God’s Compassion and Healing: The Night My Heavenly Father Held Me Together
- meetgodattheedgeof
- Nov 5
- 3 min read
Today’s testimony is brought to you by our Heavenly Father.
Nine years ago, I was in a helpless state. I had just lost the most important man in my life—my dad. That loss hit me harder than I could ever have imagined. I was reeling, broken, and didn’t care if alcohol consumed me. I didn’t care much about where I’d end up.
The only thought that pulled me back from the darkness was my children. I knew they needed me, and I realized that destroying myself through drink was a coward’s way out. Even then, God’s compassion and healing were already at work, though I couldn’t see it yet.
God used my wife in that season. She was obedient when I wasn’t. She knew we needed to find a church, even if she couldn’t explain why. Through a friend’s recommendation, we found a small local church called Journey the Church. We walked in one Sunday morning and were greeted by smiling faces—handshakes, introductions, genuine warmth. It felt different. Real.
Something I hadn’t experienced in a long time.
By the time we found a seat, I had already made new friends.
Over the next few months, we got involved as much as our schedules allowed. It felt good—almost like a breath of life again. But even with all that, a dark cloud still followed me. The storm inside only seemed to calm when I was at church. As soon as I left, it came right back. I was still fighting depression, sadness, and the heavy weight of loss.
Then came Christmas time. We were looking forward to Journey’s Christmas program—the one everyone talked about. We arrived early, found seats on the right side of the auditorium, and waited for the service to begin.
When the pastor asked everyone to stand and pray, something stirred inside me. It was as if something—or Someone—was pulling on me. As we prayed, I could feel the pastor’s words. It was like he was praying the exact prayer buried deep in my heart.
When I opened my eyes, there was a lightness—like a weight had been lifted. I didn’t know what it was, but I liked it.
Then worship began. The songs hit differently. Every lyric felt personal, alive, like God was speaking directly to me. I started to get emotional. My heart whispered, “Lord, what are You trying to tell me?”
Then it happened.
The next song began, and as I hung my head, I thought, “I wish my dad were here.” In that exact moment, I felt an arm wrap tightly around me—strong, real, undeniable. It wasn’t my imagination. I opened my eyes expecting to see a friend beside me, but there was no one there. No one visible, anyway.
Tears filled my eyes. Did God just hug me? Was it my dad?
Right there, I knew. It was my Heavenly Father—meeting me in my pain, wrapping me in His presence, reminding me that I was never alone.
That moment broke through everything the enemy had tried to build around me. Depression, grief, doubt—all began to crumble under God’s compassion and healing. He saw the wound I had carried since losing my dad and reached out to restore what was broken.
That night changed everything.
I am here today on fire for the Lord—not because of my strength, but because of His mercy. Because my wife listened to the Spirit. Because a few obedient people at church reached out with genuine love. And because God’s compassion and healing met me right where I was—lost, hurting, and in desperate need of my Father’s arms.
Praise God, it worked. I was held together by the One who never lets go.
