Have you ever smiled in a room full of people while quietly hoping someone would notice that you weren’t okay?
I have.
Last weekend, I stood in front of family and friends at my brother’s memorial service wearing my go-to poker face… the one I’ve gotten good at over the years. If you looked at me from across the room, you would’ve thought, “I’m holding up so well.”
And I was. On the outside.
But the truth? I was mentally drained and emotionally worn down. I’ve always felt I had to be the strong one. The one who keeps it together. Because somewhere along the way, I convinced myself that showing raw emotion meant I was falling apart. And falling apart was not an option.
Or so I thought.
There’s a quote by Victor Hugo that says, “Don’t tell me what they said about me; tell me why they felt so comfortable saying it to you.” When I read that, it really made me think. Sometimes people assume we’re fine because that’s what we show them. I wore that mask so well than no one ever knew what was going on inside.
And for years, that was me.
Before the memorial, I held it together the way I always do. But inwardly, I was barely okay. I remember praying, “God, please comfort me. Please make this better.” If I’m honest, I think part of me expected something miraculous. Maybe a holy whisper in the middle of the chaos. I wasn’t expecting a lightning bolt, though I wouldn’t have minded.
Instead, He sent people.
Text messages. Phone calls. Prayers. Some from the very people I least expected. It was an outpouring of support that caught me off guard. And in that moment, I realized something: sometimes the answer to our prayers shows up wearing shoes and holding a phone.
Psalm 34:18 says, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”I used to picture God hovering somewhere above me, but that day, I saw Him in the people who showed up. In the friends who checked in regularly, reminding me to give myself the same care and space I usually give to others. In family members who didn’t try to fix anything but were simply there for me. In the message that said, “I’m praying for you,” or “let me know if you need anything” at the exact moment I felt like I might unravel.
God was close. Just not in the way I expected.
And maybe that’s what some of you need to hear. You feel unseen when you walk into rooms and no one knows what’s really going on. You post the photo or send the “I’m good” text. You show up to work and laugh at jokes. Meanwhile, there’s a battle going on inside of you that nobody knows about.
But God does.
Hebrews 13:5 says, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.” Not when you’re strong, weak, or trying holding it together, and not even when you’re crying in the shower so no one hears you. He doesn’t step back because you didn’t say it out loud, or walks away because you’re the “strong one.”
He sees it all.
I used to think going through hard times alone was like a badge of honor. Like if I could survive it without breaking down publicly, I had somehow passed a test. But strength isn’t pretending you don’t need anyone… it’s recognizing that God often moves through people, and sometimes the ones we least expect.
When the messages kept coming in after the memorial, I had to let my guard down. I had to receive. And let me tell you something… receiving is harder than giving. I’m great at showing up for others. I will send the prayer and check on you. But letting someone check on me? That’s where I had work to do.
And that’s when another verse came alive for me: 1 Peter 5:7 says, “Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you.” Sometimes casting looks like answering the phone, or saying, “Today is hard.” Other times, it’s accepting help instead of brushing it off with, “I’m good.”
If you’re reading this and thinking, “That’s me. Nobody knows what I’m dealing with,” I want you to hear me clearly: God does, and He sees you. Nothing about your struggle is invisible to Him.
Even if I don’t know your name, even if we’ve never met, this is your reminder: you are not alone.
You may not get the answer you were hoping for, or feel instantly at peace. But watch for the text, or the family member or friend who checks in. Keep an eye out for the unexpected kindness… that might be God answering you.
So here’s my call to you: reach out to someone who may be going through a tough time. Send the text or make the call. And if you’re the one struggling, answer it. Let someone in. Not everyone deserves access, but someone does.
Hebrews 13:2 reminds us not to forget to show hospitality to strangers, because some have entertained angels without knowing it. You might be someone’s answered prayer simply by showing up.
Pray with me.
Father God,
Thank You for seeing me when I try so hard to be seen as “okay.” Thank You for loving me enough to send people when I asked for comfort. Forgive me for the times I’ve tried to handle everything on my own. Teach me how to receive the love You send. Help me to be honest about where I am without fear of looking weak. And for the one reading this who feels invisible, wrap them in Your presence in a way they cannot ignore. Remind them that You have never left. May You and You alone be glorified in our healing, honesty, and connections.
