Posted By Glenn Riley
Written by Ian Taylor
There are moments in life when everything you’ve leaned on feels like it’s crumbling.
For me, it was the day I lost both of my parents.
Not at once, but close enough that the grief didn’t have time to rest.
The two people who held me when I was weak, who prayed for me, who guided me — were gone.
Suddenly, I was no longer someone’s son.
I was just… alone.
Grief has a way of stripping you down to the bone. It’s not just about missing someone — it’s about losing your anchor, your shelter, your sense of home.
And in those moments, adversity doesn’t feel poetic or powerful.
It feels suffocating.
But it was in that space — that darkness — I began to understand something far deeper:
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned.”
(Isaiah 43:2)
God didn’t say if.
He said when.
Adversity is part of the journey.
Pain is part of the shaping.
Loss — as soul-shaking as it is — has the power to hollow us out so that grace can fill the empty space.
There were days I questioned why.
Why them? Why now? Why like this?
But over time, I stopped asking “Why?”
And I started asking, “Where are You in this, God?”
And slowly, gently, He answered.
In the silence of my sorrow, I felt peace I couldn’t explain.
In the loneliness, I found a strength that wasn’t my own.
And in my tears, I discovered that Jesus had wept too.
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
(Psalm 34:18)
I’m not going to pretend it was easy.
Grief doesn’t just vanish — it transforms.
But what I’ve learned is this:
When everything else is stripped away, what’s left is what truly sustains you.
And for me, that’s been faith.
Not a loud, shouting faith — but a quiet, holding-on-by-a-thread kind.
The kind that simply whispers, “I’m still here.”
If you’re facing your own adversity today — be it loss, illness, rejection, or hopelessness — I want you to know:
You are not alone.
Even if it feels like you are.
Even if no one calls.
Even if you’re too tired to pray.
God is not waiting for you at the finish line —
He’s walking with you in the fire.
“We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed;
perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned;
struck down, but not destroyed.”
(2 Corinthians 4:8–9)
You will make it through this.
Not because you’re strong —
But because He is.
And maybe, just maybe…
The fire you’re in right now is refining something precious in you.
Something that pain can’t destroy.
Something called purpose.
With hope,
Ian
Light At The End Of The Tunnel 