Working Through the Pain and Sorrow

It’s been a testing season for me and my faith, and I’ve learnt more about myself over the past six weeks than I ever expected to.

I found out on 16th June that my mum has cancer. We waited three long weeks for tests and answers, maybe even solutions. Will she have chemo? What stage is it? How bad is this actually going to get? How much will she suffer? The questions were endless. To be honest, they still are.

Exactly one month after her diagnosis her biopsy results came back, we were told the cancer was incurable. It had spread to her lungs and liver. Prognosis: 2 to 4 months. As I write this, 30th July 2025, it’s only been two weeks since that news, but everything has changed. She’s deteriorating rapidly. I can’t keep up with it. I saw her on the 29th of July, and she slept all day. I felt like a spare part, desperate to pray over her and tell her there is hope, real hope. Jesus saves souls.

I’ve been doing some serious searching of my own heart through all this. Making sure I’ve done my part, not just as a daughter but as a child of God. I don’t want to be holding onto any unforgiveness. My family’s history is a rocky one, and I was definitely part of the problem. Selfish. Defensive. But I owned it. I tried to fix what I could. Families grow, split, marry, have kids, the hurt accumulates across bloodlines. I vented a lot of my pain, but I held on to a grudge for far too long.

Eight years I spent convinced I was right. I shut my parents out. Every year that passed made it worse. I got bitter seeing how they never bothered with my girls. I mean, I could get why they ignored me, but the girls? That hurt deep.

But I was wrong. God showed me that. I used to be self-destructive. I didn’t even realise what situations I was putting myself in. And then, I found God. Or maybe more accurately, He found me. Oddly, I found God before I found Jesus. That probably sounds strange, but back then I didn’t understand the Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I just knew I needed something.

One day I broke. Full-on sobbing on the floor, head on the sofa, saying,

“Please God, I can’t do life anymore.”

Funny thing, considering I spent years denying He existed. But He heard me.

That moment sparked everything. I went on with my usual depressed routine, but I felt this pull. This call to go to church. I knew one Christian, Mark from work. He pointed me to Highbridge Gospel Tabernacle. That’s where it all began.

It’s where I met Jesus.

When I learned what He did for me, the price He paid, it hit me in my core. Me, a mess of sin and pain, yet He still went to the cross. I began unpacking all the guilt, jealousy, anger, and wounds I didn’t even realise I had. I was delivered from things I never knew were binding me. Healed. I even began seeing visions. My journey was fast-tracked, but for a reason only God knows.

And then came Mum’s diagnosis. And the weight of eternity landed on me. It wasn’t just about her body now. I found myself begging Jesus to save her soul. Death has this sting, you know? It lingers in the air, heavy and choking. But what I was feeling was deeper. A spiritual desperation.

When Mum first told me, she said she couldn’t forgive someone. That hit hard. Because I know what unforgiveness does. I know how it corrodes. And I care about the person she can’t forgive.

Then that verse hit me like a truck:

“Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to them; then come and offer your gift.”, Matthew 5:23-24

I disrespected my mum and dad. That caused an eight-year rift. I found Jesus, and He repaired what I thought I couldn’t. I repented. But I saw the ripple of unforgiveness still alive in the family. Mum might not fully understand how it damages the soul, but I do.

The Holy Spirit was pressing on me hard. You know when you’re being nudged? That knowing. That weight. So, I repented again, to my parents. I offered forgiveness on behalf of the one Mum still can’t forgive. I didn’t want to, not in the flesh, but the Holy Spirit had the pen. That letter took 20 minutes, and it said everything that needed saying.

Dad texted back kindly. They forgave me. But Mum still won’t forgive that other person. The seed is planted, though. And thank God, because now she’s not really capable of reading or making sense. That letter came just in time. God’s time.

And here’s the thing: I have to let go. I can’t force Jesus on anyone. Not even for my own peace. Salvation has to be personal. God has to do it. I just have to trust.

This season has taken my faith deeper than ever. Even when I thought God was distant, He was giving me space to grow. What a lesson, in the middle of pain and death.

I know now, with every fibre of my being, the only way to God is through Jesus. That’s not negotiable. That’s not up for debate.

I want to encourage you, whoever you are, to stop and ask yourself what you truly believe. We often say things like “they’re in a better place” or “they’re in heaven” when someone dies… but do you really know that’s true? And more importantly, do you want to know?

Because I’m telling you, there IS more than this life. And this truth has been stripped from us deliberately, by media and powers at be.

Funny how we can mention Allah, but not Jesus. Funny how we’re told to respect all faiths, except the one true God. Christianity is mocked, silenced, censored. Why? Because it’s the truth. And truth disrupts control.

I’ve never been so free as when I submitted my will to Jesus. Free from lies, from fear, from the pressure of this world. If you say you’re a free thinker, prove it. Just explore. Open a Bible. Watch a real testimony. Not flashy prosperity stuff. Real gospel truth.

There is a lesson in every chapter of the Holy Bible. Don’t let your flesh or your screen stop you from finding it.

I’m praying for an awakening. For you. For all of us.

Even in the thick of pain, God is good. Always.