Finding Hope in the Midst of Struggles

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Jul 15
4 min read

Updated: Aug 21

When Home Doesn’t Feel Safe Anymore

My mom has battled addiction for years. Even though the drugs are gone, alcohol—her first stronghold—has returned. Just like that, the weight came back. On top of that, she’s invited my grandmother to live with us—who also has her own addiction. The environment is toxic. It's heavy. The atmosphere feels thick with sadness, resentment, and disappointment.

It’s hard to come home to that. So I run. Not away from responsibility—but just to breathe. Just to get a moment of peace.

My dad has enabled this behavior for years. Now, he enables my grandmother too—driving her to get the very thing that’s destroying her. It makes you question everything. Honestly, it makes it hard not to grow bitter. I’ve tried talking to them. I’ve cried. I’ve prayed. But change doesn’t come until someone wants it—and they don’t seem ready.

And while I’m dealing with all of this, I’m also facing my own battles.

The Addictions We Don’t Talk About

Addiction doesn’t always look like a needle or a crack pipe. Sometimes, it looks like a website you keep going back to in the dark. Sometimes, it looks like a thought pattern or a destructive comfort that no one else sees.

For me, it’s been porn. That’s my struggle. That’s my addiction. If I’m honest, sometimes I go to porn the same way others go to drugs or alcohol: as a safe space. As a way to escape my circumstances. As a numbing agent. As a false refuge when the pain gets too loud.

I turn to it when the house is filled with tension. When I feel unseen. When I’m tired of trying to fix what I didn’t break.

But I know it doesn’t heal anything. It just feeds the fire of brokenness. The truth is—what I’m running to can’t save me. Only Jesus can.

"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble." – Psalm 46:1

Treating Family Like the Mission Field

My friend Kia gave me some advice the other day that stuck with me: "Treat them like any addict you’d meet on the block."

And she’s right. If this were any other neighborhood outreach, I wouldn’t carry so much resentment. I wouldn’t expect perfection. I would show compassion and point them to the cross.

But this is different.

These are the people who raised me. These are the people I grew up hoping would change. It’s hard to witness to people you’re still grieving. It’s hard to show grace to people you expect more from.

But maybe that’s where real love begins. When we stop holding people hostage to who we want them to be, and instead start interceding for who God still knows they can become.

"Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins." – 1 Peter 4:8

Hope Isn’t a Feeling—It’s a Fight

I want to be clear: I haven’t arrived. I’m still learning how to forgive, how to breathe, and how to pray through pain that sits in the same living room every day.

Hope isn’t easy here. It’s not pretty or poetic.

Hope looks like staying when I want to flee. Hope looks like leaving the room to cry, then walking back in with peace. Hope looks like refusing to numb out when temptation calls. Hope looks like surrendering the future to God even when today feels unbearable.

"Let us not grow weary in doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up." – Galatians 6:9

I’ve cried out to God, "Please get me out of here." But in the same breath, I’ve learned to pray:

"But until You do, give me strength."

Strength to worship in a war zone. Strength to keep serving, even while I'm still healing. Strength to love without losing myself.

You’re Not Alone in This

If you’re reading this and you’re in a hard place too—I see you. God sees you. You’re not crazy. You’re not weak. You’re just weary.

Maybe your story looks different. Maybe it’s not drugs, but dysfunction. Maybe it’s not alcohol, but abandonment. Perhaps you’re the one battling the secret addiction and still showing up at church every Sunday, wondering if anyone would love you if they knew.

Can I remind you of something?

God is still with you. Even in the middle of it. Even in the addiction. Even in the relapse. Even in the tears you don’t tell anyone about.

He has not walked away. And if you’ll reach for Him—even in your mess—He will pull you closer than you’ve ever known.

"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." – Psalm 34:18

A Prayer for the Ones Still Waiting

So here’s my prayer, not just for me—but for anyone trying to hold on to hope in a house that hurts:

"God, I’m tired. I’m disappointed. I’m grieving what I thought this family would be. But I’m still here. And because You’re still here, I’ll keep believing. Even when it hurts. Even when it’s hard. Change them, Lord. But change me too. Strengthen me while I wait. And remind me that hope was never supposed to be easy—it was supposed to be anchored in You."

And if you don’t know what to say today… start there.

Say, "God, get me out of here… but until then, give me strength."

He hears you. And He’s not done yet.

📞 Need Help Now?

If you or someone you know is battling addiction, call the SAMHSA National Helpline at 1-800-662-HELP (4357). It’s free, confidential, and available 24/7 for individuals and families facing mental and substance use disorders.

🕊️ You Are Invited

Join us under the tent for Hope on the Block, tentatively starting July 18, 2025. We’re showing up in the streets to bring hope to the hopeless, healing to the broken, and truth to every block. Your story matters. Your soul matters. And you’re not alone.

✨ Final Call to Action

If this blog resonated with you, don’t keep it to yourself:

Share it with a friend who needs encouragement
Post it online to spark honest conversation
Reach out for prayer or connection—we’re here for you

Need prayer? Reach out to us at Way of Truth Evangelistic Ministries. You’re not alone.📧 Info@waytruthem.org | @wayoftruthem | 🌐 www.waytruthem.org