The past week or so, I let life happen around me.

I took myself out of the equation and let everyday moments pass me by while I existed in some sort of haze. I reminded myself of the following truths:

My children are joyful.
My husband is wonderful and kind.
I have lovely friends.
I’m in a safe and stable home.
I have enough.

And yet, there was some part of me that felt not wholly there. This void stirred from deep inside me that I mused as if Dies Irae played in the background and I tried to listen to its call like Elsa in Frozen.

What did it want? What was the ringing that beckoned me?

No amount of Disney movies, cheery Christmas songs, or even my kids’ jokes lifted my burdened spirit. I wasn’t letting something rest—that is until I could identify my inner conflict.

So often, we don’t talk about triggers. We expect them to look like marching bands in the middle of a Macy’s Day Parade, announcing itself with larger-than-life colorful balloons and floats. But triggers don’t work like that. It presents itself more like a dashboard light—“hey, I’m not running correctly.”

***

Reading through Stephen’s murder in Acts 7, all I could think about was how deeply traumatic this event was to the believers witnessing this event. This incredible bastion of faith was murdered in front of their eyes. Their reaction? They scattered—they ran away from persecution that threatened their lives.

Scripture mentions the believers’ great lamentation. I can’t begin to fathom their sorrows or waves of grief. And while I read those verses, I couldn’t help but be overcome by emotion. “Lord, I know this isn’t the end of the story, but why did they have to go through this?”

Throughout Acts, we see the works of the Holy Spirit, the one we are so privileged to call Comforter.

And in that story of the early Church, in the midst of trial, tribulation, and trauma, we see the Comforter’s works. We see His beauty. We see His close communion with those who have endured so much.

***

My counselor gave me one thing to work on this week—to simply ask someone else if they, too, struggled this week before Thanksgiving. I squirmed. How could I ask someone this deeply inquiring and almost-prodding question?

But I waited.

An opportunity presented itself. In the middle of catching up with my friend at church, I asked. “Are the holidays a little triggering for you?” She confirmed, without hesitation—a resounding yes. I felt a little less alone—a little more comfort.

We promised to text each other just to check-in throughout this week. In that promise, I noticed the fog lift and could see that Holy Spirit doesn’t work out loud. He works in the middle of community. He works in the quiet inquiries in the middle of hazes.

God sometimes whispers. And His whispers? They can be a perfect comfort. How astoundingly beautiful it is to see the Lord work in the quiet amid whispers. For those trapped in hazes today or for the next season, may His whispers comfort and His call give you resounding joy.