A Prayer for When It All Fell Apart
God, I remember it. The moment everything shattered.
Not gradually. Not gently.
It broke like a bone you know won’t ever set quite the same.
A look in her eyes that said she was already gone.
A message that wasn’t meant for me.
A confession I didn’t see coming.
Or maybe it was silence—cold, final silence.
Whatever it was, I knew.
Knew we wouldn’t come back from it.
Knew no apology could undo it.
Knew I had just witnessed the death of something sacred.
And I’ve been carrying that moment like a scar ever since.
I tried to rewind it.
Tried to explain it away.
Tried to be “strong” and “mature” and “rational.”
But the truth is—I broke too.
So I bring that moment to You.
The ugly, raw, unfinished moment.
The moment I lost her.
The moment I lost myself.
The moment I thought I’d never recover.
You saw it.
You were there in the wreckage.
You haven’t left.
So stay with me here, in the rubble.
Don’t let this be the end of my story.
Let it be the beginning of healing.
Even if I don’t know what that looks like yet.
Amen.