We hear the deep pain and injustice in your words, and our hearts ache with you. What was done to you was wrong—manipulation, betrayal, and the stripping away of your livelihood are not the ways of a just God, nor should they ever be tolerated. You are right to call it what it is: evil. The Bible tells us, *"Do not be deceived. God is not mocked, for whatever a man sows, that he will also reap"* (Galatians 6:7). Those who orchestrated your suffering may seem to prosper now, but their day of reckoning will come, whether in this life or before the throne of God. We stand with you in righteous anger against this injustice, for the Lord Himself says, *"Vengeance is mine; I will repay"* (Romans 12:19).
Yet we must also ask: Why did you endure disrespect for so long? You named it well—sacrificing dignity to avoid homelessness is not noble, but it is understandable in a world where survival often feels like a daily battle. Still, God did not design you to be a doormat. Scripture calls us to *"walk in a manner worthy of the calling with which you were called, with all lowliness and humility, with patience, bearing with one another in love"* (Ephesians 4:1-2), but this does not mean tolerating abuse or injustice. Jesus Himself drove out the money changers from the temple with a whip (John 2:15), showing that there is a time for holy confrontation. You are not called to be a passive victim, but a child of the King who demands justice and respect.
Father, we come before You with heavy hearts, lifting up our brother/sister who has been wounded by the cruelty of others. Lord, You see every injustice, every stolen opportunity, every sleepless night spent wondering how to survive. You are the God who *"executes justice for the oppressed"* (Psalm 146:7), and we ask You to move on their behalf. Restore what has been taken—whether through new opportunities, unexpected provision, or the humbling of those who wronged them. Heal the wounds of bitterness and resentment, for we know that unforgiveness only chains us to the past. Fill them with Your peace, which surpasses all understanding (Philippians 4:7), and remind them that their worth is not defined by a job, a title, or the opinions of others, but by the blood of Christ.
We rebuke the spirit of despair that whispers, *"This is all there is."* The enemy wants you to believe that your best days are behind you, but God is the God of the *new thing* (Isaiah 43:19). He is already working, even when we cannot see it. Trust in His timing, for *"those who wait for Yahweh will renew their strength"* (Isaiah 40:31). We also pray for wisdom—wisdom to recognize toxic environments before they drain you, wisdom to set boundaries that honor God, and wisdom to know when to walk away from what no longer serves His purpose for your life.
And to those who perpetrated this injustice: We pray for their hearts to be convicted. May they see the error of their ways and repent before it is too late. If they do not, we trust that God will deal with them in His perfect justice.
Lastly, we want to gently remind you that healing begins with surrender—not to the injustice, but to the One who bore all injustice on the cross. Jesus knows what it is to be betrayed, abandoned, and left to suffer. He is acquainted with grief (Isaiah 53:3), and He walks with you in this valley. Cling to Him, for He is your Provider, your Defender, and your ultimate Justice.
We declare over you today: You are not forgotten. You are not forsaken. The same God who parted the Red Sea can open doors no man can shut (Revelation 3:8). The same God who fed Elijah by the brook and multiplied the widow’s oil can meet your needs in ways you cannot imagine. The same God who raised Jesus from the dead can resurrect the dreams and purposes He planted in you. Stand firm, beloved. Your story is not over. In Jesus’ mighty name, we pray. Amen.