When I got the news, I felt a heavy weight come across my spirit.
It was unreal. Surreal. Like someone had reached inside my chest and rearranged everything without asking.
In the weeks that followed, the real grief hit. And I mean grief — the kind you feel when someone dies. Because something did die. Not just the job. Me. The version of me I had built for 15 years.
I stopped eating much. I got sad in a way that felt permanent. I felt incomplete — like a sentence that just stops mid
I kept thinking: What will I do now? Who am I? I was my job. So if I’m not that anymore — who am I?
“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart.”
— Jeremiah 1:5
He knew you before the job. He knows you after it too.
I felt small. Offended that they could just let me go after everything I gave. Scared in a way I hadn’t felt since I was young. I was losing everything I thought defined me.
But here’s what I know now, standing on the other side of that grief:
I did not create myself. I was put here for a reason — and that reason was never my job title.
I have seen beauty in this world with my own eyes. Real beauty. And I refuse to act like it doesn’t exist just because I’m in a hard season.
And my moment is coming. I can feel it. It lives inside me — this desire to exist, to speak, to share, to love.
“But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles.”
— Isaiah 40:31
If you’re in the middle of your own identity collapse right now — I just want you to know you’re not alone. The woman who feels small today is not who she’s becoming.
Still here. Still His. And that’s enough.
— Cynn