s a very small but meaningful example that convicted me of this, yesterday. As many of you know, I love playing tennis. I have a great group of people I usually play with, and yesterday I reached out to see if anyone was available. No one was. And I mean absolutely no one.

I was disappointed. Part of it was because I was feeling physically anxious the past few days and desperately needed an outlet. Tennis is one of the most effective ways that helps me emotionally, mentally, and physically with the chronic anxiety I live with. I was counting on it. But it simply was not happening.

Eventually, I accepted it. 

I did a small workout at home instead, and later that evening, after our daughter went to sleep, Chris and I ended up having one of the sweetest nights together.

We talked deeply about the things weighing on us.
We laughed.
We ate really good food.
We watched our favorite show right as it started getting especially good.
We connected in a way that brought so much peace and reassurance. 

And as I laid in bed that night, I found myself genuinely grateful tennis did not happen.

Because in our time together, my anxiety finally had room to breathe and be processed. The laughter healed something in me because we laughed deeply and often. Gratitude grew in my heart as I remembered how blessed we are to live near places that bring us joy and comfort. Even the episodes we watched ended so perfectly it felt like a gift. And somewhere in the middle of all of it, connecting with him made the anxiety I had been carrying feel smaller, lighter, and more manageable.

God had all of this waiting for me instead. 

Last night reminded me of something important. Sometimes what feels like disappointment is actually divine redirection.

Sometimes the interruption is holy. Sometimes the closed door is protecting us from missing the very thing our soul actually needs.

And yes, there are losses that hurt more deeply than missing a tennis day. There are disappointments that deserve to be grieved. There are prayers that feel painfully unanswered.

This is not about pretending those things do not hurt.

We do not bypass grief.
We do not minimize pain.
We do not force ourselves to call heartbreak easy.

But what if, while grieving honestly, we also held onto hope?

What if we remembered that we serve a God who is fully good, fully loving, and incapable of being cruel toward His children?

And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them. (Romans 8:28)

What if the redirection is somehow carrying goodness we simply cannot see yet?And what if, instead of only focusing on what was taken away, we slowly began noticing the unexpected ways God is still caring for us through it all?

Maybe we would start to see that His goodness was never absent.
Maybe it just arrived differently than we expected.