Without Valleys, There aren't Mountains

For many years now, I’ve relied on a transdermal scopolamine patch to help control my saliva production. It’s a small, round sticker that I typically wear on my neck, just behind my ear. Every three days, I change it for a new one. This routine has become part of my life, and while it may seem simple, it’s one of the little things that makes my daily life more manageable.

I’ve realized that this tiny patch represents more than medicine — it’s a reminder of how God can use small things to meet big needs. Sometimes we overlook His daily mercies because they come in ordinary forms. But when one of those little helps is missing, we suddenly see just how much we rely on His provision in every detail.

Lately, though, things have not gone so smoothly. The current brand my pharmacy has been giving me does not remain adhesive for the full three days. Sometimes it lasts 24 hours, sometimes 48, but rarely the full 72. Because of this, I’ve had to reapply patches sooner than I should. Normally, I receive 30 patches at a time—a 90-day supply—but since they fall off too soon, I ran out before my insurance would cover a refill. That left me with seven long days without a patch.

Trying to find a solution, I’ve had several frustrating phone call encounters with my doctor’s office as I’ve tried to remedy the situation. My personal physician is on maternity leave, and the covering doctor in the office preferred not to prescribe anything since she does not know me. When the nurse called back, I was told no one in the office would see me, and that I would need to wait for my regular doctor. But the earliest appointment I already had scheduled with her wasn’t until December—and it’s only a telehealth appointment, not in person.

So currently, I’m in that week-long waiting period with nothing to help me, and my saliva is overwhelming to say the least. I’ve already shed tears, and I expect there might be more along the way. I’m not sure what I can do to expedite or change these circumstances, and the helplessness feels heavy.

When Help Doesn’t Come

Needless to say, it’s been a real fiasco — no patches, no guidance, and absolutely no help or suggestions from my medical office. I’m beyond disappointed with that level of service. If you can’t care about your patients, I truly feel you’re in the wrong field.

It’s hard when you’re treated like a number instead of a person. I hung up the phone that day and just sat in silence for a while, wondering why compassion seems so scarce in a field meant for healing. But then, I remembered — even when people turn us away, God never does. His line is always open, His ear always listening.

So, I did the best I could. I started looking for an over-the-counter option and found a generic motion sickness pill that I could crush, thinking it might help. It wasn’t time-released, so I figured it would be safe. What I didn’t realize was that there are different kinds of motion sickness medications. The kind I picked said to take two pills for 24 hours, so that’s what I did.

But soon, I started feeling strange — drowsy, jelly-like, and just plain awful — with no improvement in my saliva at all. After half a day of feeling miserable, I reached out to a family member with medical experience and sent her a photo of the box. Thank goodness I did! It turned out the medication I had bought was similar to Benadryl — which explained everything I was feeling.

She sent me a photo of the correct version, the “Fast Act” type, which directs up to eight tablets for 24 hours. The boxes looked almost identical, right down to the color and design — only the tiny print underneath the “Motion Sickness” label was different. It’s a good reminder to double-check those details that are so easy to overlook when you’re just trying to find relief.

For now, that’s what I’ve been using until my insurance approves my prescription again. Hopefully, it won’t be much longer. In the meantime, I’m just thankful for the bit of wisdom and help that came through family — when professional help didn’t.

James 1:17 “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights...”

Even though my doctor didn’t help, God still provided the help I needed — through a family member who knew what to look for. He always finds a way to care for us, even when it’s not through the channels we expected.

When life brings these moments of frustration, of waiting, and of helplessness, it can be hard not to feel forgotten. My tears over something as small as a patch remind me that nothing is too small to bring before God. He sees even this struggle. The Bible says:

Psalm 56:8 “Thou tellest my wanderings: put thou my tears into thy bottle: are they not in thy book?”

Isn’t it amazing that God keeps track of every tear we cry? They are not wasted. They are not overlooked. To Him, they matter.

Right now, I don’t know what will happen with my prescription or how soon things will change. But I do know this: God is still faithful in the waiting. He is still present when the answers are delayed. He is still strong when my body feels weak.

Psalm 55:22 “Cast thy burden upon the LORD, and he shall sustain thee: he shall never suffer the righteous to be moved.”

I’ve tried to distract myself from the discomfort by telling myself I’m fine and keeping my mind occupied. Easier said than done.

These waiting days remind me of how much I depend on Him—more than any patch, more than any pill, more than any earthly fix. Medicine may fail, systems may be slow, and people may not always understand the urgency of what we face, but the Lord remains constant.

I think of Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 12:9: “And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.”

This doesn’t mean the weakness disappears—it means God’s strength shows up right in the middle of it. If He can sustain me through seven days without my medicine, He can sustain you through whatever “waiting period” you may be walking through, too.

So today, I cast my burden on Him once more, knowing He will sustain me. My prayer is that even in my weakness, someone else will see His strength.

Waiting seasons can refine us in ways comfort never could. They teach patience, deepen prayer, and remind us that peace doesn’t come from perfect circumstances but from perfect trust. Every delay becomes an invitation to lean harder on the One who never fails.

What are you waiting on God for today? Whatever it is, may you be reminded that He sees your tears, knows your struggles, and is faithful to carry you through.

 Be encouraged. 🧡

When Waiting feels like Wasted Time

A little bonus for you: an audio reflection at the end to celebrate one year of this blog — I hope you’ll listen!

I would like to share with you today about a very common season that many of us endure—one I am currently walking through myself. It is not an easy season, and honestly, it has been a bit frustrating because it feels self-inflicted. Not long ago, I stumbled, and that little misstep has affected my left hip and leg area in a big way.

At my initial appointment, the doctor reassured me that the bones looked great. That was good news. But as many of you know, a healthy bone structure is only part of the story. Around the hip joint, where the femur fits into the pelvis, there is cartilage. And cartilage, unlike bone, does not show up on a simple X-ray. The way I described my pain and the limitations in my leg movement led the doctor to suspect that the cartilage could be the real issue. So, he referred me to a specialist.

Here’s the part that challenges me: I have to wait about three weeks before I can even see this specialist and find out what’s really going on. Three weeks may not sound like a long time, but when you’re in pain, when your routines are interrupted, and when you have questions without answers—it feels like forever.

In the meantime, I have to lay off leg workouts completely. No cardio workouts either. My natural tendency is to push through, to keep pressing forward. But right now, I can’t. I must hold back so that I do not further aggravate the situation. And that is where the frustration sets in.

When Life Feels Stuck

What do we do in the waiting, when we cannot move forward like we want?

It sort of makes you feel stuck. I have goals I want to meet and things I want to accomplish. I like to see progress in my physical strength and health. But in this moment, I am unable to pursue them the way I want. That makes it feel, in a way, like wasted time.

I find myself wishing I could get in to see the specialist sooner, but that door isn’t open yet. And it made me stop and think: how many times in life do we face situations that force us to wait? Waiting for answers, waiting for healing, waiting for jobs, waiting for direction and guidance. Waiting for prayers to be answered.

The truth is, we all face things that require waiting. And if we’re being honest, most of us don’t like it.

Tick, tock

Biblical Examples of Waiting

As I wrestle with this season, I find comfort and strength in looking at the lives of those in Scripture who also had to wait.

• Abraham waited many long years for God’s promise of a son to come to pass. The waiting tested his faith, but ultimately, God proved faithful.

Genesis 21:1–2 “And the LORD visited Sarah as he had said, and the LORD did unto Sarah as he had spoken. For Sarah conceived, and bare Abraham a son in his old age, at the set time of which God had spoken to him.”

• David was anointed king while still a young shepherd boy, yet he spent years running for his life from Saul before he ever wore the crown. His waiting wasn’t wasted—it prepared him to be a godly king.
• Israel waited for deliverance from Egypt, and even once freed, they spent forty years in the wilderness learning dependence on God.

These accounts remind me that waiting is not a punishment; it is often a part of God’s process.

What Waiting Produces

When I step back and view waiting through the lens of faith, I begin to see it differently.

• Waiting strengthens our dependence on God. When our own efforts cannot move us forward, we are reminded that only His hand can guide the timing and outcome.
• Waiting teaches patience and humility. It brings us to a place where we must admit we are not in control.
• Waiting deepens trust. Each day that passes without the answer we want is another opportunity to choose to believe that God’s timing is best.

Isaiah 40:31 says:

“But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.”

Notice that strength is not promised to those who rush ahead, but to those who wait upon the Lord.

Waiting as Training, Not Wasted Time

Something the Lord has been showing me is that waiting seasons are not wasted seasons. They are actually training grounds.

Think about an athlete who is told to rest. At first, it feels like everything is being taken away. But in reality, the body is repairing itself, and the rest is building a stronger foundation for the future. The same principle applies spiritually.

When I cannot use the elliptical or rowing machine, I can walk deeper with God in prayer. When I cannot build muscle in my legs, I can strengthen the muscle of my faith. The waiting becomes a different kind of workout—not of the body, but of the heart.

And if I’m being honest, that’s not the kind of workout I would have chosen for myself. But God, as the perfect Trainer, knows what area of my life needs attention, and He is wise enough to slow me down when I would have only pushed harder.

A Personal Struggle

I will admit to you that lately I’ve had a real personal struggle with my lack of physical abilities. It is hard not to think about the things I used to be able to do but cannot do right now. Those memories have weighed heavily on my mind.

But I remind myself: just because my body feels limited does not mean God is limited. When I cannot move physically the way I want, He is still working spiritually. He is shaping me, reminding me that my value is not measured by how many miles I can walk, how much weight I can lift, or how far I can push myself in cardio. My value is found in Him alone.

Encouragement for You

Perhaps you, too, are in a season of waiting. It may not be a hip injury like mine. Maybe it’s waiting for a door to open in your career. Maybe you’re waiting for healing in your family, or for clarity about a big decision. Maybe you’re waiting for God to restore something broken in your life.

Whatever it is, I want you to know this: God does not waste seasons of waiting.

He uses them to stabilize us, to anchor our hearts in Him. He uses them to prepare us for what is next. And though we may not understand the “why” right now, we can be confident that His timing is perfect.

Psalm 27:14 gives us this encouragement:

“Wait on the LORD: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the LORD.”

Friend, do you notice how the psalmist repeats himself? “Wait, I say, on the LORD.” God knew we would struggle here. He knew we would need the reminder not just once but twice in the very same verse. Waiting is not easy, but it is powerful when it is done with faith.

Closing Thoughts

So while I wait these three weeks to see the specialist, I am choosing to wait on the Lord as well. I may not be doing leg workouts or cardio right now, but I can strengthen my heart in Scripture, in prayer, and in trust.

What are you waiting on today? Is there an area of your life where you feel “stuck”? I encourage you to place it in God’s hands, to lean into Him during the waiting. Because while we may feel like nothing is happening, He is always at work.

And when His timing comes, the answer will be worth every moment of the wait.

 Be encouraged. 🧡                                                         

As I mentioned at the top, this month marks the one-year anniversary of this blog. I’ve recorded a short audio reflection to share my thanks and some encouragement with you — I hope you’ll take a moment to listen.

 

From Breakdown to Bronco

The Gift of Driving Again

It still catches me by surprise sometimes—I’m driving again. After years without my license, it's hard to believe that I’ve had it back for around two years now. Each time I take the wheel, I feel that deep sense of appreciation. Driving is more than transportation for me—it’s independence, opportunity, and a fresh breath of life.

I’ve been blessed to drive a 2010 Subaru Forester. It wasn’t brand-new, but it was mine, and I was grateful. I took care of it the best I could, handling some of the expected upkeep and even a few unexpected issues over the past couple of summers. It got me where I needed to go, and for a while, that was enough.

But over time, things started to shift.

When Problems Keep Piling Up

This past season, I noticed a few concerning things. Three warning lights appeared on my dash, and the acceleration started acting strange—revving and struggling in ways I didn’t provoke. Then came the big one: I turned the ignition off, and the car wouldn’t turn back on. Between that and a few unsettling noises, I began to feel uneasy.

I had already been spending money on repairs, maintenance, and some unrelated expenses. But I couldn’t shake the feeling—what if something else failed soon? Was I going to end up stranded somewhere? I started wondering if it was time to stop pouring money into an aging vehicle and consider something newer, safer, and more reliable.

The Weight of a Big Decision

The idea of buying a different vehicle came with its own set of anxieties. I haven’t had a car payment in many years, and my income is based on disability and part-time work. Taking on a monthly bill felt heavy. But I also had to weigh that against the peace of mind that could come from a more dependable vehicle. After praying about it, I began to consider upgrading.

It was not a decision I took lightly. I know what it’s like to go without. I know what it’s like to make do. But I also know what it’s like to trust God with the unknown—and this was one of those moments.

Setting Criteria and Starting the Search

I set some boundaries to help guide my search:

• A model year between 2015 and 2020
• Less than 100,000 miles
• Within a price range I could responsibly manage
• Large enough to handle my walker and mobility needs—so likely an SUV

I started browsing online listings at local dealerships. Hours passed as I sifted through options, making mental notes and weighing pros and cons. I was cautiously optimistic but determined to find the right fit.

The One That Got Away

Then a certain vehicle caught my eye. It looked like a perfect match—it checked all my boxes. I called the dealership, hopeful and maybe a little excited. The salesman answered and informed me, “Ma’am, that vehicle sold 30 minutes ago.”

I was disappointed. I’m sure he could hear it in my voice. After all those hours of searching and starting to get hopeful, it felt like the rug had been pulled out.

But God Was Already Ahead of Me

Before I started this journey, I had prayed—specifically. I asked the Lord to guide my steps, to shut doors that needed shutting, and to provide the right vehicle for me, not just any vehicle. Others had been praying with me, too. I didn’t want to settle for something outside of God's best just because I was anxious to make a move.

The salesman continued, “We do have more vehicles on the lot.” He mentioned one that met all the criteria I had prayed about. I agreed to come by the next afternoon and take a look.

And truly—you will not convince me that God didn’t orchestrate the whole affair. I called about a vehicle that was already gone, and ended up having a conversation about one I never even looked at once I was at the dealership. But once I arrived, it was clear: God had given me the right place, the right salesman, and the right vehicle.

And I couldn’t help but think back to something that had happened just a few weeks earlier. My Subaru had been in the shop for repairs, and I hadn’t driven it beforehand because I didn’t feel it was safe. So I borrowed my mom’s large SUV to run a couple of errands. Afterward, she asked me how I felt about driving it, and I told her—it felt good. It didn’t make me anxious at all.

That moment stuck with me. Looking back now, I believe the Lord allowed me to drive her vehicle again as a gentle reminder: I could handle something different. I could adapt. Two years ago, when I first got my license back, I had driven her SUV a few times before getting the Subaru and it intimidated me then. Maybe I needed to be reminded that a bigger vehicle was not only manageable—but even comfortable.

Arriving at the Dealership

When I pulled into the dealership, I had more than just specs and numbers on my mind. I was thinking about past conversations, the opinions and wisdom of others, and most of all, how I was feeling in that very moment. I didn’t want to rush into anything out of desperation. I also didn’t want to back myself into a corner financially—buying something that didn’t feel quite right, when maybe something slightly newer and more enjoyable might have been possible with a similar payment.

I shared all this with the salesman, trying to be as honest and clear as I could. I even opened up a little more and told him that this whole process was new for me. I had never made such a purchase on my own before—not without my husband. I felt the weight of that as I navigated this major decision. It was a new chapter, and it came with uncertainty, and even some grief.

He listened kindly, then said, “Let me go speak to someone. I have an idea.”

A few minutes later, he came back and said, “What if I told you I could have you in a brand-new Ford Bronco Sport, and keep you within the same financial range you’ve been talking about?”

I was surprised.

I hadn’t even considered a new vehicle—not at all. But something in me paused, and I realized: the Lord knows exactly what we need.

The Test Drive and a Clear Path Forward

So, we continued talking—and then test driving. I was paying attention to everything: how it handled, how I felt in the seat, how easily I could see around me and get in and out with my walker. And honestly? It felt right.

To my amazement, all of the financial pieces came together smoothly. There were no snags, no hard haggles, no confusing roadblocks. Everything just… worked out.

And for that, I will be forever grateful.

Driving Off the Lot

I’ll admit—I was a bit nervous when I finally sat in the driver’s seat and buckled my seatbelt to drive off the lot. This was really happening. I took a deep breath, adjusted all of my mirrors, and eased out onto the road, thankful and happy with the outcome.

By the time I pulled into the driveway, I was still smiling. My mom knew I had originally gone to look at a 2019 white Toyota Highlander, and when I stepped out of my new green Ford Bronco Sport, she looked at me, smirked, and teased, “Well… that’s no white Toyota.”

Looking Back—and Forward

Since that day, I’ve felt nothing but peace about the decision. Yes, it was a big step. Yes, it involved finances, trust, and letting go of old routines. But what I gained is more than a new vehicle—it’s a reminder that God truly does go before us.

He hears our prayers.
He sees the parts we can’t see.
And He provides what we need, when we need it.

I’m still adjusting to this new season—this new independence, this new car, and the ongoing journey of doing life differently than I once did. But I’m not alone. I never have been.

A Word of Encouragement

If you’re facing a big decision and feeling unsure, I want to encourage you—don’t rush. Don’t settle. Pray. Wait. Watch. The same God who guided me to the right vehicle in His timing can guide you in whatever you’re facing.

“And thine ears shall hear a word behind thee, saying, This is the way, walk ye in it...” Isaiah 30:21

He is faithful. He is personal. And He cares about even the practical parts of our lives—yes, even car shopping.

God’s Hand Was in it All

When I think back on the whole journey—driving again after so long, dealing with the old Subaru, praying through every option—I just have to stop and thank God. He really was with me through every single part of it.

Even the things that felt frustrating at the time—like unexpected repairs or a vehicle that just wouldn’t cooperate—turned out to be part of the path He was clearing. His provision didn’t always come all at once, but it always came on time.

“But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:19

I saw it in little ways and big ones. Like when He gave me peace to wait instead of rushing. Like when He helped me ask the right questions, or put the right person in my path. He didn’t just meet my need—He went beyond it. He took care of things I hadn’t even thought to pray about.

Stand Still and Be Amazed

You know, sometimes we forget just how awesome God really is. Not just kind. Not just capable. He’s full of glory. The kind that makes you stop in your tracks and say, “Wow… that was You, Lord.”

“O LORD our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth! who hast set thy glory above the heavens.” Psalm 8:1

I didn’t just end up with a car. I ended up with a story—a reminder that God sees, God cares, and God still moves mountains in our lives. And I want to encourage you: if you’re in a season of waiting, or things just don’t make sense right now, hold on. Keep praying. He’s working in the background.

God’s timing is perfect. His provision is sure. And His love is so much bigger than we understand. I’m still in awe of Him. And I hope you are too.

 Be encouraged. 🧡

Sleep, Spit, Repeat: my nightly routine, 16 years later

"What do you do at night? Do you still have to manage your saliva?"

That’s a question I’ve been asked before, and the short answer is: yes.

Just because I lay down and close my eyes doesn’t mean the saliva issues I deal with during the day suddenly disappear. They don’t. The need to spit doesn’t clock out when I do.

Ever since my time in the hospital and getting a G-tube, my sleep habits have changed. I used to sleep on my stomach, but now that’s no longer an option. For some reason, I always end up falling asleep on my right side, even if I don’t start there. That’s just what my body prefers now.

The good news is that I don’t have trouble falling asleep—never really have. But that doesn’t mean I sleep through the night uninterrupted.

Waking and Spitting: The New Normal

I often wake up during the night and use my cup to spit out excess saliva. Sometimes I wonder if that’s the reason I woke up—or if something else stirred me. There’s no way to know for sure. Either way, the need is there, and I take care of it.

There have been a few rare nights when I slept a solid four to six hours straight—and when that happens, I’m thrilled. It feels amazing. But most nights, I’m up at least once or twice. Thankfully, I don’t usually have a hard time getting back to sleep.

Early Rising, Always

No matter what kind of night I’ve had, I almost always wake up early. If I’m always awake by or before 6:30 a.m., that’s pretty standard for me. If I somehow sleep past 7, it’s considered impressive. But if I make it to 8 a.m., now that’s rare—and I mean rare.

On the rare occasion I make it to 8:00 a.m., my mom has actually come to check on me, just to make sure I’m still breathing. That’s how uncommon it is. It’s not meant to be dramatic—it’s just a funny truth about how in-tune my family is with my routine.

The Patch Factor

One thing that does affect my saliva level is what day I’m on with my scopolamine patch. (mentioned more in-depth in previous posts) Whether it’s day 1, 2, or 3 makes a difference in how much saliva I produce. I’ve learned to recognize those patterns and plan around them—because when you live with something daily, you become a quiet expert in how your body behaves.

What My Nighttime Routine Really Looks Like

One question people might wonder is: Do you choke while sleeping? And the answer is—thankfully—no. I don’t need to be propped up on pillows or sleep in a recliner. I can lie flat just like anyone else.

That said, I do have to be careful with when I eat my last meal. Because of some acid reflux issues, I try to wait at least an hour or two before lying down. If I don’t, there's a chance the liquid food could come back up—especially if I cough while spitting. It’s not something I like to dwell on, but it’s part of the reality. Sometimes when I clear my throat or cough a little to get the saliva out, that effort can pull liquid back up, and that’s definitely no fun.

Keeping It Simple: No Special Gear, Just a Cup and a Towel

My nighttime setup isn’t complicated. I don’t have special bedding or fancy tools. When I was in the hospital and had zero control over my saliva or nasal drainage, they used to place a washcloth on my shoulder to catch the excess liquid. But I’ve come a long way from that.

Today, the only thing I keep nearby at night is a white Styrofoam cup with a paper towel tucked inside—the same setup I use during the day. It sits on my nightstand within reach, and that’s all I need to manage my saliva until the morning.

Whether I’m Home or Away

If I’m traveling—whether it’s vacation or just staying at someone else’s house—nothing really changes. I don’t need a lot of special prep. I just make sure I have a fresh cup ready before bed, and that’s it. That one cup usually lasts me through the whole night, all the way until breakfast the next day.

With a little planning, I can rest just about anywhere.

Do I Still Dream?

Yes, I do still dream. I’ve never been someone who dreams a lot, but I do have them from time to time. The G-tube or saliva management doesn’t interfere with that. And thankfully, the waking moments I do have during the night don’t rob me of peace.

“I will both lay me down in peace, and sleep: for thou, Lord, only makest me dwell in safety.” Psalm 4:8

Saliva and Spiritual Spaces

One area where I’ve become especially aware of my saliva management is during public worship and prayer time at church. While I don’t usually feel self-conscious about it in day-to-day life, there’s something about being in a sacred space, around others, that can make me feel a little more guarded.

I’ve found that I sometimes hold back during worship, not because I don’t want to praise freely, but because I’m concerned about how things might look if I appear messy or if someone notices me spitting. It’s not about shame—it’s about wanting to maintain reverence while also navigating something practical and very human.

But I’m working on that.

Because the truth is, God already knows. He knows my needs, my process, my heart. And if I’m going to worship Him in spirit and in truth, I have to let go of what people might think and focus instead on what He sees—and He sees surrender, not embarrassment.

“For man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7

“Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God.” 1 Corinthians 10:31

Managing saliva isn’t something I love talking about—but it’s real, and it’s part of my life. I hope by sharing these details, you can see that God’s grace reaches even the parts of life that feel uncomfortable or unspoken.

Healing looks different for everyone. For me, it’s been slow, practical, and deeply spiritual. And if you’re walking through something similar, please know: you’re not alone.

“He knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we are dust.” Psalm 103:14

I’d Love to Hear from You

Have you had to adapt your nighttime routine for a health reason? Do you sometimes feel like you hold back in worship due to a visible struggle?

Feel free to share in the comments, message me privately, or just know I’m praying for you. Your journey matters.

16-year Anniversary: July, 24, 2009

As I share this, I can’t help but remember that sixteen years have passed since the wreck. Sixteen years of surgeries, stretching seasons, unexpected turns, and silent prayers. Some nights I lay down and wonder, Lord, is this really all the farther I’ve come? But then other nights, I feel a holy hush settle over me—and I realize just how far His grace has carried me.

I think about all I’ve lost—physical ease, old dreams, plans I once held tightly. But then I remember all I’ve gained: faith that’s been fire-tested, compassion born from pain, and a closeness with God I never would have known without the breaking.

Healing hasn’t been flashy or fast. It’s been quiet, sacred, and sometimes invisible. But it’s real. And on this anniversary, I don’t just thank God for the distance I’ve come—I thank Him for every moment He’s never let go of my hand.

“And I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten...” Joel 2:25a

Father,

For the one reading this who’s carrying quiet pain or unspoken struggles, I ask for Your peace to wrap around them tonight. Remind them that they are not alone—that You are near to the brokenhearted and acquainted with every detail of their journey.

For every loss, let there be unexpected gain. For every sleepless night, let there be a whisper of Your presence. For every change that feels hard, let there be grace that feels deeper.

Lord, restore what the years have taken. Renew what has grown weary. And let Your glory shine through the cracks of our stories.

Thank You for being the God who stays—not just in the daylight, but in the long, silent nights.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Be encouraged. 🧡

Feeding Myself, Finding Freedom: my journey with a g-tube

“But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.” James 1:4

What Does It Mean to Truly Rely on Others?

When I first had my G-tube placed, I had no idea how dependent I would be. In the hospital, the nurses handled everything for me—adding the extension, holding the syringe, pouring the formula, even administering crushed and diluted medications through the tube. It all happened without me having to lift a finger, because at that time... I couldn’t.

The feedings were simple in schedule—just three meals a day—but physically and emotionally, it was anything but simple. I was weak, healing, and overwhelmed. I didn’t have the strength, coordination, or understanding to participate in my own care. I just had to be still, let someone else take over, and trust the process.

The Transition Home: More Calories, More Challenges

Once I returned home, my schedule changed drastically. I was in physical, occupational, and speech therapy three days a week, three hours at a time. That much movement increased my need for calories—and fast. I couldn’t survive on three small feedings a day. I needed five, sometimes six, just to keep up.

But each of those meals still had to be administered by someone else.

It’s one thing to be dependent in a hospital setting, where care is expected. It’s another thing entirely to feel helpless in your own home, having to ask someone every few hours, “Can you feed me?” Or, “Can you crush this medicine for me?”

That stage of life required humility, patience, and a whole lot of grace—not just from God, but from those around me, too.

Gradual Progress: A Milestone in My Hand

The first real sign of independence didn’t look like much to most people—but to me, it was a miracle.

I could hold my own syringe.

My hand didn’t wobble as much. I could brace my arm just enough to steady the extension. Someone else still had to pour the liquid, but the act of me holding it—of physically participating in my feeding—was monumental.

It was a moment where I felt my body obeying again, just a little.

“Despise not the day of small things,” the Scripture says in Zechariah 4:10. And I didn’t. I celebrated it.

Learning to Pour, Bit by Bit

From there, I graduated to pouring small amounts of formula myself. I couldn’t do it from any container—I needed wide, short ones where I had a steady grip. My dexterity was still weak. But I was pouring. I was contributing.

Each stage wasn’t just physical progress—it was spiritual, too. Every new step was a reminder that healing doesn't always come all at once. Sometimes, it’s gradual. Sometimes, it’s slow. But always, it’s in God’s time.

“Faithful is he that calleth you, who also will do it.” 1 Thessalonians 5:24

“He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength.” Isaiah 40:29

Growing Capable: From Partial to Full Independence

“I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” Philippians 4:13

After those small, early milestones, I gradually began doing some of my feedings completely on my own—not all of them, but just one or two a day to start. It was a matter of endurance and timing. Some parts of the day I had more energy and stability, so I’d feed myself during those windows. Other times, I still needed help.

But that’s how growth works—it’s not always linear. Sometimes progress feels slow, even invisible, but it’s still happening.

Practice, Therapy, and Confidence

Through continued therapy and intentional practice, my coordination steadily improved. Little by little, my hands stopped trembling as much. My arms grew stronger. The movements became smoother. I was building not just muscle, but confidence.

Now, I’m able to prepare my tube feedings entirely on my own. I gather the syringe and extension set, which locks securely into my G-tube—just a small, button-like piece that protrudes slightly from my stomach. It’s what’s known as a Mickey button, and though it’s a permanent part of my body, it’s also become something I’ve grown quite comfortable managing.

Creating My Setup: Simple, but Mine

I’ve also developed my own little system—a setup that works for me. I lay a hand towel across my lap like a large napkin, just in case of spills, which still happen from time to time. Feeding myself isn’t always clean or perfect, but it’s mine.

That towel isn’t just fabric—it’s part of my independence. It represents my readiness. My ability. My ownership of this process.

“For thou hast girded me with strength unto the battle: thou hast subdued under me those that rose up against me.” Psalm 18:39

From Synthetic to Whole: Rethinking My Nutrition

Over the years, what goes into my body has also evolved. I used to rely strictly on hospital-supplied formula—calorie-dense, shelf-stable, but not very wholesome.

Eventually, I began using over-the-counter protein shakes and powders, tweaking my nutrition to better fit my needs. Now, I use a combination of those protein supplements and real food blend pouches for my main meals. These are made of pureed, whole foods—balanced and easier on my stomach. They also give me a greater sense of eating something real, even if it doesn’t pass through my mouth.

I’m currently back to three meals a day, carefully calculated to meet my body’s needs. On days I go to the gym, I try to reach up to 2,500 calories. My baseline goal is at least one gram of protein per pound of body weight, because I know that protein builds strength and keeps me full.

There’s a strategy to all of this, and it’s one I’ve learned through time, prayer, and discipline.

The Gift of Feeding Myself

I no longer have to wait on someone else’s schedule. I don’t have to feel guilty for asking for help or worry about whether someone is available. I can respond to my body’s needs when I feel hungry. And yes—I do feel hunger and fullness, just like anyone else. Occasionally, I’ll burp and taste the food I’ve put into my tube. That may sound strange to some, but to me, it’s a reminder that my body is still connected to the act of nourishment.

This autonomy is one of the greatest gifts God has given me in recent years. Not just the ability to feed myself, but the freedom to do so confidently.

“The Lord is my strength and song, and is become my salvation.” Psalm 118:14

“And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.” Galatians 6:9

Freedom to Come and Go

Being able to completely manage my tube feedings now is a tremendous blessing. It gives me freedom—not just the ability to eat when I’m hungry, but the independence to come and go as I please.

Whether I’m at home, visiting a friend, out for a day trip, or even on an extended trip for several days or weeks, I can take care of my feedings without help. I don’t have to structure my life around someone else’s availability. That kind of independence is something I once only dreamed of, and now it’s part of my daily life. And I thank God for that.

A Lighthearted Spirit

One more thing I want to say—because it matters. I’m not sensitive or easily offended when it comes to talking about my G-tube. In fact, I’m very open about it, and I even joke about it myself sometimes. So if someone else cracks a joke or brings it up, that’s fine with me. It doesn’t upset me or make me feel ashamed. It’s just part of my life, and I’d rather laugh about it than let it weigh me down.

“A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones.” Proverbs 17:22

This tube doesn’t define me—but it has certainly helped shape me into a stronger, more patient, and more joyful version of myself.

One Step at a Time

They say Rome wasn’t built in a day, and I try to keep that in front of me when progress feels slow. Every new movement, every time I pour without spilling, every feeding I do myself—each one is a brick in the foundation of my healing. I'm not where I used to be, and that alone is reason to give God praise.

Sometimes we rush toward the end goal, forgetting that the journey is what shapes us. But I’ve learned through this process that the small victories are sacred, and the daily steps are holy ground.

“Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.” Philippians 1:6

“The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord: and he delighteth in his way.” Psalm 37:23

Final Thought

If you’re walking through your own slow journey—whether it’s with a feeding tube, chronic illness, or just the process of learning to do life differently—know this: progress isn’t always loud, and healing doesn’t always look like it used to. But every step counts. And every step brings you closer to strength, stability, and the peace God has for you.

Up Next…

I often get asked, “What do you do at night? Do you have to spit your saliva while sleeping?”
That’s a great question—and I’ll be addressing it in an upcoming post. So stay tuned!

Be encouraged. 🧡                                                                     🎵Hold On

Faith Beyond the Ashes: Job's story still teaches

"But he knoweth the way that I take: when he hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold." Job 23:10

The Weight of Job

Lately, the Book of Job has been heavy on my heart. It’s one of those books I’ve returned to time and again—not because it’s easy to read, but because it speaks to the very soul of human suffering and divine sovereignty. If you’ve ever walked through grief, loss, injury, or pain that defied understanding, you may already know why Job’s story stands out.

Job wasn’t just a man who suffered; he was a man who remained steadfast in the midst of unimaginable sorrow. He lost his wealth, his children, his health, and the support of those closest to him. And in the middle of it all, he poured out his heart to God—not with polished prayers, but with raw, unfiltered questions. It was not rebellion, but relationship. He was hurting, and he took that pain straight to the Lord.

The Lesson of True Friendship

Of all the many lessons we can learn from the Book of Job, perhaps one of the most overlooked is this: what does it mean to be a true friend? Job's friends started well. They sat in silence with him for seven days, which shows that sometimes the ministry of presence is more powerful than words. But when they finally spoke, they failed him. Instead of offering grace, they offered judgment. Instead of holding him up, they tore him down.

We must learn from their mistake.

When someone is suffering, they don’t need our theories. They don’t need us to explain or fix everything. They need us to sit with them, to pray for them, to love them without condition. Sometimes just being present is the most Christ-like thing we can do.

And while Job’s friends missed the mark, there is a Friend who never does.

"A man that hath friends must shew himself friendly: and there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother." Proverbs 18:24

Jesus is that friend. The one who knows our pain, hears our cries, and never leaves our side. He doesn’t accuse. He doesn’t abandon. He walks with us through every fire and carries us when we can’t go another step.

Personal Reflection

I think about my own life when I read Job. I think about the wreck I survived in 2009, the lasting injuries, and the many struggles since. There were times when I didn’t know if healing, or even getting out of bed, was a possibility. There were nights of tears, days of silence, and seasons where prayer was all I had left. But through it all, I learned something that Job knew before me: With God, all things are possible.

"Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him." Job 13:15

That verse isn't just a poetic line—it's a lifeline. It says, “Even if I don’t understand, I still believe.” It reminds me that faith is not the absence of pain but the presence of trust. Job knew his Redeemer lived, even while sitting in ashes.

Witnessing Others' Battles

Recently, I’ve been surrounded by others fighting their own Job-like battles. One situation in particular has been resting on my heart: someone I know received a terminal cancer diagnosis. The doctors gave no hope. The cancer had spread, even into the brain. Hospice was brought in. They chose to forego aggressive treatment, and I fully understand that choice. Sometimes the treatments feel worse than the illness itself. The sickness steals your strength, and the cure can rob your dignity.

Seeing someone face that kind of battle makes you think deeply about the fragility of life. About how quick it all goes. And yet, it also reveals what matters most—faith, peace, and the assurance of eternity.

Refining Fire

Job’s statement, "when he hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold," has echoed in my soul many times. Fire is painful. Trials are not easy. But what if this life—full of all its brokenness—is the furnace that refines us for eternity?

We don’t always get answers in this life. Job didn’t get one either, not really. God never told him why he suffered, but He reminded him who He was. And sometimes, that’s enough.

"For I know that my redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth." Job 19:25

That kind of faith endures even when the body is breaking down. It keeps us anchored when the wind blows hard. It tells us we are not forgotten. That God still knows the way we take—even when we don’t know the way ourselves.

Hope That Cannot Die

To those going through a season of suffering right now—whether in body, mind, or spirit—Job’s story is not a tale of defeat. It’s a testimony of trust. It tells us we can question, we can cry, we can sit in silence. But we don’t have to lose hope.

Hope is not denial. It’s not pretending everything is fine. Hope is choosing to believe in God’s goodness even when nothing makes sense. It’s holding on to the hem of His garment, trusting that one day, healing will come—whether on this side of eternity or the next.

Job’s life didn’t end in ashes. God restored him. But even if that restoration had looked different, his faith still would have been enough. That’s the kind of faith I want. The kind that says:

"Naked came I out of my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return thither: the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord." Job 1:21

To be tried, to be broken, to be humbled—and still to bless the name of the Lord. That’s gold. That’s what lasts.

So wherever you are in your own story, know this: God knows the way you take. Your suffering is not wasted. Your faith is not in vain. And when this refining is over—you, too, shall come forth as gold.

God Knew Job—and He Knows Us

One of the most remarkable parts of Job’s story is something Job himself never knew. He didn’t know that it was God who pointed him out to Satan. That blows my mind every time I think about it. The Lord said to Satan:

"Hast thou considered my servant Job, that there is none like him in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, one that feareth God, and escheweth evil?" Job 1:8

God had confidence in Job's faithfulness. Imagine that. God knew Job would endure—even when Job didn’t know what was going on behind the scenes. That speaks volumes about how God sees us when we’re walking through something we don’t understand.

Sometimes, the trials we face are not because of our failures, but because of our faithfulness. It’s not punishment—it’s refinement. It’s not rejection—it’s trust. God trusted Job to endure. And in that same way, I believe God knows what we can handle, and more importantly, what He can bring us through.

Faith Beyond Understanding

As I’ve said before, every one of us has our own struggles and battles to face in life. No one walks through this world unscathed. But the way we face those trials—that becomes our testimony.

Job did not know God would restore him. He had no guarantee that things would turn around. Yet, he chose to stay faithful. He chose trust over bitterness. He chose praise over silence. That’s the kind of determination that speaks louder than any sermon. That’s a life lived in surrender, not because of the outcome, but because of who God is.

God saw Job’s faithfulness. And He rewarded it—not because Job was perfect, but because Job held on.

God Finishes What He Starts

I have to remind myself often: God is not sloppy. He’s not careless. He’s not forgetful. He is a God of completion. A God of perfection.

"Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ."  Philippians 1:6

He doesn’t do things halfway. He finishes what He starts. And knowing that gives me peace—peace when life is uncertain, peace when prayers seem unanswered, peace when the process feels long and painful.

We see this throughout Scripture:

• Noah didn’t just build a boat—he saw dry land again.
• Joseph didn’t just suffer in prison—he stood in Pharaoh’s palace.
• David didn’t just run from Saul—he became king.
• Jesus didn’t just die—He rose again.

That is the God I serve. One who redeems. One who restores. One who completes.

He Will Make a Way

There have been so many moments in my own life where I could not see a way forward. I didn’t understand the next step. I didn’t know how anything good could come from where I was. But here’s the thing—I didn’t have to. He did.

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord." Isaiah 55:8

That’s why I can trust Him. Because when I come to the end of myself, He is just getting started. When there seems to be no way—He makes one. He parts seas. He rolls away stones. He opens doors no man can shut.

I don’t have to know everything. I don’t have to understand the “why.” I just have to trust the Who.

Final Encouragement

If you're in a season of loss, grief, illness, or uncertainty—remember Job. Remember that he didn’t have all the answers. He didn’t even have hope of restoration. But he had trust. And it was enough.

"Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him." Job 13:15

You may not see the end of the road right now. You may be tired, discouraged, or overwhelmed. But the God who began a good work in you will finish it. He is not done. He sees your tears. He knows your name. And He will bring you forth as gold.

So hold on to Him, because He is holding on to you.

Do you feel like Job, perhaps?

 Be encouraged. 🧡

God Sees Beyond the Surface

As the days stretch longer and the skies warm with sunshine, I find myself pulled in many directions. The calendar starts to fill—appointments, gatherings, errands, obligations—and though these are often good things, I feel this tug in my heart not to lose sight of what matters most: sharing a word of encouragement with you.

I’ll be honest—I didn’t sit down with a specific message in mind this time. I’m trusting God to guide these words as they unfold. Sometimes, when life is busy, the heart gets quiet. Not because it has nothing to say, but because it’s waiting—waiting for the right moment, the right words, the right opportunity. Maybe this is that moment.

Lately, I’ve found myself struggling with the feeling of having to “appear” a certain way. Do you ever feel that way too? Like you can’t let folks see your real thoughts or your tired soul? Like you’ve got to wear a mask just to get through the day?

I think we all do it at times. We smile when we’re hurting. We say “I’m fine” when we’re barely holding on. We serve others while silently hoping someone might see our own need. But God sees. Oh, how He sees.

“For the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7

There is such comfort in knowing that God isn’t fooled by our mask. He sees behind it. He knows when we’re overwhelmed, weary, or just longing for a quiet place to breathe. And He invites us to come to Him exactly as we are.

“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28

If today you’re wearing a mask—trying to keep it together for others, pushing past your own weariness—know that God isn’t asking for your perfection. He’s asking for your honesty. He wants your heart. He wants you to come just as you are.

Even in a full schedule, He has a place for us to rest. Even in a world that demands a polished image, He gives us permission to be real. And when we show up—raw, honest, and seeking—He meets us with grace.

“Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you.” 1 Peter 5:7

The Power of a Testimony

Speaking of being real, I want to share a personal testimony from just a couple of weeks ago. Because Revelation 12:11 tells us:

“And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony…” Revelation 12:11

Testimonies have power. They are not just stories; they are evidence of God’s presence and work in our lives. And I believe with all my heart that what He does for one, He can and will do for another. God does not play favorites, and He is no respecter of persons (Acts 10:34). So if this touched me, maybe it will touch you too.

During a recent church service, I had been quietly struggling. I didn’t know exactly how to respond to God’s spiritual tug on my heart. I felt unsure—unsure of how to pray, unsure if I was hearing right, unsure if I should go to someone, or just stay where I was. I had this weight in my soul, this longing to feel close to God, but also a hesitancy I couldn't quite name.

And so I prayed.

It wasn’t a fancy prayer or even a long one. I just told the Lord that I didn’t even know what to ask for. I admitted that I didn’t know whether I needed to go to the altar, speak to someone, or just sit quietly. But I asked Him, simply and sincerely, “Lord, if I need prayer—could You please send someone to me?”

Within minutes, a dear saint came to my pew, leaned over gently, and said, “I want to pray for you.” Just like that. No prompting. No signal. Just God, answering in real time.

That moment reached deep into my heart. It was exactly what I needed. Not just the prayer, but the reassurance that God sees me. He heard a quiet prayer of uncertainty and responded with perfect timing and love. That wasn’t coincidence. That was God—personal, compassionate, present.

He Sees and Responds

I share this because maybe you’ve felt that same quiet struggle. Maybe you’ve been in a place where you didn’t have the words. Maybe your heart has been overwhelmed to the point where all you could do was sit in silence and hope that somehow, God would meet you there.

He will.

God doesn’t require grand gestures from us. He meets us in the whisper. In the tear. In the moments when we admit we don’t have it all figured out. That day in church reminded me once again how near He is to the brokenhearted.

“The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.” Psalm 34:18

And here’s what else I want you to know: I have not arrived. I have not evolved into some spiritually perfect version of myself. I still need God’s help, His guidance, His comfort, His correction—every single day. I need prayers at all levels of my being. And I believe that makes me a candidate for grace, not disqualification from it.

More Than Words

I also struggled with what to say this time. I never want my words to feel empty. I don’t want them to just sit on a page. I want you to feel them, to connect, to know that you're not alone in whatever you're pursuing or facing.

Whether it’s a healthier lifestyle, diving deeper into Bible study, or tackling a brand-new endeavor, I want you to be reminded of one foundational truth:

“I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” Philippians 4:13

This verse has anchored me through countless challenges, especially during my recovery journey—a journey still in motion, still incomplete. But even though the process isn’t finished, I take hope in the progress. Each day is a step closer than the one before.

I’ve often held this truth close: If God has brought you to it, He will bring you through it. It’s not just a nice saying—it’s been a lifeline. When I couldn’t see the way forward, He made a way. And He’ll do the same for you.

Sometimes, when we feel that way—not knowing what to do or say—it can bring feelings of shame or discouragement. We may wonder, “Why can’t I get this right?” or “Why do I still feel stuck when I’m trying so hard to please the Lord?”

When we’re doing our best to live right, to listen for His voice, to honor Him in our daily walk—but we still feel like it’s not enough, like something’s missing—that’s a vulnerable place. And I just want to say: you are not alone there.

I’ve been sitting in that space too. And I have to believe—I choose to believe—that clarity is coming.

It may not come in flashing lights or sudden answers. But it will come. God is not a God of confusion. He is a God of peace, of order, and of gentle leading. And when we stay near to Him, even in our uncertainty, He promises to direct our paths.

“For God is not the author of confusion, but of peace…” 1 Corinthians 14:33

...So hold on. If that’s where you are right now—between questions and clarity—just keep holding on. Because He hasn’t forgotten you.

And when He does answer, it’s often in the most personal, unmistakable ways. I go back to that moment in church—a moment I’ll never forget—when I asked God silently, from the depths of my unsure heart, if someone might come pray with me. I didn’t even have the words. I just knew I needed Him to move.

And He did.

That dear sister came to my pew with no idea what I had just prayed. But God knew. He heard. He answered.

There is such great comfort in knowing that the very thing I whispered in prayer—He responded to. It wasn’t grand or loud, but it was precise, timely, and full of His care. That’s the kind of God we serve: one who sees the need, hears the heart, and answers in love.

“Before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear.” Isaiah 65:24

Grace for Today

So, if you're reading this and thinking, “That sounds like me—unsure, weary, hidden behind a mask”—then you’re not alone. You are seen. You are loved. And you are right where God can reach you.

Today, don’t worry about looking the part. Just be real. Lay your burdens before the Lord, even if all you can do is whisper His name. He’s listening. He’s responding. And sometimes, He might just send someone to your pew too.

With all my heart, be encouraged 🧡

                                                                   🎵Listen to these words Trust in God