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2 Corinthians 7:5

“…our flesh had no rest, but we were troubled on every side; without were fightings, within were fears.”

As I read this verse today, something in it settled deeply into my heart. I couldn’t help but think of the real battles so many I love are facing right now. Some are fighting cancer with every ounce of strength they have left. Another is slowly recovering from a stroke, learning again what their body once did so easily. Another is battling Alzheimer’s and others carry hidden pains and unresolved ailments that wear them down day after day. And then there are the quiet heartaches—the emotional burdens no one sees, the wounds that carve deep aches within.

All of them… all of you… were on my heart as these words washed over me.

There are seasons when Paul’s words become our own.

When the body is weak…

when the mind is weary…

when the heart feels stretched thin.

He said, “our flesh had no rest.”

Someone fighting physical issues knows this phrase deeply—

your body feels like a battlefield,

your strength comes in small doses,

your sleep offers little relief.

He said, “we were troubled on every side.”

Someone recovering from a stroke understands this as well—

simple tasks feel uphill,

progress comes slowly,

emotions shift unexpectedly.

He said, “without were fightings…”

The  patient feels the fight in every appointment,

every scan,

every treatment.

He said, “within were fears.”

They know the silent fears—

Will I regain this? Will I return to where I was?

Will my life ever feel normal again?

Paul is describing a heart pressed, squeezed, and overwhelmed.

A place where the fight is real and the fears are loud.

But then—

God breathes two words into the darkness.

“Nevertheless God”

These words change everything.

Not by removing the battle,

but by entering it.

Not by erasing the fear,

but by overruling it.

Not by promising a life without struggle, but by promising His presence in the struggle.

Your body may feel exhausted,

your thoughts may wander,

your emotions may waver—

Nevertheless God is with you.

He is your strength when treatment drains you.

He is your peace when scans approach.

He is your steady hand when you feel shaken.

He walks into the chemo room before you do and sits beside you while the medicine drips.

The slow steps, the trembling movements, the frustration of relearning—

these do not define you.

Nevertheless God is restoring you one inch at a time.

He rejoices over every small victory.

He strengthens what is weak.

He lifts what feels heavy.

He whispers hope into days when progress feels invisible.

“Nevertheless God”

I thought of these two words as a cloak—

soft enough to comfort,

strong enough to shield,

woven by the God who saw our battle before it began.

He knew before it ever happened that one day Rene’s voice box would be removed and He prepared a cloak just for me that would settle over my shoulders when fear would raise its terrifying head.

A cloak that warms my spirit when the night feels long.

A cloak that reminds us:

• Trouble is real… nevertheless God.

• Fear is loud… nevertheless God.

• The body is weak… nevertheless God.

• The path is long… nevertheless God.

• You feel alone… nevertheless God Is here.

These two words turn despair into endurance,

weakness into worship,

and uncertainty into unshakeable hope.

When the fight is long and the fears rise, let the cloak of God’s truth cover us with these two words: Nevertheless God.

Let them be our strength and our hope in recovery, our peace when we tremble, and our confidence when we feel small. Wrap us in the cloak of Your presence and carry us through every trial.

          May I breathe these two words in victory throughout my day today….Nevertheless God!