There was a season when I felt deeply lost. It began after my Papa died. His death shook something in me, and for a long time I felt like I was drifting, trying to figure out where I belonged and even why I was here. I was young, still trying to navigate middle school, trying to find myself, and underneath it all I was carrying grief I didn’t really know how to process.
It felt draining. I questioned my existence. I wrestled with whether I had a purpose. There were moments I felt like I didn’t belong in this world at all.
That was my “40.”
And if I’m honest, it wasn’t one moment of pain. It came in layers. Losing my dog years later reopened some of that hurt, and it felt like life crumbled all over again. I struggled in school too, and there was a point when it looked like I might not even graduate on time. A lot of things felt stacked against me.
But somewhere in all of that, God was still working.
Even when I didn’t fully see Him, He was carrying me. I made it through high school against the odds. And then something shifted when I stepped into church for the first time. I can’t fully explain it, but I felt God’s presence in a way that was real to me, and it also felt as if my Papa’s memory was no longer only tied to loss, but to something deeper—something healing.
That was a turning point.
I began to believe I was here for a reason.
What changed most wasn’t everything around me, but what I understood about myself. I stopped seeing my life as meaningless. I began to see purpose where I once saw emptiness. God helped me heal, not all at once, but truly.
Now my “41” is knowing my existence matters.
If you’re still in your “40,” give it time. Healing can take longer than you want, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t happening. Your existence matters. Your life has purpose. Even when you can’t see it yet, God has not forgotten you.