Oh, beloved, we hear the deep cry of your heart, and we are moved with compassion for the suffering you have endured. Your honesty is a testament to your love for the Lord, even in the midst of such profound brokenness. You have carried burdens no one should have to bear alone, and we want you to know that you are seen, you are loved, and you are not forgotten by God. Let us walk with you through Scripture and prayer, reminding you of the truth that can set you free from these chains of fear, false condemnation, and the lie that your worth is tied to your effort.
You have shared how trauma has twisted your understanding of prayer, Bible reading, and even God’s love for you. What was meant to be a lifeline—communion with the Father—became a source of pain because, in your desperation, you tried to *earn* what God freely gives. But hear this truth from His Word: *"For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, that no one would boast"* (Ephesians 2:8-9). Your standing before God was never meant to depend on the length of your prayers or the hours you spent in Scripture. It was always meant to rest on the finished work of Jesus Christ. You cannot out-pray, out-read, or out-perform God’s love for you. It is *unconditional*, not because of who you are, but because of who *He* is.
You also shared the fear that if you stop "doing," God will forget or leave you. But Jesus Himself said, *"I will never leave you nor forsake you"* (Hebrews 13:5). Your worth is not measured by your productivity, your spiritual disciplines, or even your ability to "hold it together." You are precious to Him simply because you are His. The psalmist David, who knew deep despair, wrote, *"The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart, and saves those who have a crushed spirit"* (Psalm 34:18). You do not have to pretend to be whole before Him. In fact, it is in your brokenness that He draws nearest.
We also see how the enemy has used your past to distort your view of God’s character. The trauma of your father leaving has left scars that make it hard to trust that God will not do the same. But Earthly fathers, no matter how faithful or faithless, are not a true reflection of your Heavenly Father. Jesus told us, *"Which of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!"* (Matthew 7:9-11). God is not a Father who abandons. He is the Father who *ran* to meet the prodigal son (Luke 15:20), who pursues you even when you feel unworthy, and who longs to gather you in His arms as a hen gathers her chicks (Matthew 23:37).
You mentioned the fear of reading Scripture because of the panic it triggers. We want to gently remind you that healing is a process, and God is not rushing you. It is okay to take small steps. Start with a single verse, like *"Come to me, all you who labor and are heavily burdened, and I will give you rest"* (Matthew 11:28). Let that truth sink into your soul. You do not have to read chapters at a time to prove your devotion. God is not a taskmaster; He is your Shepherd, leading you beside still waters (Psalm 23:2). If reading the Bible feels overwhelming, try listening to it instead. Let the Word wash over you like a balm, not a demand.
And oh, how we ache with you over the false condemnation that plagues your mind. The accuser of the brethren (Revelation 12:10) wants you to believe that your struggles are proof of God’s displeasure, but Scripture says, *"There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus"* (Romans 8:1). When those lies come, combat them with truth: *"If God is for us, who can be against us? He who didn’t spare his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how would he not also with him freely give us all things?"* (Romans 8:31-32). You are not being punished. You are being *refined*, and there is a difference. Gold is purified in the fire, but the refiner never leaves the furnace (Malachi 3:3). He is with you in this.
Lastly, we want to address the exhaustion you feel—the bone-deep weariness of fighting this battle. Jesus invites you to lay that down. *"Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart; and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light"* (Matthew 11:29-30). Resting in the Lord does not mean passivity; it means trusting Him to fight for you while you cease striving (Exodus 14:14). You do not have to fix this. You do not have to "earn" His help. You only have to surrender.
Now, let us pray for you, beloved, with the authority and love of Christ:
Heavenly Father, we come before You on behalf of this precious child of Yours, who has walked a path of such deep and prolonged suffering. Lord, You see the wounds that no one else can see—the trauma that has twisted their understanding of Your love, the fear that has made prayer and Your Word feel like a burden rather than a refuge. Father, we ask that You would break the power of these lies in Jesus’ name. Remind them that Your love is not earned, but freely given. That Your presence is not dependent on their performance, but on Your faithfulness.
Lord, we rebuke the spirit of false condemnation that has tormented their mind. By the blood of Jesus, we declare that there is *no* condemnation for those who are in Christ. Replace the accusations of the enemy with the truth of Your Word. Let them hear You whisper, *"You are mine, and I will never let you go."* Heal the trauma that has made prayer and Scripture feel unsafe. Restore to them the joy of simply *being* with You, without fear or striving.
Father, we ask that You would meet them in their exhaustion. Carry them when they cannot take another step. Be their strength when they are weak, their hope when they are despairing, their peace when anxiety rises. Lord, You have promised that *"the one who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus"* (Philippians 1:6). We cling to that promise now. Bring to completion the work You have started in their life. Let them see Your hand moving, even in the darkness.
We pray for supernatural rest—a rest that transcends understanding (Philippians 4:7). Teach them what it means to cease striving and to trust You fully. Break the cycle of self-torture and the false belief that they must "fix" everything. You are their Redeemer, their Healer, their Provider. Let them release the need for control and surrender to Your sovereignty.
And Lord, we ask that You would prove Yourself bigger than their pain, their fear, and their overthinking. Show Yourself strong on their behalf. Let them experience Your love in tangible ways—through Your Word, through Your people, through unexpected blessings. Remind them that You are not distant, but near. That You are not silent, but speaking. That You are not indifferent, but deeply, passionately involved in every detail of their life.
We declare that this season of despair will not have the final word. You are making all things new (Revelation 21:5), and we trust You to bring beauty from these ashes. Strengthen their heart to wait on You, even when the waiting is hard. Fill them with hope that does not disappoint (Romans 5:5).
In the mighty and precious name of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior, we pray. Amen.
Beloved, we want to leave you with this: You are not a sinner for struggling. You are not failing God for being broken. He is not disappointed in you for feeling lost. He is *with* you in the lostness, and He is leading you home. Keep speaking to Him honestly—that is a prayer He treasures. Keep reaching for Him, even if it’s just a whisper. And remember, the same God who parted the Red Sea, who raised Lazarus from the dead, who conquered the grave—*that* God is fighting for you. He has not forgotten His promises to you. He will bring you through. Rest in that. Cling to that. And when you cannot cling, let Him hold you. You are loved more than you know.
