Oh, beloved one, we hear the depth of your anguish, the raw pain of a heart that feels abandoned, betrayed, and crushed under the weight of suffering and unanswered prayers. Your words are filled with a grief so profound that it has turned into anger—anger toward the very God who created you, who claims to love you. We do not take your words lightly, nor do we dismiss the agony you are expressing. But we must speak truth in love, for your soul is at stake, and the accusations you are leveling against God are born out of deep wounding that only He can heal—if you will let Him.
First, let us acknowledge that your pain is real. Betrayal, heartbreak, shame, and the feeling of being forgotten by God are burdens no one should carry alone. Four years of crying out to Heaven, only to feel silence in return, is a weight that can crush even the strongest of spirits. You speak of Samson, a man who knew both the favor of God and the depths of despair, whose story is one of both incredible strength and tragic brokenness. You ask, *Where was God when Samson’s heart was shattered?* And we tell you this: God was exactly where He was when His own Son hung on the cross, crying out, *"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"* (Matthew 27:46). He was not absent. He was not indifferent. He was working in ways that human eyes could not see, in a story far greater than the immediate pain.
But let us be clear: your anger is not primarily at God’s silence—it is at the *interpretation* of that silence. You have come to believe that God’s lack of immediate action means He does not care, that His love is hypocritical, that He is a cosmic tyrant who toys with His creation. Yet this is the lie that the enemy wants you to embrace—the lie that God is withholding good from you, that He is cruel, that He has abandoned you. And if you cling to this lie, it will destroy you. For if God is not good, then there is no hope. If His love is a fraud, then all of Scripture is a deception, and we are the most pitiable of all people (1 Corinthians 15:19).
But we testify to you: *God is good.* His ways are not our ways, and His thoughts are not our thoughts (Isaiah 55:8-9). He does not measure love as we do—by immediate relief from pain or the fulfillment of our desires. His love was demonstrated most clearly not in sparing us from suffering, but in entering into it with us. Jesus did not die on the cross to say, *"I did My part; now figure it out."* He died to *redeem* your suffering, to give it purpose, and to promise that one day, *"He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; neither will there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain, any more. The first things have passed away"* (Revelation 21:4). That is not the empty promise of a distant God. That is the solemn vow of One who *knows* your pain because He bore it Himself.
You speak of your ex-girlfriend’s betrayal, of the shame that clings to you like a garment. You say, *"This shame will not be erased."* But we say to you: *The blood of Jesus erases shame.* You ask, *"Who can change the past?"* We answer: *The God who holds time in His hands.* He does not erase your memory, but He *redeems* it. He takes the brokenness of your story and weaves it into something greater than you can imagine—if you will surrender it to Him. Joseph, sold into slavery by his brothers, betrayed and forgotten, said to them years later: *"You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good"* (Genesis 50:20). That is the God we serve—One who turns ashes into beauty, mourning into joy (Isaiah 61:3).
You say, *"God knows my pain, and what?"* We say: *He knows it because He bore it.* Isaiah 53:4 tells us, *"Surely he has borne our infirmities, and carried our sorrows."* Jesus was *"a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief"* (Isaiah 53:3). He does not stand aloof from your suffering; He entered into it fully. And because of that, He can *heal* it fully—if you will let Him.
But here is the hard truth you must face: *Your bitterness is becoming a prison.* You are clinging to your anger toward God as if it is the only thing keeping you from drowning, but in reality, it is the very thing dragging you under. Hebrews 12:15 warns, *"Looking carefully lest anyone fall short of the grace of God; lest any root of bitterness springing up trouble you, and many be defiled by it."* Your accusations against God—calling Him psychopathic, unfaithful, merciless—are not just expressions of pain; they are *blasphemy*. And blasphemy separates you from the very One who can heal you.
You ask, *"What good is it if God knows my pain but does nothing?"* We ask you: *What if He is doing something—something you cannot yet see?* What if, in these four years of waiting, He has been refining you, preparing you, shaping you into a vessel that can carry more of His glory than you ever could before? What if the delay is not denial, but *preparation*? Romans 8:28 promises, *"We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, to those who are called according to his purpose."* That does not mean your pain is good—it means God is *using* it for good.
You speak of faith, as if it is a burden placed on your shoulders. But faith is not you *forcing* yourself to believe despite the evidence; faith is *trusting* God even when you cannot see the outcome. You say, *"If I fail, it’s my fault for lacking faith."* No—your faith is not measured by whether your prayers are answered *as you demand*. Your faith is measured by whether you will trust God *even when they are not*. Job, who lost everything, said, *"Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him"* (Job 13:15). That is the faith God honors—not faith that gets what it wants, but faith that clings to Him *even in the dark*.
You say, *"God has not healed my heart."* We ask: *Have you let Him?* Healing requires surrender. It requires you to lay down your right to anger, your right to bitterness, your right to demand that God explain Himself. It requires you to say, *"Lord, I do not understand, but I choose to trust You."* Until you do that, your heart will remain hardened, not because God refuses to heal you, but because you refuse to *let Him in*.
Now, let us address something else in your words: you speak of your ex-girlfriend’s betrayal, and the shame of her infidelity. We grieve with you over this sin against you. Adultery is an abomination before God (Exodus 20:14), and the pain it causes is deep. But we must ask: *Was this relationship honoring to God?* You speak of her as your "ex-gf," but Scripture does not recognize "girlfriends" or "boyfriends" in the way the world does. If this was a romantic relationship outside of marriage, then it was built on a foundation of fornication, which is sin (1 Corinthians 6:18). We do not say this to add to your pain, but to speak truth: *God cannot bless what He has called sin.* If this relationship was outside of marriage, then part of your healing must include repentance—for your own heart’s involvement in what was not holy. That does not mean you "deserved" her betrayal, but it does mean that God’s best for you was never found in a relationship outside of His design.
You say, *"I am dying in this pain."* We say: *Then die—to yourself, to your anger, to your demand for justice on your terms.* Galatians 2:20 says, *"I have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I that live, but Christ living in me."* There is freedom in surrender. There is life in laying down your right to be the judge of God’s goodness.
Finally, you must decide: *Will you let this pain destroy you, or will you let God redeem it?* You can continue to shake your fist at Heaven, demanding that God prove His love on your terms—or you can fall on your knees and say, *"Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!"* (Mark 9:24). The choice is yours.
Now, let us pray for you:
Heavenly Father, we come before You with heavy hearts for this beloved one who is drowning in pain, anger, and despair. Lord, You see the depth of their suffering—the betrayal, the shame, the years of crying out to You with no seeming answer. Father, we ask that You break through the hardness of their heart, not with condemnation, but with the overwhelming love of Your Son, Jesus Christ.
Lord, they have accused You of being unfaithful, of withholding mercy, of being indifferent to their pain. But we declare over them the truth of Your Word: *"The Lord is gracious, slow to anger, and abundant in loving kindness. The Lord is good to all. His tender mercies are over all his works"* (Psalm 145:8-9). Father, open their eyes to see that You are not the author of their suffering, but the Redeemer of it. You do not delight in their pain, but You are using it to draw them closer to You—to a place where they can know You not just as God, but as *Father*.
Lord, we rebuke the spirit of bitterness that has taken root in their heart. We bind the lies of the enemy that say You are cruel, that You have abandoned them, that their shame will never be erased. Father, let them encounter the truth of 1 John 1:9: *"If we confess our sins, he is faithful and righteous to forgive us the sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness."* Lord, if there is unconfessed sin in their life—whether from this relationship or from their anger toward You—bring conviction, bring repentance, and bring *freedom*.
Father, we ask that You heal their broken heart. Bind up their wounds (Psalm 147:3). Restore to them the joy of Your salvation (Psalm 51:12). Let them know, deep in their spirit, that *"the Lord is close to the brokenhearted, and saves those who are crushed in spirit"* (Psalm 34:18). Lord, replace their shame with the robe of Your righteousness. Replace their anger with Your peace. Replace their despair with hope in Christ.
Father, if they have not truly surrendered their life to You, we pray that today would be the day. Let them see that Jesus did not die just to give them a "get out of hell free" card—He died to *give them life*, abundant and eternal (John 10:10). Let them understand that salvation is not just about avoiding punishment, but about being *restored* to You, the Source of all love, all joy, all peace.
Lord, we ask for a supernatural encounter with Your presence. Let them feel Your love in a way they never have before. Let them know that You are not a distant God, but *Immanuel—God with us*. And Father, give them the strength to forgive—to forgive their ex-girlfriend, to forgive themselves, and yes, even to forgive *You* for the ways they feel You have failed them. Forgiveness is the key to their freedom.
Finally, Lord, we ask that You give them a vision for their future—a future where You are their portion, their joy, their satisfaction. Let them see that even if they never marry, even if their pain is not erased in this life, *You are enough*. You are their Shepherd, and they shall not want (Psalm 23:1). You are their Redeemer, and You will make all things new (Revelation 21:5).
We pray all this in the mighty, healing, redeeming name of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior. Amen.
Beloved, we urge you: *Do not harden your heart.* Today, if you hear His voice, do not reject it (Hebrews 3:15). Your pain is real, but so is His love. Your anger is understandable, but it will not bring healing—only surrender will. Will you let Him in? Will you let Him heal you? The choice is yours. Choose life. Choose Him.