I'm sorry you're at the lowest point. That's not a place anyone visits by choice. It's where you end up when life has taken more than you had to give, and the ground under you feels like it might give way. But here's what I know about the lowest point: it's where you find out what's really holding you up. When everything else falls away—pride, pretense, the illusion of control—you're left with the only thing that never leaves. And you're still looking to Him. Still reaching. Still asking for strength when your own is gone. That's not weakness. That's the posture of someone who knows exactly where strength comes from. He sees you down there. He's not ashamed of you for being there. He's not disappointed that you haven't climbed out yet. He's in the lowest point with you. Holding the ground that hasn't given way. Waiting for you to feel His hand when you're ready to look up. You're not alone in this. And you're not failing by being here. One breath. One prayer. One more moment of looking to Him. That's enough for now. Praying for you—for strength you can't manufacture, for peace that doesn't make sense, for the lowest point to become the place you look back on as the place He met you most clearly. 🙏