Some of the people who have most shaped our faith never set out to do so—they simply live it faithfully. Jada is one such person for me, a dear friend and trusted spiritual voice in my life. In this guest post, she shares how Jesus drew near to her through peace, provision, and the presence of His people in the deepest season of grief.
By Jada Morgan
Last year, just weeks after my husband Aaron died, my New Year’s prayer was that I would become even closer to Jesus. In that prayer, I couldn’t imagine the ways Jesus would come nearer to me. I had just faced the fear that I had dreaded for over two years. My world had been turned upside down, but with my faith in Jesus as a firm foundation, I was still standing. I have found firsthand that Matthew 7:25 is true. When telling the parable of a wise man who built his house on the rock, as opposed to the man who built his house on the sand, Jesus said, “The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against the house, yet it did not fall because it had its foundation on the rock.” I am grateful He has been true to His word to draw near to me as I have drawn near to Him. He has been my friend for all my life, and this past year I found Him to be faithful and true in my darkest times.
When my thirty-eight year old husband suddenly died, I was thrust into being a single mother of 4 young children, a widow, a spouseless pastor, and in the deepest valley of grief I have ever experienced.
This nightmare started simply enough. Symptoms suddenly came on him after starting a new job, only to worsen. I became his caretaker for the next two years. This involved finding doctors, specialists, talking to insurance, taking him to all his appointments, digging deeper to advocate for his health, waking in the night to make sure he was breathing, and making all of the special food we hoped would help his body heal itself.
Fast forward to me standing in the emergency room bathroom for privacy, I cried out to God. “Raise him from the dead! I know You can! But if that isn’t Your will, give me the peace that passes understanding that I’ve heard of all my life. I can’t keep living in limbo. I am SO tired.” As I dried my tears and stepped into the hallway, His peace came like a flood, and it was there I knew that I wasn’t seeing Aaron alive again this side of heaven. As I touched him tenderly one last time on his lower side as I had often done, and kissed him goodbye, I longed for the heaven that filled his sight.
I looked to my right at my lead pastor. He is my friend, my boss, and the man who helped give Aaron CPR and had driven the ambulance to the hospital. I asked, “What now?” Eyes red, he cleared his throat and said, “We will take care of you. That’s what. You still have a home and a job and a church family. We will be with you.”
In that moment, the nearness of Jesus was through His Church. His peace and His presence carried me in something like a cloud through 2025. People donating their time to help me with my children while I worked, people gifting me monetary support as the Lord led them, people sending a package or a text message along with prayers and words of encouragement—all of these were ways I sensed the Lord’s nearness. My prayer in January of 2025 was that I would become closer in relationship to Jesus out of necessity for my only True Lifeline. The way He answered that prayer came through His peace, His provision, and His presence. I was pleasantly surprised to find that not only did He draw near to me, but He used His people to minister to me in tangible ways. They moved through their own brokenness to reach out to me. Some moved awkwardly to meet me at my point of need out of their love for me, confessing they had not ever known the level of grief I was dealing with. They confessed they weren’t sure if they were doing it right or not, but that they loved me and God gave them practical things to do. So they obeyed. In the last year, I have learned to come messily, come clumsily, come lovingly. Just come. Come to those with broken hearts and messed-up plans. Come to those who need to know that they are worth the discomfort that comes from moving out of our depth. The words of Jesus in John 13:35 echo in my heart even now: “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” I have learned that love looks like a warm meal being delivered in subzero temperatures. It looks like mopping a kitchen floor when that is all that would make a new widow comfortable before people come calling. Love is dropping a rolled-up thousand dollars into a purse and refusing any type of thanks. It is a sacrificial twenty dollars stuffed into someone’s hand and saying, “I wish I had more.”
I was begging Jesus for His nearness because I knew He was the only one who could comfort me to the depth of my soul. But when He answered, He showed me how to love those who are also crying out from brokenness.
The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18
About The Author
Jada Morgan is the Worship and Outreach pastor at Baker Assembly of God in eastern Montana, where she lives with her 4 boys. She is also a writer and speaker. She holds a Bachelor’s degree in Practical Theology from Southeastern University (Lakeland, FL) and a Master’s of Divinity from the Assemblies of God Theological Seminary.