In an old, crooked chair by the window, I learned that healing often happens in quiet places. My body was broken, my spirit tender — yet God met me there, whispering mercy into every morning. Even the hardest seats can become holy ground when He sits beside us.

He heard my heart at dawn.

“Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.”
— Psalm 30:5

The Chair Was Old and Crooked

It was a secondhand rocker from Facebook Marketplace.
Old. Worn. Uneven.
It didn’t recline — I didn’t think I’d need one.
I didn’t think I’d be recovering from surgery.

But there I was, fresh from the trauma of an emergency C-section.
Sore. Stiff. Stuck.

I couldn’t bend down. I couldn’t go up and down stairs.
I could barely dress myself.
And yet — there I was — with this tiny baby who needed my body for everything.

Mornings in the Window Light

I would sit in that crooked chair for hours.
Not because it was comfortable — but because I had nowhere else to go.

The pain was constant.
My body was a stranger to me.
I couldn’t move without wincing.
I couldn’t stand without help.

So I sat.
By the window.
Wrapped in a robe.
Staring out at the sky and the clouds, wondering:

“Are You in there, Lord?
Are You looking at me from behind the clouds?”

I wasn’t angry.
Just tired.
Just quiet.
Just longing to be seen.

The Lord Met Me There

Not in a big miracle.
Not with booming thunder.
But with something quieter:

His presence.

In the stillness of that crooked chair, He whispered peace.
In the aching of my body, He gave breath.
In the sleeplessness, He gave just enough strength for one more hour.

And somehow — through exhaustion, fragility, and pain — He renewed me every morning.

“His mercies are new every morning.”
— Lamentations 3:23

A Husband Who Cradled Me, Too

My husband became my hands when I had none.
He made the meals.
Dished out my meds.
Helped me in and out of clothes.

When I couldn’t even lotion my legs or feet — he did that, too.

Not once did he complain.
Not once did he make me feel like a burden.
He carried me so I could focus on carrying our daughter.
He cradled me while I cradled her.

And in his love, I saw God’s love more clearly.

The Gift of a New Chair

Eventually, God used the kindness of a wonderful family friend to bless us with a new recliner — soft, beautiful, and far more comfortable than the old one.

It was an unexpected gift, as if the Lord knew how badly I needed a gentle place to rest.

But I don’t resent the old chair.
Because in that crooked chair by the window, God met me.
Not in comfort — but in communion.

That chair became holy ground.
Not because it was comfortable — but because He was there.

“He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.”
— Isaiah 40:29

✨ A Gentle Invitation

Maybe your chair is crooked, too.
Maybe your mornings are full of pain or fog or baby cries or silence.

I just want to tell you this:

You are not alone in that chair.
He sees you.
He sits with you.
And even if no one else knows the depth of your healing — He does.

🌬️ A Holy Exhale

Lord, meet me in the quiet places.

Remind me that I am seen.
That my pain is not hidden from You.

Help me remember that even in the discomfort, You draw near.

You are the God who sits beside me in every crooked chair.
And You call this place holy ground.

Scripture Meditation

Psalm 30:5 — “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.”
Lamentations 3:23 — “His mercies are new every morning.”
Isaiah 40:29 — “He gives strength to the weary…”

The crooked chair by the window.