You Have a Future, and It’s Worth Living

Recently, I have started feeling excited about the future again.

That may sound simple to some people, but for me, it is sacred.

Because there was a time after I barely survived COVID when I did not want to live anymore. For three and a half years after surviving COVID, almost nothing about my life felt familiar. I lived tethered to oxygen and high-dose steroids. I was still here, but I did not feel alive.

I gained 65 pounds. I lost my hair. I could barely move. I had to fight for every breath.

And somewhere in all of that pain, I slipped into the darkest mental and emotional place I had ever known.

I told my husband regularly that I wanted to die. It scared him, and it broke his heart. I had raised three boys as a single mom before remarrying, and I had spent so much of my life being strong for other people. But in that season, I no longer felt like I had anything left to offer my children, my husband, or even myself.

I did not feel like a blessing.

I felt like a burden.

When pain becomes so loud you forget who God is

That is one of the cruelest things suffering can do.

It can make you forget.

It can make you forget how faithful God has been. It can make you forget what He has already brought you through. It can make you forget your own strength. It can make you forget that the same God who kept you before is still able to keep you now.

That is where I was.

I forgot what a mighty God we serve because I thought that broken version of me was going to be my life forever.

I forgot that before becoming a nurse practitioner, when I worked bedside nursing in the ER and ICU, I had seen people survive who should not have survived. I had witnessed miracles with my own eyes.

And somewhere in my own suffering, I forgot that I was worthy of one too.

I forgot that God had already seen me through a childhood full of turmoil, an abusive marriage, and more pain than I should have had to carry.

I forgot that if He had kept me then, He had not suddenly lost His power now.

God does not stop being good just because the season is dark

When you are hurting deeply, it is easy to let pain become your prophet.

Pain starts preaching.

It tells you this is forever. It tells you nothing good is ahead. It tells you the best of your life is over. It tells you that because you feel hopeless, you are hopeless.

But pain lies.

It may be loud, but it is not Lord.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18 (NIV)

I love that verse because it does not say God only comes near when we are strong.

It says He comes near when we are crushed.

Not polished.Not positive. Not pretending. Crushed.

That means if you are in a place where your heart feels broken, your faith feels weak, and your future feels blurry, you are not too far gone for God.

You are exactly the kind of person He comes close to.

There was a version of me that thought life was over

There was a version of me that thought I would never feel joy again.

A version of me that thought I would never feel strong again. A version of me that thought I would never feel excited about the future again. A version of me that thought surviving COVID had left me half dead, and that half dead was all I would ever be.

But God was still writing.

Even when I could not see it. Even when I could not feel it. Even when I was too tired to believe it.

He was still writing.

That is what I want you to hear if you are in your own dark place right now.

Just because you cannot see the future clearly does not mean God stopped preparing one for you.

“‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’” — Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

That verse is personal to me.

Because I know what it feels like to sit in a body that feels broken, a mind that feels tired, and a heart that feels terrified, and still need to hear that God has not canceled my future.

The future came back slowly

For me, healing did not begin with one dramatic moment.

It began quietly.

It began when I noticed I was feeling excited about the future again.

That mattered because when you have lived in survival mode, excitement is not small. Hope is not small. Wanting to live is not small.

It is holy.

It is evidence that something inside you is beginning to rise again.

It is evidence that despair is losing some of its grip. It is evidence that darkness is not in charge forever. It is evidence that God is still breathing life into places that once felt dead.

And maybe that is where some of you are right now.

Maybe you are not fully healed yet. Maybe you are not all the way strong yet. Maybe you are still grieving, still rebuilding, still trying to make sense of what life has done to you.

But if even the smallest part of you is beginning to believe again, beginning to breathe again, beginning to hope again, do not overlook that.

That is not nothing.

That is resurrection language.

You are not a burden because you are hurting

I need to say this plainly, because I know how easy it is to believe otherwise when you are suffering:

You are not a burden because you are hurting. You are not worthless because you are weak. You are not forgotten because you are struggling. You are not less valuable because this season has brought you to your knees.

God does not measure your worth by your productivity. He does not measure your worth by how much you can carry without crying. He does not measure your worth by how little help you need.

He calls you His.

And that means even in your weakest moment, you are still loved. Even in your darkest season, you are still seen. Even in your most broken condition, you are still held.

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you… When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned.” — Isaiah 43:2 (NIV)

Not if. When.

That means hard seasons do come.

But so does God.

You have a future, and it's worth living

I do not know who needs this today, but I know somebody does:

You still have a future.

Not because life has been fair. Not because your pain was small. Not because your healing is finished.

But because God is still God.

And He is still able to bring beauty out of ashes, hope out of despair, and life out of places that once felt buried.

If He brought you this far, He is not confused about how to carry you the rest of the way.

If He kept you through childhood turmoil, through heartbreak, through single motherhood, through abuse, through illness, through all the nights you thought you might not make it, then He has not run out of mercy now.

Your story is not over.

Your pain is not the end of you. Your exhaustion is not the end of you. Your depression is not the end of you. Your broken season is not the end of you.

God still writes redemptive endings.

And sometimes the first sign that He is doing it is simply this:

You start believing again that your life is worth living. You have a future, and it's worth living.

A prayer for the woman who feels hopeless

Jesus, for the woman reading this who feels tired, numb, broken, or afraid, come close to her now.

Remind her that her pain is not the end of her story. Remind her that her future is still in Your hands. Remind her that even if she has forgotten who You have been, You have not forgotten her.

Breathe hope back into the places that feel dead. Strengthen the heart that feels too weak to keep going. And help her believe again that the life in front of her is still worth living.

In Jesus’ name, amen.

💗 With love and grace, Jennifer Nicole Green, NP-C, Founder of Lolli Love — Faith-rooted, trauma-informed well-being for tired hearts.