A Heart Letter to the Woman Surviving Her Saturday
Happy Belated Resurrection Sunday, Sis.
It has been over four months since I last wrote to you in this space. If I am being completely honest, I did not plan on being gone this long. But life has a way of putting things on a sudden, hard pause. I hit a major roadblock recently when I lost one of my dearest, best friends. That loss plunged me into a deep well of depression, heavy grief, anger, self-doubt, and worry.
And just when I thought the emotional weight was all I could carry, my body took a hit, too. I literally faceplanted in a parking lot. Thankfully, I was not severely injured, but it forced my workouts to come to a complete halt right when I was already battling painful hip flexor issues. Mentally, emotionally, and physically, everything came to a grinding halt.
I realized that I had to take my own advice. I had to stop, step back, and truly gift myself a full cup. I could not keep pouring into this beautiful community from a place of profound, soul-level depletion. Sometimes, God makes us lie down in green pastures when we refuse to do it ourselves.
Today is Resurrection Sunday. Navigating time conflicts with my second job meant I couldn't be in the building today, but as I streamed Change Church online right from home, reflecting on what true life change looks like, it hit me anew. The resurrection story isn't just about the glory of Sunday. It is about surviving the devastation of Friday and enduring the heavy, confusing silence of Saturday.
My last four months? That was my Saturday. It was a season of silence, mourning, and resting in the dark. But Psalm 30:5 reminds us that weeping may endure for a night, or even for four long months, but joy does come in the morning.
What I learned in the quiet is this: A reset does not mean you have lost your purpose. Jesus promised us, "I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly" (John 10:10). Even when life gets unimaginably hard, and especially when you are navigating profound loss, that promise of an abundant life remains. Taking a pause to heal is not abandoning your assignment. It is the necessary, holy work that prepares you to rise and live fully again.
I am writing this today to tell you that I am moving forward. I am stepping back into the light, and back into this sisterhood. And I am doing it holding both my ongoing grief and my restored joy at the exact same time. It is not either/or, Sis. It is both/and. You can carry the loss of someone you love deeply and still find the strength to step back into your abundant purpose.
Whatever "Saturday" you might be sitting in right now, whether it is grief, burnout, physical pain, or a forced reset, please hold on. Give yourself permission to rest in the quiet. But know that your purpose is still waiting for you.
Sunday is coming.
As you step into this new week, I want you to say this affirmation out loud with me: "I give myself permission to hold my grief and my joy in the same breath. My pause was preparation, and my God-given purpose is still calling."
May you rest without guilt. May you grieve without shame. And may you know down deep in your bones that God is not finished with you yet.
P.S. I love you,
Dalila 💙