When Hope Feels Distant and Discouragement Moves In
Hey friends, it’s Valerie.
It’s been a while. Thank you for your patience.
Just wanted to share something that’s been on my heart, and something I need to hold onto in this season. I hope it helps you too.
Moving to Florida has been an “adventure”, to say the least. We’ve had to trust the Lord, and then trust Him again, through circumstances that have stretched us in ways we didn’t anticipate.
When external pressures make mental health symptoms flare, you suddenly realize every tool you learned in therapy isn’t optional, it’s survival. And the core tenets of faith become more than just belief; they become a daily practice. Community and God’s presence become lifelines.
Then, in those daily struggles, you begin to see His faithfulness, sometimes in the smallest, quietest ways. He provides just enough for today, like daily manna in the wilderness.
But then, BAM. More disappointment/discouragement crashes in. Worse than before. You were praying for the opposite outcome, believing God would move differently, and now you’re left reeling. What you thought you knew about Him and what you hoped for your life feels shaken.
Depressive symptoms lingers in the background. Anxiety and panic steal your sleep. Focus slips away because your mind is too burdened to stay still. And the questions rise: Where is God? Why does He feel so far? Haven’t I prayed long enough? Haven’t I tried my best to obey?
So how do you hold on when it feels like you’ve got nothing left? How do you stay encouraged when discouragement and trauma hit so hard that everything you’ve known seems unsteady?
The psalmist in Psalm 77 captures that raw cry:
“I cry out to God; yes, I shout. Oh, that God would listen to me!
When I was in deep trouble, I searched for the Lord.
All night long I prayed, with hands lifted toward heaven, but my soul was not comforted.
I think of God, and I moan, overwhelmed with longing for His help.” (verses 1-3)
It’s tempting to stop there. I’ve been tempted to stop there. I’ve lamented and wanted to stop there. Especially when this feels like your reality. But the psalmist doesn’t end with despair. He shows us the way forward:
“But then I recall all you have done, O Lord;
I remember your wonderful deeds of long ago.
They are constantly in my thoughts.
I cannot stop thinking about your mighty works.”
(verses 11-12)
Here’s where I’ve landed: when it feels almost impossible to keep believing God—when the blows of life speak the opposite of what He’s promised me or others—I’ve learned to cling to what I know I’ve seen Him do. I hold on to the small, tender ways He shows His personal love in the everyday.
Because when disappointment and discouragement hit, hope can feel painful to carry. Sometimes it feels safer to let it go. But that’s the very place to bring it to God. Lament, like the psalmist did. If you don’t have the words, borrow them from Scripture. You’ll find you’re not alone. Many before us cried out, wrestled, even felt abandoned by God.
But after the pouring out, comes the remembering.
Remind yourself of what you know to be true about Him. Go back to the basics. Recall the ways He’s shown up in your life, no matter how small they may seem:
The breath in your lungs.
The ability to walk.
A bed to rest in.
Food on your table.
A friend to call.
If we have food, clothing, and what we need, Paul says that is enough. The rest is grace upon grace.
“Yet true godliness with contentment is itself great wealth. After all, we brought nothing with us when we came into the world, and we can’t take anything with us when we leave it. So if we have enough food and clothing, let us be content.”
—1 Timothy 6:6–8
So, if discouragement feels like your daily bread right now, look for the little things God is doing. Trust Him to help you believe for the rest.
And remember: lamenting is not weakness. Don’t rush past your pain or try to “spiritually bypass” it. Bring it to Him. Again and again.
But also, whenever you can, choose to remember. Hold onto those glimpses of His faithfulness. And let Him sit with you and lead you into His rest.
