When I was promoted at work, it was something I had prayed for, hoped for, and believed God for. It felt like a blessing—a clear answer to prayer. But when the transition began, everything shifted.

Instead of feeling confident, I felt overwhelmed.
Instead of feeling capable, I felt lost.
Instead of celebrating the promotion, I began drowning in responsibilities I couldn’t seem to escape.

Every day felt heavier than the last.
Work-life balance disappeared.


I was exhausted—physically, mentally, emotionally.
There were days when coping felt like a full-time job in itself.

In my quiet moments, I even found myself asking God: “Lord, why did You promote me if I would only struggle like this?”

And that question took me straight into the heart of Lamentations.

Just like the Israelites, I felt like I had lost peace, lost joy, and was slowly losing endurance.
I resonated with the words,

“My soul is bereft of peace; I have forgotten what happiness is.” (Lamentations 3:17)

I understood what it meant to feel empty inside—to wake up tired, to go to sleep worried, to carry pressure day after day until hope feels thinner and thinner.

And yet… even in the heaviness, God kept leaving fingerprints.
A task I thought I couldn’t finish—but somehow did.
A decision I was afraid to make—but God guided.
A crisis at work—but peace came at just the right moment.
Wisdom that didn’t come from me.
Strength I knew I didn’t have.

I saw His fingerprints everywhere—
and yet, in my weakness, it felt like it still wasn’t enough to lift the weight I was carrying.

But then Lamentations reminded me:
The hope of the Israelites did not come from circumstances.
Not from their strength.
Not from their abilities.
Not from what they could fix or understand.

Their hope came from one truth:

“The Lord is my portion… therefore I will hope in Him.” (Lamentations 3:24)

So I cling to that same truth.
Even when I feel empty, even when I have no balance, even when my strength is barely enough for the day—God is still my portion. He is what’s left when everything else runs out.
He is the hope that remains when my own hope fades.
He is the strength that carries me when I have none.

Yes, I am struggling—
but I am not abandoned.
Yes, I feel lost—
but I am not without direction.
Yes, the pressure is great—
but God’s mercy is new every morning. So like the Israelites in their darkest hour, Still… I will hope. Not because life is easy,
but because God is faithful.
Not because I am strong,
but because God is enough. 

He is my portion. And the remnants of hope in me, are the traces of His fingerprints. A firm proof that God is in me.