The rain outside matched the storm swirling inside your heart. You sat on the couch, knees hugged to your chest, staring at the Bible on the coffee table. It had been a gift from your grandmother years ago, but lately, it felt like just another reminder of how far you'd drifted from hope.
For weeks now, you'd been trapped in a cycle of sadness, unable to shake the weight pressing down on you. Life felt gray and heavy, like no amount of light could pierce the shadows that clouded your mind. You hadn't told anyone—not your friends, not your family. But Nicholas had noticed.
He showed up unannounced that evening, his knock startling you out of your thoughts. When you opened the door, his kind eyes immediately softened as they took you in—red-rimmed eyes, messy hair, and the kind of exhaustion that went deeper than just sleep.
"Hey," he said softly, stepping inside. "I just... I had this feeling you needed someone."
You didn't respond, your throat tightening. But Nicholas wasn't someone who needed words to understand. He sat down beside you, gently wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
"Talk to me," he urged. "Whatever it is, I'm here."
The tears came before the words did, spilling down your cheeks as you finally let out everything you'd been holding in—the loneliness, the hopelessness, the feeling that you were drowning and couldn't find the surface.
Nicholas listened intently, his hand never leaving your shoulder, his presence warm and steady like an anchor. When you finished, he spoke, his voice calm and filled with conviction.
"I know it feels impossible right now," he said, "but you're not alone in this. You've got me, and more importantly, you've got God. Have you prayed about it?"
You shook your head, your voice barely a whisper. "I don't even know where to start."
"That's okay," he said gently. "We'll start together."
Nicholas reached for the Bible on the coffee table, flipping through its pages until he found Psalm 34:18. He handed it to you, his fingers brushing yours as he said, "Read this out loud."
You hesitated but then read shakily, "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."
Nicholas smiled softly. "See? He's already here with you. Let's pray together."
The two of you bowed your heads, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you poured your heart out to God. Nicholas prayed too, his words weaving light into the darkness you'd been carrying. He asked for healing, for strength, and for hope to fill the spaces where pain had taken root.
In the days and weeks that followed, Nicholas stayed by your side. He checked in daily, sent you verses to meditate on, and prayed with you whenever you needed. Slowly, the weight began to lift. It wasn't overnight, but there were moments—brief and fleeting at first—where you felt peace.
One evening, as the two of you sat on the porch watching the sunset, you turned to Nicholas, tears in your eyes again—but this time, they were tears of gratitude.
"I don't know where I'd be without you," you said.
He smiled, taking your hand in his. "You're stronger than you think. And you've always had Him with you. I just reminded you to lean on Him."
For the first time in a long time, you felt hope. You weren't alone, and you never had been. Nicholas had been the light that led you back to the source of all light, and for that, you'd always be thankful.
