God, Remind Me I Still Need You – Even on My Best Days

There have been seasons in my life when I have held onto God like a lifeline. Not because I was particularly faithful or holy, but because I was utterly desperate. Rock-bottom, no-light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel, breathless kind of desperate. The kind of season where you don’t just want God – you know you won’t survive without Him.

And it’s a feeling I will never forget.

I remember crying in the middle of the night, not even sure if my prayers were coherent – just groaning out to God in the dark. I remember begging Him for strength to get through just one more hour. I remember reading Psalm 34 on repeat, clinging to the promise that “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” (Psalm 34:18)

And He did. He came close. Not always with quick fixes or instant answers, but with presence. With mercy. With enough grace to keep going. I needed Him every second, and I knew it. But here’s what I’m learning now:

It’s easy to remember your need for God when you’re drowning. It’s much harder to remember it when you’re dancing.

Healing Doesn’t Make Us Self-Sufficient

In recent months, my life has started to feel a little more stable, especially in regard to my mental health. Not perfect – far from it – but better. I laugh more. I breathe easier. I’m able to do things that once felt impossible. There’s more light, more space to rest, more reasons to hope. And I thank God for that – I truly do.

But I’ve also noticed something else: on the days when things go well, I sometimes forget how much I still need Him.

I forget to pray with urgency.

I forget to pause and listen.

I forget that grace is still what sustains me – not my own strength, not my own recovery, not my own resilience.

When things are chaotic, it’s easy to cry out, “God, help me.” But when life feels good, how often do I cry out, “God I still need you”?

The truth is, I still need Him just as much on my best day as I did on my worst. I always have, and always will.

“Apart from Me, you can do nothing”

Jesus said these words in John 15:5 and they’ve been echoing in my heart lately:

I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in Me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from Me you can do nothing.

Nothing.

Not “a little.” Not “less than usual.”

Nothing.

This isn’t just about surviving the hard moments. This is about abiding – staying close, staying connected, staying dependent on Him whether the skies are stormy or clear.

When I’m thriving, when I feel emotionally strong, when everything is going “right” – I’m just as dependent on Him as I was in the pit. I may not feel that need as acutely, but it’s there. My need for God isn’t based on how difficult life is. It’s based on who He is – the source of every breath, every blessing, every bit of peace and purpose.

Don’t Let Me Drift

I think one of the subtler dangers in our faith is the slow drift that can happen when life gets easier. We stop pressing in quite as much, we let our guard down spiritually, we become a little too comfortable.

Not because we’re being rebellious – just because we’re tired. Or distracted. Or because life has finally given us a little bit of space to breathe, and we want to enjoy it. And we should. Rest is good. Joy is good. Healing is good!

But let’s not forget who gave them to us in the first place.

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights.” (James 1:17)

If the good days are a gift, then the giver is still worthy of our full attention.

Remembering the Wilderness

Sometimes, I go back and reread old journal entries or prayer notes from the hardest chapters of my life. Not to reopen wounds, but to remember what God carried me through. I never want to romanticise the suffering – it was awful – but I also don’t want to forget the intimacy I experienced with God in the middle of it.

I want to carry that same dependence into the calm.

I want to love Him not just because I need Him to rescue me, but because I know I need Him to guide me, shape me, anchor me, and hold me – no matter what season I’m in.

If you’re in a hard season right now, I see you. Keep clinging to Him. He is near, and He is faithful.

But if you’re in a season of healing or peace – don’t forget your need for Him. You haven’t “graduated” from grace. You’re not supposed to. You don’t have to earn the good days or prove you’re strong enough without Him. Because the point was never to be strong without Him. The point has always been to walk with Him.

On your worst day, He was enough.

On your best day, He still is.

All my love,

Anna x

When God Doesn’t Answer “Why?”

We’ve all been there. Collecting exam results, alone with a diagnosis we don’t want (either for ourselves or a loved one), sat in a waiting room for test results, living with a grief so sharp it leaves us breathless. Or, maybe we’re just walking through another day that feels heavier than we can carry, events around the world breaking our hearts. And the word “Why?” rises from somewhere deep within us.

Why did this happen? Why didn’t God stop it? Why me? Why am I not better? “Why?” is the question that haunts suffering and is so often one that we aim at heaven.

We ask God, “Why?” – but so often, we’re met with silence. Or answers that make no sense or don’t satisfy us. We want clarity. Resolution. A divine reason wrapped in a bow that makes everything okay. But more often than not, God doesn’t give us the answer we want.

Instead, He gives us something else: He gives us Himself.

“And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” – Matthew 28:20

God may not explain every pain. But He promises to be present in it. And that is no small thing. The Creator of the universe doesn’t sit far away, looking down on our struggles and ignores them. He steps into them. He wraps Himself in our humanity. He walks through the fire with us. He suffers with us.

That’s why we call Him Emmanuel.

God with us.

Not God above us, or God far from us, or God explaining everything to us – but God with us.

And nowhere is that more clear than in Jesus.

On the cross, Jesus cried out words that many of us have whispered through tears:

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” – Matthew 27:46

Even Jesus – God in flesh – asked “why?”

That moment wasn’t weakness. It wasn’t failure. It was Jesus fully entering into the human experience. He didn’t skip the agony. He didn’t bypass the questions. He became like us, even in our confusion and anguish.

Which means your questions don’t scare God. Your “why?” doesn’t make you less faithful. It makes you human. And Jesus meets you there.

So often we think faith is about having all the answers. But maybe faith is about trusting that even when there are no answers, we’re not alone.

Because “why” may not always be answered in this life. But “with”?

That’s God’s eternal promise.

With you in the dark.

With you in the waiting.

With you in the ache that won’t let up.

With you to the very end of the age.

Maybe the better question isn’t “Why, God?” but “Where are you, God?” And the answer is always the same: Right here. Right beside you, still holding you, still faithful.

We don’t have a God who only gives explanations.

We have a God who gives presence.

We get Emmanuel.

And sometimes, that’s the answer we need most.

All my love,

Anna x