By Dhimas Anugrah

Have you ever felt overwhelmed?

This could’ve been you: all day buried by endless deadlines at work, battling exhausting traffic on the way home, only to find household chores waiting. Then, in the midst of it all, these came to your thoughts uninvited: the bills that have yet to be paid, the rising cost of living, and relationship conflicts that remain unresolved. These may seem like ordinary parts of adult life, yet somehow you find yourself cornered at your lowest point—anxious, discouraged, even lonely. If you have ever felt this way, you are not alone.

The World Health Organization (WHO) reports that one in eight people worldwide live with mental health struggles such as these. Interestingly, this is not limited to adults; rapid pace of modern life has also affected children and teenagers. In Indonesia alone, around 15.5 million adolescents struggle with anxiety, depression, and even severe stress.

These numbers mean so much more than figures on a paper. Behind them may be your fellow church members, coworkers, spouse, friends—or even ourselves—quietly fighting battles within. We can lead a picture perfect life outside while being crushed within.

This reflection brought back my thoughts to a moment on the Christian calendar that we often treat as little more than a midweek holiday: the Ascension of the Lord Jesus.

How could this event—perhaps less celebrated than Christmas or Easter—actually offer both honest answers and deepest hopes for our struggles today?

Lifted Up Not to Leave Behind

The ascension of Jesus took place on the Mount of Olives. Now imagine what’s happened: For the previous forty days, the disciples had experienced a roller-coaster of emotions. They had watched their Teacher suffered, crucified, and died. They mourned deeply. Yet their grief rapidly turned into overwhelming joy when Jesus rose again and returned to them. Perhaps they thought He would now remain with them forever—and restore everything immediately.

Instead, Jesus led them out of the city toward Bethany. Without a lengthy farewell, He lifted up His hands, blessed the disciples, and slowly ascended into heaven until a cloud hid Him from their sight.

I wondered how the disciples might’ve felt. There’s this humane, yet beautiful, tension. On one hand, the Gospel of Luke records that after witnessing Jesus ascend, they worshiped Him and returned to Jerusalem with great joy (Luke 24:52). On the other hand, Acts 1:9–11 tells us that they kept “looking intently up into the sky” until two men dressed in white asked them, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen Him go into heaven.”

The disciples’ gaze was not merely one of amazement; it also implied mixed emotions. There was certainly awe as they witnessed their Teacher truly alive and ascending into heaven as fully God and fully man. But perhaps there was also confusion, fear, and even sadness at the thought of being left behind. When the “two men in white” asked, “Why do you stand here looking into the sky?” it was not meant to be rhetorical. It was a wake-up call, pulling them out of emotional paralysis.

We know how the story continues. Luke recorded the disciples returned with great joy, born not out of forced optimism, but from a new certainty. Their emotional paralysis faded when they realized one crucial truth: Christ was now seated at the right hand of God (Mark 16:19).

Imagine the inner transition—from grieving the loss of a physical presence they could touch, to realizing that their Teacher now reigned from the highest place. Their joy was born from the understanding that Jesus was not abandoning them to face the world alone. Rather, He was taking His place as King over all things. The angels’ message seemed to say, “Do not become consumed by your sense of loss today, because the One who ascended is the very One who will bring all things to completion.”

This is why the Ascension of Christ is so crucial—not only in our understanding of faith, but also in our concrete day-to-day life. Why? Because Jesus ascended to heaven as both God and human. That means there is now a trace of our humanity in heaven itself. Our exhaustion, our anxious breaths, and our tears are not unknown to Him. He ascended to become our Intercessor, One who understands every fragile part of us.

Thus we understand why the disciples returned home rejoicing—even though Jesus was no longer physically beside them. Their strength came not from visible presence, but from the promise of His deeper presence through the Holy Spirit. They realized that in this still-broken world, they weren’t left as emotional orphans. There was a Helper dwelling with them, and there was a King interceding for them from His throne (Romans 8:34; Hebrews 7:25).

An Invitation to be Honest before the King

Christ’s ascension brings us an extraordinary relief: we no longer need to pretend to be strong. If the King enthroned in heaven still chose to bear the scars in His hands, then we too may come to Him carrying our wounds and the little strength we have left. Even Jesus did not wear a “mask” of strength when He prayed in Gethsemane; His prayer revealed a crushing burden He had to bear.

However overwhelmed we are, it’s such a relief to know our honesty doesn’t translate into weak faith. Admitting our fatigue, fear, and trepidation is actually an expression of trust that God is great enough to hold our fragile humanity.

Yet we still live in a fallen world, which means our lives exist within the tension of the “already but not yet”: that the kingdom of God has already been revealed, only not in its fullness. In this tension, even those who have been redeemed can still lie awake at night gripped by fear. We are assured victory over sin, but the burden of Monday mornings and endless traffic still feels painfully real. Still, the ascension of Jesus reminds us that “heavy” is not the final word over our story.

Jesus ascended not to distance himself, but so that the reach of His love might reach even further—into the depths of our anxiety and the maze of confusion we experience today. This is an anchor fastened securely in heaven, assuring us that even when the ship of our lives is battered by storms, we will never drift away without direction.

Thus, it is not destruction, but the complete restoration, that waits at the end of our story. One day, when He returns, every broken part of us will be made whole again. Every troubled thought will finally be given everlasting peace.

Allow me to complete the good news: you don’t have to carry everything alone. You do not have to appear strong all the time. Perhaps all you need is one small step to turn back to the One who knows your name from His throne. We are not walking toward emptiness; we are walking home into His embrace.

We have not been abandoned. He is with us, and with hope we’re waiting for His second coming, when He will restore all things.

Thanks be to God! Happy Ascension Day of our Lord Jesus Christ.


Our Daily Bread Ministries in Indonesia is supported by the freewill offering of individuals in Indonesia, who through their gifts enable us to continue to bring the life-changing wisdom of the Bible to many here. We are not funded by any church or organization.