When Trust is Broken

Trust isn’t something we give freely.
It is earned slowly, layered carefully, and protected fiercely.

And once it’s stolen… it can feel almost impossible to give back.

I often find myself wondering what a relationship even is once trust is no longer a factor. If trust is the foundation, what remains when the foundation cracks?

The framework may still be standing.
The title may still exist.
The vows may still echo in memory.

But something essential has shifted.

The foundation of any healthy relationship should be built on trust and honesty. When we begin to trust someone, conversations deepen. Emotional connection begins to form. Safety is established. A friendship grows. And in that space, love flourishes.

Especially in marriage.

The love between a husband and wife is not casual — it is covenant. It is sacred. It is “till death do you part.” It is two becoming one, vulnerable and exposed without fear of harm.

But what happens when that covenant is fractured?

When lies replace truth.
When deception clouds clarity.
When manipulation distorts reality.
When addiction takes precedence over intimacy.
When dishonesty becomes a pattern instead of a mistake.

It takes you to an unrecognizable place.

A place where you question your discernment.
Where you replay conversations.
Where peace feels foreign.
Where dissatisfaction quietly begins to manifest in your soul.

It is not just disappointment.
It is disorientation.

Because trust is not simply about behavior — it is about safety. And when safety is compromised, the heart goes into survival mode.

You begin guarding instead of giving.
Withholding instead of welcoming.
Protecting instead of partnering.

And somewhere in the midst of that, you grieve.

You grieve the marriage you thought you had.
You grieve the version of the person you believed in.
You grieve the simplicity that once existed.

Broken trust does not just damage connection — it wounds identity. It makes you question what was real and what was performance.

But here is what I am learning in the quiet:

Even when human trust is broken, God remains faithful.

Where people fail, He does not.
Where deception lives, He is truth.
Where manipulation confuses, He brings clarity.
Where dishonesty destabilizes, He stands firm.

Trust may feel impossible to rebuild in the natural — but it was never meant to rest solely on human strength.

Psalm 118:8 says:

“It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in humans.”

That verse used to feel harsh to me. But now it feels protective.

God never intended for another human to be the sole keeper of our security. Marriage is covenant, yes — but ultimate trust belongs to the Lord.

When earthly trust is fractured, it drives us back to the One who cannot lie, cannot manipulate, cannot abandon, cannot betray.

“The Lord is faithful to all His promises and loving toward all He has made.” — Psalm 145:13

Faithful to all His promises.

Not most.
Not sometimes.
All.

Trust may take time to rebuild. Healing may require boundaries. Restoration may demand truth, repentance, and accountability.

But even if the relationship feels unrecognizable right now — you are not without foundation.

If everything else feels unstable, anchor yourself here:

God is trustworthy.

And when you build your peace on Him first, you will never be standing on shifting ground again.

Not Consumed

“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.” — Lamentations 3:22–23

There is a sacred weight that comes with truly loving and serving the Lord.

When you devote yourself to the Church.
When you pour into ministry.
When you show up for people again and again.
When you carry burdens no one else sees.

You strive to serve Him well. You want to be faithful. You want to honor God with your life.

And yet… life can still feel heavy.

Ministry can exhaust you.
Family responsibilities can stretch you thin.
Spiritual battles can drain your strength.
Unanswered prayers can test your endurance.

Sometimes the very ones who serve the most are tempted to be consumed by discouragement.

Jeremiah wrote Lamentations in the middle of devastation. Everything looked ruined. Yet in the center of grief, he declared:

“We are not consumed.”

Not because the chaos stopped.
Not because the future looked promising.
Not because he had answers.

But because of who God is.

The enemy would love to consume you with:

Distraction
Comparison
Offense
Fatigue
Anxiety about what’s next

He cannot steal your salvation — but he will try to steal your focus.

And here is the truth:
You will be consumed by something.

If we leave our hearts unguarded, the noise of the day will fill the empty spaces.

But Scripture calls us to something different.

Instead of being consumed by chaos, we must consume ourselves with His presence.

Fill the empty spaces with:

Worship music playing in your home and car
Quiet moments of prayer, even whispered prayers between tasks
Reading Scripture before reaching for your phone
Sitting still long enough to let His peace settle your spirit

When you fill your atmosphere with His presence, there is no room for bitterness to take root.
When you saturate your mind with His Word, fear has no place to grow.
When you practice worship in the middle of heaviness, discouragement begins to lose its grip.

His mercies are new every morning — but we must step into them.

Faithfulness is not striving harder.
It is surrendering deeper.

It is waking up and saying:

“Lord, this day is Yours.
This ministry is Yours.
These struggles are Yours.
Lead me through what I cannot see.”

We fight the good fight not by controlling outcomes, but by guarding our focus.

When life feels overwhelming, don’t allow the silence to be filled with the enemy’s whispers.
Intentionally fill it with worship.
Fill it with Scripture.
Fill it with prayer.

Because what fills you will shape you.

And when His presence fills you, the distractions that try to consume you simply have no room.

You may still walk through heavy seasons.
You may not yet see the light at the end of the tunnel.
But you will not be consumed.

Not because you are strong —
But because He is faithful.

Great is His faithfulness.
New mercy is waiting for you tomorrow morning.

And when you choose to fill yourself with Him, you will have strength to keep fighting the good fight — steady, surrendered, and unconsumed.

The Mug

I sat back in my chair, staring at my favorite coffee mug for what felt like an eternity. It was a moment of complete disassociation—lost in silence, resting in a place of nothingness—as the words Stay ROOTED stared back at me.

So many days I’ve looked at that mug and read those words. Some mornings it brought encouragement; other mornings, it brought tears. Yet never had those words pierced me the way they did in that moment of solitude.

It was a moment of revelation. A moment of awe. One that made me feel the weight of my testimony.

A testimony that declares my circumstances have not swayed my faith, my hope, or my love—because they are firmly anchored in Jesus Christ.

As PTSD wives, we tend to question our lives, our thoughts, our faith… and sometimes even our character. When the battles begin to rage, or when we find ourselves lost in a lonely place, everything can feel shaken. Our spiritual stability, trust, faith, and hope—things we often look to our spouse to provide—are the very things we were meant to seek from the Father all along.

That coffee mug is a constant reminder to shift my focus—from my circumstances to God’s unfailing mercies. Staying rooted has drawn me closer to the One who never changes. It reminds me that even when everything around me feels uncertain, He remains steady.

Scripture puts it beautifully:

“Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord,
whose confidence is in him.
They will be like a tree planted by the water
that sends out its roots by the stream.
It does not fear when heat comes;
its leaves are always green.
It has no worries in a year of drought
and never fails to bear fruit.”
— Jeremiah 17:7–8 (NIV)

Staying rooted doesn’t mean the storms stop coming. It means we are anchored deep enough to withstand them. Like a tree planted by the water, drawing life from a source far greater than the heat, the drought, or the chaos around it.

And sometimes, God uses something as simple as a coffee mug to remind us exactly where our roots belong.

Father,
Help us stay rooted in You when life feels uncertain and heavy.
When the storms come and our hearts feel weary, remind us where our strength comes from.
Teach us to draw from Your living water instead of our circumstances.
Anchor our faith deep in You—steady, unshaken, and secure.
And in the quiet moments, when we feel alone or overwhelmed, gently remind us that You are near, faithful, and unchanging.
Amen.

“A quiet moment, a favorite mug, and a powerful reminder: stay rooted in Him. 🌿 Even in the storms, His mercies never fail. #StayRooted #FaithOverFear #AnchoredInChrist”

When the Battle Is Over but the War Lingers

“The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” — Exodus 14:14

Is the most difficult part to bear in the midst of the battle, or the silent mental prison that lingers behind? Undoubtedly, it is the aftermath—the chaos, the battle, the struggle, in whatever form it arises. It’s the adrenaline in the moment, the anxiety, the blood boiling, the heavy silence that overtakes every ounce of your being as you whisper, this is not my battle… this is not my battle.

Let’s be honest—it is incredibly difficult to exercise full surrender in the hellish heat of the battle. Every part of our body is screaming to enter fight mode. We want to defend ourselves, lash out, say the harsh words we don’t mean… or maybe the ones we do. Raise our voices louder than we should, sometimes even scream in the face of the one we love most, just to cover the pain.

But it is the self-control and complete confidence we find in our glorious Maker that tames the flesh-driven spirit inside of us. Getting through these battles by allowing God to fight them—that is what makes a true overcomer. There is a quiet sense of victory that follows, a moment where we rest in His peace and hear Him whisper, well done, my child.

The Holy Spirit living within us is what keeps the fight under submission. He restrains what our flesh longs to release. Flight mode, on the other hand, can sometimes get the best of us in the moment. While retreat may feel safer and often produces less immediate damage than fight, it can still carry lasting consequences once the heat dies down. Running doesn’t heal the wound—it only delays the reckoning. Only surrender allows God to fully step in and restore what the battle tried to destroy.

Then… the aftermath comes.
If you’ve been there, you know.

The overwhelming feeling of failure. The self-doubt. The belief that everything that transpired is somehow your fault. It feels like a million demons chasing you as you push through heavy brush, desperately trying to make it to the feet of the Father. The thoughts. The emotions. Or maybe the absence of emotion—which can be an even darker place to sit.

This season feels endless, like a million days rolled into one. We bathe in it, suffer in it, and somehow—only by the grace of God—we function in it. Every single day in this lonely place, we put on a smile and face the world with strength that comes only from our Maker.

Through my belief in the power of Jesus, I have seen time and time again that this place is only a season. Resting in the truth that He will work even this for our good is what carries us through. That belief clears the path through the heavy brush, makes the demons flee, and opens the way to the feet of the Almighty.

That is where we should always strive to be—at the feet of Jesus.

Keeping faith and holding tightly to God’s promises is what brings us through the battles. It carries us through the moments when we feel like our worst selves, reminding us that through Him, we can become the best version of ourselves—regardless of the circumstances. When we listen to that quiet whisper, this is not my battle, we invite God onto the scene to fight for us, and we allow ourselves to rest in His arms through the silent mental war that always follows the storm.

Prayer

Father God,
In the heat of the battle and in the silence that follows, remind us that this is not ours to carry alone. When every part of our body is screaming to fight or run, help us to be still and trust You to move. Quiet our minds, guard our words, and tame the storm inside us with Your Spirit. When the aftermath feels heavy, and the mental weight tries to pull us under, lead us back to Your feet. Fill our lungs with breath, our hearts with peace, and our souls with the assurance that You are fighting for us. Teach us to surrender—not out of weakness, but out of trust. We lay it all down and rest in You.
Amen.

Strength for the Weary Warrior

When the wages of war get heavy, you will often find yourself lost in the loneliness of the battlefield. If you silently remain there for too long, it becomes a dangerous place—a dark place—where the enemy creeps into the silence to destroy what you have worked so desperately to sustain.

It is in those moments that the small whispers of defeat grow louder—reminders of your failures, fears of your inadequacies, and worries about not possessing the strength to face another day. These thoughts strike when you are at your weakest.

And yet, it is in these very moments that you must gather what strength you have left to employ your most powerful weapon: prayer.

Your weakest prayers—those uttered from a place of complete desperation—are not ignored; they are heard, treasured, and cherished by your Heavenly Father. He longs to protect you from the evil one.

In the darkest moments of your marriage, you must prioritize your spiritual well-being—not only to guard your own heart but to shield your family from the lies of the enemy. This is how you claim victory over your life, over your marriage, and over your home. This is how you find the strength to pray fervently, even when it feels like you have nothing left to give.

The Bible tells us:

“Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil.” (Ephesians 5:15-16)

Wives, we are warned in the living Word of God that our days on this earth are filled with evil. Every single day you will face battles against an enemy who wants to destroy your marriage, your faith, and your peace. That’s why, each day, you must make choices rooted deeply in faith—choices that put God first, then your spouse.

Your decision to stand in faith in the loneliest places—when no one else sees, when no one else knows—may be the very thing that brings hope, healing, and victory to your marriage.

There is Victory in the Name Jesus

There are moments in this life where the weight of spiritual warfare feels unbearable. I find myself paralyzed—not by what I see, but by the invisible war waged in my mind and spirit. It’s as if the enemy is constantly whispering lies of defeat into my ears. Without even realizing it, I begin to spiral—drawn into a pit of sorrow, pain, and overwhelming exhaustion. My heart races, my palms grow sweaty, and I close my eyes, taking deep breaths, wondering how I ended up in such a battle.

But even in that silence… the still, small voice of the Holy Spirit breaks through. And He reminds me who I am.
I am loved.
I am worthy.
I am treasured.
I am enough.

In that holy moment, I rise up and begin to declare victory over my life, my marriage, and my children. I remember that through faith in Jesus Christ, I hold the key to every victory. “The horse is made ready for the day of battle, but the victory belongs to the Lord” (Proverbs 21:31).

Ladies, hear me: you do not fight this battle alone.

When you step into the war for your marriage, your family, your peace—you’re entering a spiritual battlefield. And unless you’re prepared, the lies of the enemy will leave you paralyzed. But God is calling you to rise up. Prepare your horse. Put on your armor. Don’t let the pain of today keep you from the promise of tomorrow.

No matter how weary or broken you feel, seek the Lord. Stay steadfast in prayer. Immerse yourself in God’s Word. Set your mind and heart on the One who fights for you. Yes, some days it feels like you have no strength left to even pick up the saddle—but it is your faith that will carry you through. It is your faith that places the blood of Jesus over the doorway of your home. It is your faith that will break chains and set your husband free.

You may feel outnumbered. You may feel unseen. But let me assure you, heaven sees you. God is with you. And the victory is already won.

As the Bible tells us:

“Our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places.” (Ephesians 6:12)

So today, I challenge you—reject the lies of the enemy and rise up in truth.
Declare victory over your life, your husband, and your marriage.
This battle is not yours—it belongs to the Lord.
And through Him… you will see a VICTORY.

A Message to the Wives Who Carry the Weight of PTSD and Addiction

The weight of a spouse’s addiction is overwhelming for the wife who is trying to hold her family together. The Bible tells us, “the head of every man is Christ, the head of a wife is her husband, and the head of Christ is God” (1 Corinthians 11:3). When a wife of a husband with PTSD is forced to carry the weight of being the head of the home while silently suffering through his addiction, it can feel unmanageable—like it’s draining every ounce of joy left in her body.

But you are not alone. There are wives who share this same pain, who grieve the loss of the love they once knew. War changes people; it robs us of the men we married and forces us to learn how to love again in a new and often painful way. It brings suffering, heartache, and a daily battle that only God can give the strength to endure. Wives, pray for your husbands. Prayer changes things, and I am living proof that God is the only source of true healing in the midst of suffering. As Isaiah 41:10 reminds us: “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

The Power of Standing Together

No wife should have to face the battles of PTSD alone. When we come together as women who understand the unique challenges of loving and supporting a husband who is struggling, we find strength, healing, and hope in one another. There is power in shared stories and in knowing someone else truly understands the silent cries that often go unheard.

My heart is to be a safe place for the hurting—a listening ear for the voiceless who are carrying the heavy weight of being a PTSD wife. Together, we can lift one another up in prayer, share encouragement, and remind each other that God sees every tear and hears every unspoken cry. Galatians 6:2 tells us, “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.” We can walk this journey together, trusting that God’s strength is made perfect in our weakness.

Closing Encouragement

If you are a wife walking through the storm of PTSD and addiction, know this: you are not invisible, and your battle is not hopeless. God is your refuge and strength, and He has placed others in your path to walk with you. There is healing in connection, comfort in prayer, and hope when we choose to lift each other up.

Prayer:
Lord, we bring every hurting wife to You today. Be her peace, her strength, and her comfort. Surround her with women who understand her pain and can remind her of Your love. Bring healing to broken marriages and hope to weary hearts. In Jesus’ name, Amen.