God Met Me In My Brokenness
There was a season in my life when fear became stronger than my faith.
In 2021, I woke up one early morning feeling extremely dizzy and short of breath. My husband rushed me to the hospital. After several tests, the doctors said it was hyperacidity. I was confined for several days, and because of COVID-19 restrictions at the time, no one—not even my child—could visit me.
After I was discharged, the symptoms returned. Again, I was brought to the hospital, this time with my mother. There were more tests, more isolation, and more fear. What followed became a cycle of chest tightness, difficulty breathing, weakness, poor appetite, and sleepless nights. I became afraid of almost everything. Even hearing bad news could trigger a panic attack.
I could barely work or care for my child. Traveling for medical checkups was also difficult because we lived in an area where rough seas and heavy rains could make travel almost impossible.
As the months passed, expenses increased. My husband and I began arguing. I think he was afraid too, but he did not know how to express it. He would tell me, “You have to fight,” but I honestly did not know how.
Then God began reaching me through a friend.
One day, a friend messaged me and sent me a video about God. She introduced me to a daily live program on Hope Channel called Journey with God. Out of curiosity—and perhaps desperation—I started watching.
I had always believed in God. I went to church. I prayed. But during that season, I realized something painful: I knew about God, but I did not truly know Him.
Then I picked up the Bible that had been sitting untouched in our home since our wedding.
Despite our poor internet connection, I continued watching Journey with God. I often found myself crying while listening. I did not understand everything, but somehow God’s Word began reaching places in my heart that nothing else could.
I started praying sincerely—morning, noon, and night.
Slowly, hope began returning.
Then something happened that I will never forget. My friend told me she wanted to send me a book but was unsure which one was still available. When the book arrived, its title was HOPE.
It was the only book left.
Yet it was exactly what I needed.
My friend did not know everything I was going through, but God did. He used her to give me something my heart was silently crying out for. Through that book, I began seeing my life differently. I became aware of my sins, my wrong attitudes, and how far I had drifted from God.
But I did not feel condemned. I felt called back.
My faith was still weak. I still had questions. I still doubted. But for the first time, instead of running away from God, I began running toward Him.
My physical struggles continued. My husband and I traveled for hours by boat and bus to see another doctor. I underwent several tests, including an ultrasound and 2D echo. Thankfully, the results were normal.
Some doctors suggested that I see a psychiatrist. At first, I was not ready to accept that what I was experiencing could also be emotional and mental. I thought admitting that meant I had failed.
During those difficult days, I held on to Philippians 4:13: “I can do all this through him who gives me strength.”
We stayed in the city for almost a month. Many nights, I cried and asked God, “Is this it, Lord? Am I being punished? Is this where it all ends?”
At the same time, problems were growing within our family. Tension developed between my mother and my husband, and eventually my husband gave me an ultimatum. I felt torn between two people I loved deeply.
So, I prayed, “Lord, all I want is peace. I love them both. I don’t want to choose between them.”
God answered in a way I did not expect.
My husband and my mother eventually had a heart-to-heart conversation. They both cried. They began to understand each other’s pain, and the walls between them slowly came down.
God was healing more than my body. He was healing my family.
Then, in December 2021, a devastating typhoon struck our community. We lost power and access to basic supplies. Homes were destroyed, our house—which was still under construction—was damaged, and even our boat was affected.
Yet God kept us safe.
Later, after my grandmother passed away, my symptoms returned. This time, I finally sought psychiatric treatment and was diagnosed with Panic Anxiety Disorder. With treatment and medication, I gradually began sleeping better and functioning normally again.
I learned that seeking help did not mean I had less faith.
In 2023, we moved into our unfinished but livable house. It was not perfect, but it was a new beginning. By God’s grace, He had sustained us through another difficult chapter.
Then our daughter became ill. During a trip to Cebu, she developed a fever, and doctors found blood in her urine. She was diagnosed with acute glomerulonephritis, a kidney disease. I was heartbroken and blamed myself.
But again, God met us in our fear.
Her condition was caught early. We continued her checkups, and by God’s grace, her laboratory results gradually improved. Eventually, her doctor told us that yearly monitoring would be enough.
Through all these years, I have slowly learned that God’s grace does not always mean that every problem disappears immediately. Sometimes, His grace is simply the strength to face one more day.
Second Corinthians 12:9 became deeply personal to me: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
Today, I am still learning. My faith is not perfect. I still struggle. I still have questions. But I am no longer the woman who was completely controlled by fear.
God has changed the way I see life. He has been teaching me patience, surrender, forgiveness, and obedience. He has also been working in my marriage. After years of struggles and arguments, I continue to see God softening both our hearts and drawing us closer to Him.
Looking back, I realize this was never simply a story about sickness.
It was a story about surrender.
God met me in my darkest and weakest moments—not always by removing the problem, but by meeting me in the middle of it. He reached me through friends, through Scripture, through prayer, through family, and even through circumstances I never would have chosen.
He did not abandon me in my brokenness.
He met me there.
And He is still teaching me that His grace is enough.
About the Author
Hazel Jane L. Masumbol is a wife, mother, and Christian who is passionate about sharing how God works through ordinary people and difficult seasons. Her journey through fear, illness, family struggles, and restoration has deepened her desire to know God more personally. She hopes her story will remind others that even in seasons of brokenness, God is present, faithful, and still at work.
