Bitter Roads, Better Endings

Somewhere between holding it all together and falling apart…
I got tired. Soul-tired. Not loud, not obvious, but in a quiet, “God, if I don’t wake up tomorrow, that’s fine” kind of way.

Because life didn’t just drain me, it wrung me out.
Until I was brittle, bitter, and barely recognizable.
Yes, people broke me… but I broke some people too.
With silence. With distance. With words I can’t take back.

I became someone I promised I’d never be...
I gave what I didn’t have. Offered love with hands that were shaking. Laughed with lips that were lying.
And piece by piece, I kept giving myself away until there was no me left for me.

Joy was my costume and chaos, my perfume...familiar, but I was choking. And somewhere in the mess, I stopped believing healing was possible. Stopped hoping for better. Started settling for empty.

That line in the song:
“A heart with no beat, a singer with no song to sing”
Yeaaa. I was surviving on autopilot.
Functioning, but not living.

And I was sooo angry, sooo bitter.
Bitter because I had to face the messes I made.
Bitter because I hurt people and couldn’t undo it.
Bitter because shame made me believe I didn’t deserve another chance.
Bitter not just from what was done to me,
But from the truth of what I had done too.

And then came that part of the song:
“Almost out of here. See, I was almost done.
I wanted to die...from how I was doing wrong”
I felt that in my gut.

I remember nights when I begged God to just make it stop.
The ache, the shame, the weight of feeling like I'd messed up too much to ever be whole again. I cried out, not even knowing what I needed, just knowing I couldn't keep going like that.

And then… He came. Quietly. Gently. Faithfully. 

Just like the song said:
“Jesus took me in. He held me close. Gave me love. Refilled my heart. Helped me grow.”

I don't even know when it happened exactly, but one day I realized I wasn't just surviving.
I was healing. I was becoming.
And not because I figured it out,
but because His love didn’t leave me where it found me.
It picked me up. It sat with me. It grew me.

And that’s what I want you to know. He’s available anytime. You don’t have to clean yourself up first. 

You don’t have to “get it together.” You just have to be honest.
Because He already sees the tears. The bitterness. The nights you want to give up. And He’s not afraid of any of it.

Jesus is still taking people in.
Still healing. Still making us better.
But that’s the hardest part, isn’t it?
Believing something can still bloom from the ruins.
Believing that after all the things that hurt you, broke you, betrayed you, you still get to heal. You still get to become.

Jesus met me when I was done pretending.
When I was crying into my pillow at 2 a.m.
When I said, “God, if You’re still there… say something. Please.”
And He didn’t shout. He just stayed.
He held me when I couldn’t hold myself.
He reminded me, “You’re still mine.”
And that truth began to pour into all the places I thought were too far gone.

It didn’t fix everything overnight.
But it gave me the strength to try again the next day.
And the day after that. Until one day… it didn’t hurt as much.
Until one day… I looked in the mirror and said, “You’re healing.”

So if you’re in a dark place right now,
If your heart feels numb, if your prayers feel weak, if you’re barely hanging on, please hear me when I say:
This is not the end of your story.

You’re allowed to grieve what broke you.
You’re allowed to feel bitter.
But don’t unpack and live there.
You were not made to stay in the pain.
You were made to rise. You were made to bloom.

So take one more step.
Even if it’s small. Even if it’s shaky.
You’re not walking alone.
God is not finished with you yet.

Scripture to hold onto:
Psalm 27:13
"I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living."

The bitterness does not have to win.

It can better. Not perfect. Not painless. But better.
And you, my love, you can get better too.