Finding Quiet Hope When Life Feels Unfair
There are moments when the question comes quietly. And then there are moments when it crashes into the heart like a wave:
Why them… and not me?
It is the question many think, but few dare to say out loud. It rises after a diagnosis, an accident, a funeral, or a goodbye that comes too soon. It forms when someone who still had so much to live for is suddenly gone.
They had family. They had people who needed them. They had plans, connections, love, purpose.
And yet… they are the ones taken.
Meanwhile, there are others who feel unseen, unfulfilled, or alone, who wake up each day wondering why they are still here while others are not. So the question lingers:
Why them… and not me?
The Question That Comes From Grief
This question does not come from rebellion. It comes from sorrow. It is born from standing at the edge of loss and trying to make sense of a world that feels upside down.
Scripture is filled with people who asked this same question, Job, David, Jeremiah, even Jesus. They cried out not because they lacked faith, but because they were honest.
To ask “why” is not weakness. It is the language of the brokenhearted.
For Those Who Are Grieving Right Now
There are moments when no explanation can reach the pain. No verse feels strong enough.
No future hope feels close enough to matter. And that is okay.
Grief is not something to solve, it is something to carry. It moves through the body in waves.
It steals breath. It bends time.
If the heart feels shattered, it is because love was real. There is no rush to feel better. No need to be strong. No expectation to understand. Even silence is prayer. Even tears are holy. And if peace feels far away, know this:
You are not walking through this alone.
When Life Feels Backwards
There is a pattern many notice in their pain: Those who seem to have so much to live for are taken too soon. Those who feel forgotten, disconnected, or stuck… keep going.
It feels backwards. It feels unfair. It feels wrong. But what if being “left” is not the same as being “spared”?
What if the ones who have gone have completed what they were sent to give, and the ones who remain are still carrying something that has not yet been released?
The Quiet Hope That Often Goes Unseen
There is a truth rarely visible in grief: God does not measure a life by what it has received…
but by what it is meant to release. Some lives burn brightly and briefly. Others are shaped slowly through loss, silence, and longing.
Not because they are forgotten, but because they are still being formed.
To still be here does not mean being overlooked. It may mean being preserved for something yet to come.
To Those Who Are Asking “Why?”
You are not wrong for wondering. You are not weak for hurting. You are not forgotten because you remain.
Sometimes the ones who feel the most empty are the ones being prepared to become wells for others. Not because they are strong. Not because they are special.
But because they know how to sit with sorrow… and not turn away.
A Prayer for the Broken
Lord, for all who are grieving, for all who are confused, for all who feel left behind, Hold them in Your peace. Remind them that their lives still matter. And in Your time, reveal why they are still here.
Amen.
Troy P Zehnder 