The Journey Continues

Before I get into all of that, I have to say that this has been a particularly trying week—not necessarily because of one specific thing, but just life in general. We all have those weeks when things seem to pile up, when our minds are full, and when we are trying to keep up with everything happening around us. I certainly have had one of those weeks.

Sometimes, in the middle of trying to manage all the things life brings our way, a conversation or a new piece of information comes along that makes us stop and think. That is what happened recently, and I wanted to share it because it may shed some light on a few things I have been trying to understand about my own recovery.

Another part of my ongoing journey toward improvement. My weekly time in the saddle continues to challenge me, encourage me, and remind me that there are always new goals to work toward. Progress comes in many different forms!

As many of you know, my journey since the motorcycle accident in 2009 has involved a tremendous amount of rehabilitation, physical challenges, and learning to live with the changes that followed. Recovery has never been a straight line. There have been milestones worth celebrating, difficult days that required patience, and seasons when I have had to learn to approach familiar challenges in new ways.

Even after all these years, I am still looking for ways to improve my movement, coordination, swallowing, and overall quality of life. I believe there is value in continuing to learn about my body and asking questions when something doesn't seem to have a clear explanation.

This past week, I had a session with a massage therapist I have been seeing for the past few months. Our work has focused on addressing some of the physical issues I continue to experience from the accident, helping me work toward smoother movement and responses, and supporting the different goals I have established for my recovery.

During this particular session, our conversation took an interesting turn. Something she shared with me introduced a possibility I had never heard of or even considered before.

That possibility involved the vagus nerve.

A Conversation That Introduced a New Possibility

I have recently received an EOE diagnosis, which stands for eosinophilic esophagitis. This is a condition in which certain white blood cells, called eosinophils, build up in the esophagus and cause inflammation. I have also been dealing with other medical concerns, and together these findings have given me more to investigate.

Most importantly, I have been trying to understand what these findings might mean in relation to the swallowing difficulties I have experienced since my accident.

My swallowing problems have been especially challenging because they have persisted for so many years. Recent evaluations have continued to raise questions about the coordination and function involved in swallowing. My upper esophageal sphincter (UES), the muscle that helps control the passage of food and liquid from the throat into the esophagus, has not been opening as it should.

The medical professionals I have consulted have discussed the possibility of a neurological component to these difficulties.

Given the nature of the injuries I sustained in my accident, that is certainly an avenue worth investigating. My recovery involved significant neurological challenges, and even now, there are things about the way my body responds and functions that I am still trying to understand.

One of the reasons the conversation with my massage therapist caught my attention was learning that the vagus nerve originates in the brainstem, an area that has been part of my own medical history. It travels through the neck and into the chest and abdomen, connecting with several systems involved in important bodily functions, including swallowing and digestion.

Could there be a connection worth investigating? Could some of the difficulties I experience be related to how these neurological pathways communicate with the muscles and organs involved?

I don't have those answers. But I find myself asking different questions now, and sometimes that is where the next step in understanding begins.

There is something interesting about living with a condition for so many years and still discovering things you have never considered. You would think that after all the appointments, evaluations, procedures, and conversations with medical professionals, I would have exhausted the possibilities of what might be contributing to my difficulties. Yet here I am, seventeen years later, learning about a nerve that plays a role in several of the very functions I struggle with.

What caught my attention wasn't simply learning about another nerve in the body. It was realizing how closely its responsibilities relate to the areas where I continue to experience difficulties. It made me wonder how many pieces of the puzzle might still be unexplored.

What Is the Vagus Nerve?

The vagus nerve is one of the major nerves involved in communication between the brain and the body. It begins in the brainstem, passes through the neck, and extends into the chest and abdomen, sending branches to several important organs.

Think about how many things our bodies do without us having to consciously tell them to happen. Our heart beats, our digestive system processes food, and our bodies continually communicate information between organs and the brain. We don't have to stop and think about every individual process.

The vagus nerve is one of the important pathways involved in that communication. It carries information in both directions, from the brain to the body and from the body back to the brain.

It plays a significant role in the parasympathetic nervous system, which helps regulate many of the body's automatic functions, including aspects of heart rate and digestion.

What particularly interested me was its involvement in swallowing and the muscles of the throat and larynx. Branches of the vagus nerve help coordinate movements needed for swallowing, voice production, and airway protection.

These are areas that have been part of my ongoing challenges.

Learning about these responsibilities made me pause. Here is a nerve that connects the brainstem with so many systems throughout the body, including areas that are directly relevant to some of the challenges I have been trying to understand, yet I had never heard it previously mentioned in relation to my situation.

It is fascinating to consider how something we rarely think about can have such an important role in everyday functions.

Could the vagus nerve be part of the picture in my situation?

I do not know. That is a question for further investigation, not a conclusion I can draw from reading about the nerve's functions. Nevertheless, I find it encouraging to learn more about the systems involved.

Could the Nervous System Be Playing a Role?

Another part of our conversation concerned the body's response to stress and trauma.

Our nervous system helps us respond to danger. When we encounter a perceived threat, the body can activate what we commonly call the fight-or-flight response. This prepares the body to respond to a situation that it perceives as threatening.

But our bodies also have systems that help regulate us when that immediate response is no longer necessary. The parasympathetic nervous system plays an important role in allowing the body to rest, recover, and carry out functions such as digestion. The vagus nerve is a major part of this system.

What my massage therapist brought to my attention was the possibility that the nervous system's regulation of certain functions might be relevant to my situation.

She wondered whether the area involved in digestion and the esophagus could be responding in a way that affects muscle function. The possibility she raised was that some aspect of the body's protective response might be contributing to the difficulties I experience.

It was an interesting thought, especially because I have spent so much time trying to understand why my upper esophageal sphincter does not open properly.

I found myself thinking about how the body responds to trauma and how complicated those responses can be. While there is no evidence yet that my swallowing difficulties are caused by a prolonged protective response, the relationship between neurological function and swallowing is something I want to understand better.

There is an important distinction here. The vagus nerve is involved in swallowing and digestive function, but that does not establish that my esophagus is clamping down because my body is stuck in a protective state. Nor does it mean that relaxation techniques can correct a problem caused by nerve injury or impaired muscle coordination.

My swallowing difficulties could involve several factors, including neurological dysfunction, muscle coordination, and the inflammation associated with my esophageal condition. Determining how those factors relate to one another requires medical evaluation.

Still, I believe there is value in this newly suggested possibility.

If the nervous system is contributing to my difficulties, I want to understand how. If another explanation is more likely, I want to understand that, too.

My goal is not to settle on an explanation simply because it sounds promising. My goal is to keep learning and make informed decisions about my care.

Humming, Singing, and Deep Breathing

Another part of our conversation involved simple activities that may influence how the body responds to stress.

My active participation would include humming, singing, and deep breathing as things worth considering. These activities are often discussed in connection with relaxation and nervous system regulation. Slow, controlled breathing can help some people feel calmer, while humming and singing involve coordination of breathing, the vocal cords, and muscles in the throat and larynx.

The idea interested me for several reasons.

Interestingly, singing and breathing are things we often take for granted. We don't typically think about all the coordination involved in producing a sound, controlling our breath, or moving the muscles that allow us to speak or sing.

Yet these activities involve several of the same general structures that have been part of my swallowing challenges.

I began thinking about how these activities might fit into the other exercises I am already doing. I have been working on specific swallowing exercises and techniques recommended by my speech therapist, and I am always interested in learning whether there are other appropriate ways to support that work.

Breathing exercises are already familiar to me as part of the work I do to improve my physical function. The possibility of incorporating humming or singing into an appropriate routine gave me something new to consider.

Of course, there is a difference between an activity that promotes relaxation and one that directly improves a neurological swallowing disorder. I don't know whether these suggestions will make a difference in my particular situation, but they are things I intend to employ- it can’t hurt to try.

Sometimes the simplest suggestions lead us to investigate things we might otherwise have overlooked.

Continuing to Search for Answers

One thing I have learned throughout this journey is that the absence of an immediate answer does not mean there is nothing left to learn.

I have lived with these swallowing difficulties for many years. I have undergone evaluations and treatments, and I continue to work toward understanding what is happening in my body.

My recent appointments have brought new information, including my EOE diagnosis and continued concerns about the function of my upper esophageal sphincter. Each finding needs to be considered carefully. Eosinophilic esophagitis can cause inflammation and other esophageal problems, but it does not automatically explain every swallowing difficulty. Likewise, identifying a possible neurological component does not tell us precisely which nerve pathways or muscles may be involved.

There is still much to understand.

I am grateful for the professionals who take the time to listen, explain, and help me explore appropriate options. I am also learning to appreciate the value of asking questions outside the narrow boundaries of what I already know.

That does not mean accepting every theory as fact. It means remaining open to reasonable possibilities while allowing evidence and qualified medical guidance to help determine what deserves further attention.

For me, that is an important part of advocating for my own health.

I want to keep learning. I want to keep asking questions. And I want to keep looking for ways to improve, even when progress takes longer than I would like.

Sometimes the Next Answer Begins With a New Question

There have been many times throughout my recovery when I thought I understood something, only to discover there was another layer I hadn't considered. Sometimes the information comes from a medical appointment. Sometimes it comes from a conversation with someone who sees something from a different perspective. And sometimes it comes from simply taking the time to research and learn.

I have learned that advocating for my health means being willing to ask questions, even when I don't know where those questions might lead.

I also recognize that not every possibility will turn into an answer, and not every suggestion will be appropriate for my circumstances. I have to be willing to listen, research, consult the right professionals, and exercise patience along the way.

But I don't want to become so accustomed to living with something that I stop looking for ways to improve it.

Seventeen years is a long time to live with certain limitations. Yet I still believe there is value in pursuing improvement, even when the progress is small or the answers take longer than expected.

There is something humbling about realizing how much we can learn about our own bodies, even after years of living with a particular condition.

The more I learn about the human body, the more I am reminded of just how intricately we are created. There are systems working together every moment of every day that we rarely stop to consider. Even something as seemingly simple as swallowing involves an extraordinary amount of coordination between the brain, nerves, muscles, and other structures.

Psalm 139:14 "I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well."

I don't understand all the complexities of how my body works, and I certainly don't understand everything that has happened since my accident. But I am continually reminded that there is so much more to our bodies than what we can see or explain.

My faith has been an important part of this journey from the beginning. It reminds me that I do not have to understand every detail of the road ahead to keep taking the next step. I can acknowledge what I do not know without giving up hope, and I can continue seeking answers while trusting God with the things I cannot control.

Proverbs 3:5–6 "Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths."

That passage does not promise that every question will be answered when we want it answered. Instead, it reminds me where to place my trust as I continue walking through uncertainty.

I certainly do not have all the answers. I am sharing this conversation because it gave me a new subject to investigate and a new possibility to discuss with the professionals involved in my care.

Perhaps the vagus nerve will prove to be an important part of understanding my situation. Perhaps it will lead to other questions that help clarify what is happening. Or perhaps the explanation will be something different altogether.

I do not know yet.

What I do know is that I am still here, still learning, and still working toward improvement.

I am thankful for every person who has encouraged me, prayed for me, shared information, or simply taken the time to ask how I am doing. Your interest and support mean more than you may realize.

The journey is not finished.

And neither am I.

 Be encouraged. 🧡

Reclaiming Strength in the Quiet Hours

When I first sat down to write to you today, I almost walked away.

I told myself I didn't have anything "newsworthy" to report—no giant leaps, no flashy announcements, no major wins to show off. But as I sat with that feeling, I realized how mistaken I was. I didn't need a headline to sit down with you and offer encouragement. Sometimes the most important updates are the quiet, real ones about where we are internally.

Reclaiming Strength in the Arena

I am four weeks into my time with my therapy horse, Cash.

Typically, I rely on a plastic step stool to mount and dismount. But last week, the stool was out of town. Standing in the arena next to Cash, I realized my only choice was to mount straight from the ground.

I genuinely didn't know if I had the coordination or the strength to do it. But I took a breath, gathered myself, and made it up into the saddle.

It made me feel incredible. It was proof that beneath the surface, quiet strength has been building. It made me realize I am moving closer to tackling other physical goals that have felt elusive—like climbing a rock wall—and doing it under my own strength without relying on assistance.

Cash

Reading Job with New Eyes

That physical milestone coincided with a deep reflection from my daily audio devotion on the Book of Job.

I’ve read Job multiple times over the years, but listening to it this time unlocked something new in his long monologues. Job was processing overwhelming grief—the loss of his children, his health, and his entire livelihood. He was desperately trying to understand why, because Job didn't know what we know from Chapters 1 and 2. He didn't see the behind-the-scenes permission God granted; he was simply enduring the affliction in the dark while holding onto his faith.

As Job reminisced about the man he used to be and how people once viewed him, it struck a deep chord in me.

I have lost a lot over the years, and I realized that part of my own sadness has been grieving the person I used to be. It’s not necessarily a desire to turn back the clock, but rather a longing for what I used to be capable of accomplishing. That is a very real, personal struggle—learning to navigate the space between who you were and who you are becoming.

Losing the step stool in the arena was a small, physical reminder that while I may be grieving past capabilities, I am actively rebuilding new ones. We don't always know what's happening behind the scenes of our hardest seasons, but we are capable of far more strength than we give ourselves credit for.

God Works in the Dark: What Movies Get Wrong About the Red Sea

We’ve all seen the Hollywood movie versions of the Red Sea crossing. Moses lifts his staff, the ocean suddenly splits in two with dramatic thunder, and the Israelites immediately march across on dry ground. It’s instant, spectacular, and cinematic.

But when you read the account in Exodus, the reality is far more profound. It wasn’t an instantaneous event. It was an all-night process—one that teaches us how God works behind the scenes long before we can see the path ahead.

Protection Before the Pathway

Exodus 14:19–20 "And the angel of God, which went before the camp of Israel, removed and went behind them; and the pillar of the cloud went from before their face, and stood behind them: And it came between the camp of the Egyptians and the camp of Israel; and it was a cloud and darkness to them, but it gave light by night to these: so that the one came not near the other all the night."

Before God opened a door in front of the Israelites, He put a shield behind them.

The Egyptian army was pursuing them, but God moved His presence—the Angel of God and the pillar of cloud—from leading the front to blocking the rear. All night long, that divine barrier kept the enemy at bay. Before the Israelites ever saw a way forward through the water, God had already secured them from behind. The miracle began not with an open sea, but with quiet protection while they waited.

God Works in the Dark

Exodus 14:21 "And Moses stretched out his hand over the sea; and the Lord caused the sea to go back by a strong east wind all that night, and made the sea dry land, and the waters were divided."

Notice those three words: "all that night."

The sea didn't part in a split second. All through the pitch-black hours, while the Israelites were trapped between an enemy and an ocean, God was blowing a strong east wind.

To the people waiting in the dark, it might have felt like hours of uncertainty and wind howling in the night. But behind the scenes, God was continuously moving millions of gallons of water and drying muddy ground so it would be firm enough for millions of feet to walk on by morning. Just because you can’t see the path yet doesn’t mean God isn't actively preparing it. He works hours before the outcome is visible.

"Stand Still" is an Act of Faith

Exodus 14:13–14 "And Moses said unto the people, Fear ye not, stand still, and see the salvation of the Lord, which he will shew to you to day... The Lord shall fight for you, and ye shall hold your peace."

When Moses told the people to "stand still," it wasn't a call to passivity; it was a call to deep, disciplined trust.

Standing still in the middle of the night, knowing an army is behind you and a sea is in front of you, requires active faith. God asked them to hold their peace and trust His quiet labor in the dark. By the time morning appeared, the wind had done its work, the ground was dry, and the miracle was ready for them to step into.

The Small Victories and the "Buried Treasure"

This realization about the Red Sea resonated deeply with me because of how it mirrors my own journey.

It is so easy to fall into the trap of only celebrating the "instant" split-sea moments—the massive, overnight breakthroughs. But God’s work, both in scripture and in our personal lives, often unfolds in those quiet, all-night hours. The small, seemingly insignificant shifts are actually the strong winds drying the ground beneath our feet.

That is why I choose to notice and celebrate all things—even the things that might seem tiny to someone else.

Recently, while walking through the grocery store, I noticed my shoe was untied. For a long time, dealing with an untied shoelace meant I had to stop and find somewhere to sit down just to handle it. But this time, without even thinking, I was able to simply bend over, tie my shoe, and keep going.

To an outsider, tying a shoelace in an aisle is completely ordinary. But to me? It was a milestone. It was evidence of strength, balance, and progress that had been building quietly over time.

If we don't pay attention, we can easily dismiss these small wins as "no big deal." But small changes snowball. Every tiny victory is proof that the wind is blowing, the ground is drying, and progress is being made.

Digging for the Good

It’s often far too easy to spot the negative and the critical in ourselves. The flaws and the long road ahead tend to jump right out at us. While I consider myself a realist who knows there is still plenty of work ahead, I choose to be an optimist.

We have to intentionally look for the good.

Sometimes the good isn't standing on a mountaintop screaming to be seen. Sometimes the good is like buried treasure—you have to dig deep for it. But when you start looking for those hidden treasures in your daily life, you realize that God is always working hours before the results are obvious, moving things behind the scenes, and carrying you forward one small, significant step at a time.

If you're in a season of quiet processing, grieving past capacity, or rebuilding your footing—know that your journey matters, even when it doesn't feel "newsworthy."

Have you ever experienced a quiet moment where you realized you were stronger than you thought? I’d love to read your thoughts in the comments below.

 Be encouraged. 🧡

Unexpected Encouragement Along the Way

 It is funny how God places words of encouragement right in front of you at the exact moment you need them, even when you didn't realize you were listening for them. So often in life, we fight silent battles, put in invisible hours of work, and push through daily struggles without knowing if anyone notices. But the Lord knows when our spirits need a gentle lift, and He frequently sends the right message through the most unexpected messengers.

Scripture reminds us in Proverbs 16:24, "Pleasant words are as an honeycomb, sweet to the soul, and health to the bones." How true that is! A few well-timed words do not just brighten your disposition—they literally bring strength to your spirit and vigor to your body.

Lately, I have been staying deeply dedicated to my routine. A core part of that commitment has been my weekly one-on-one personal training sessions, specifically tailored to help improve my balance, overall strength, and coordination. Working closely with a trainer allows me to focus on movements that challenge my physical stability, forcing my muscle memory to rebuild and adapt.

Even with that steady, intentional work, living with yourself every single day makes it hard to see your own progress. Day after day, you put in the labor, but doubt can creep in. You begin to wonder if all the effort is truly paying off or if you are simply going through the motions without moving the needle forward.

Then, out of nowhere, God provided a moment of absolute clarity through a complete stranger.

A lady walked right up to me during one of my sessions. I had never spoken to her before, but she shared that she had been quietly observing me during two different training sessions, spaced just one week apart. With a warm and sincere smile, she told me that she could obviously see a noticeable improvement in my movement, my posture, and my confidence.

I was overwhelmed with gratitude. Those simple, short words were like a sweet honeycomb to my soul. They gave me the exact emotional and physical push I needed to keep propelling forward, assuring me that the work I was doing in secret was bearing fruit that others could see.

Walking in Faith and Unlooked-For Blessings

That special encounter was not the only reminder of God’s grace I received recently. Not long after, I attended an event. I made a firm decision before stepping out of the car that I was going to walk inside completely independently—without relying on my walker.

To some, walking through a doorway without an assistive device might seem like a small detail, but for me, it was a scary and daunting step to take. Adding to the nervousness was the fact that I had no idea whether I would recognize a single face in the crowded room. I was stepping into an unfamiliar environment, stripped of my physical security blanket, trusting purely in my balance and the Lord's holding hand.

As soon as I walked in, my eyes landed on a familiar face. Standing right there was a woman I had worked with 26 years ago! We had not crossed paths in over two decades, yet the connection was instant.

The words she shared with me during that reunion became a cherished gift I will hold close for a very long time. She looked at me and shared how much she has respected and looked up to my faith, my godly influence, and my steadfast stance over all these years. She spoke of how she remembered my deep love for God, my commitment to church, and the devotion shared alongside Jake. She went on to compliment my character, my strength, and my intelligence, offering heartfelt words that touched me at my very core.

In Proverbs 25:11, the Bible says, "A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver." Her words were truly apples of gold. Standing in that room, having walked in on my own two feet, I was reminded that our daily walk—how we carry ourselves, how we honor God, and how we treat others—leaves an indelible mark on people’s lives, even decades down the road.

Overcoming Fear and Dropping the Security Blanket

That lesson of stepping out in faith hit home even more during my group workout classes at the YMCA. For about a year now, I have been attending a specialized class a couple of days a week. Because of my ongoing balance challenges, I normally have a sturdy chair set up directly in front of me, weighted down with 40 pounds, for stability when needed.

For twelve months, that chair served as my steadying hand—a dependable anchor. During that hour-long workout, it was there to help me realign my stance, stabilize myself, or give me a quick boost whenever I felt my legs tiring. I suppose I had not fully realized just how much I mentally relied on that chair being there. It provided a massive psychological comfort zone—my physical safety net.

Last week, however, my instructor made a bold move: she did not set up the weighted chair in front of me.

Stepping into class for the first time without the support structure I’d relied on, I didn’t really know what to expect. I knew I was nervous—I'd been overthinking the situation and carrying that quiet anxiety around with me—but I wasn't prepared for the emotional wave that hit the moment class started.

Catching my own reflection in the mirror was the trigger. Seeing myself try to do the exercises without that safety net made a sudden wave of fear wash over me. Facing exercises without that chair meant there was nothing to catch me if I lost my balance. The more emotional and frustrated I got, the sloppier my balance and movements became. It became a feedback loop: the harder I tried to fight the feeling, the less my body cooperated, and the fear of appearing weak in front of everyone only amplified the distress.

I had to force myself to pause, take a deep breath, and calm my nervous system down just to get my body moving again. Without the chair to catch me, I had to be extremely cautious, slow, and deliberate with every movement, turn, and weight transfer. I had to focus every ounce of my mental and physical energy on my core, my footing, and my breath.

The truth is, I didn't want to step backward or fall back on old crutches, even when I couldn't execute the movements the way I felt I should be able to. Yet, as scary as it was, it forced me to face a deep-seated fear that I truly needed to overcome. The Bible tells us in 2 Timothy 1:7, "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind." Fear wanted me to demand the chair back, but my spirit wanted to push forward.

I’m sharing this because I’m just a fellow human working through the process in real time. We often want progress to look clean and effortless, but real growth is rarely pretty. Taking that step without the chair was essential. The bigger goals I have set for my life—the physical independence I am reaching for—cannot happen without taking these intermediate, uncomfortable steps first. Facing that workout without my security blanket gave me an extra surge of determination, because I don't like to fail, and I certainly don't quit. Progress isn't about perfection on day one; it's recognizing that even on the messy, frustrating days, I am better and stronger today than I was before.

Genesis Compound Bow

Reclaiming Strength and Muscle Memory

That strength and determination paid off in unexpected ways during a recent training session. In the past, I used to shoot a 40-pound compound bow, but drawing that kind of weight isn't something my body can do right now. My personal trainer and her husband surprised me with a Genesis bow to use, set to a much lighter draw weight. That day, my arm session included drawing the bow!

With extra support—staying stable against a bench with good back support—I was able to practice drawing the bow and aiming again. What stood out to me most wasn't just the target or the bow itself; it was the incredible sensation of muscle memory kicking in. The second I held it, my body instantly remembered what to do. Without having to overthink it, my stance, my posture, and my arms automatically found their alignment. It was an incredible reminder that even when our physical capacities shift, the skills, strength, and knowledge we’ve built remain inside us.

Cash and me

Looking Ahead to New Milestones

Building on this momentum, another milestone worth celebrating was getting back in the saddle and riding a horse in a round arena. Equine therapy and movement have incredible benefits for core strength, pelvic alignment, balance, and gait rhythm. The multi-dimensional movement of a horse forces your body to react and stabilize in ways that mimic human walking patterns.

While it was just a gentle start—being led around the ring rather than taking the reins myself—every journey starts with a single step. Even at a slow walk, riding engages the core and forces the body to adapt, which is going to be fantastic for building strength, improving balance, and refining my gait over time. It may have been a simple first step, but it is a meaningful step forward, and I am excited to see where it leads.

On top of this exciting milestone, I received another answer to prayer: I finally received the medical prescription (Dupixent) that I had been waiting on for over a month. I was able to take my first dose and start that journey. Medical waiting periods can test your patience, but I am trusting God’s timing and looking forward to seeing how this medication unfolds and supports my overall progress in the weeks ahead.

I'm so excited about this new season coming up!

Being the Light and Staying Steadfast

Reflecting on these encounters and victories stirred something profound inside me. It made me pause and ask myself: How often do I hold back a kind word that could lift someone else’s heavy heart?

I decided right then that I want to strive every day to be an intentional encourager. I want to speak words of praise, appreciation, and light to people whenever I observe truths worth sharing. We live in a world where criticism is frequent and genuine praise is rare. Giving someone an honest compliment or a word of hope can be the exact "pay it forward" kindness they desperately need in that precise hour. 1 Thessalonians 5:11 commands us, "Wherefore comfort yourselves together, and edify one another, even as also ye do." You never truly know whose spirit you might lift or whose weary hands you might strengthen simply by taking the time to notice them.

Galatians 6:9 encourages us with these powerful words: "And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not."

Progress in physical healing, faith, and personal growth is rarely a straight line. There are days of frustration, moments of fear, and seasons of waiting. But every single step forward—whether it is letting go of a weighted chair at the Y, walking into a room without a walker, drawing a bow, or climbing up into a horse arena—is undeniable proof that we are moving toward where God wants us to be.

I want to encourage anyone reading this today: do not give up on your journey, no matter how small your daily steps may feel. Trust the process, lean on the Lord for your strength, and never hesitate to offer a word of encouragement to someone walking beside you. You might just be the answer to a prayer they didn't even know they prayed.

 Be encouraged. 🧡

Reconnecting the Lines: intentional effort & Biblical remembrance

 As I strive to improve and rebuild my physical abilities, it can be easy to feel overwhelmed at times. There are so many areas where I see the need to gain ground, and I know that I can only focus on specific things at specific times. Everything will not happen all at once, nor will it move as fast as I would like—because nothing in my recovery ever has. That simply is not the way things work out. Real progress takes intentional thought, steady effort, and patience to make true gains, and I am more than willing to put in the hard work required.

To make those gains, I attend the gym regularly and engage in one-on-one training designed to target my specific needs. Right now, I am also about to begin incorporating a TENS electrical stimulation unit for my right arm. There are so many physical goals I am eager to reach, such as lifting weight in a steady, controlled way over my head. Currently, my right wrist struggles to maintain the correct form, and my elbow has a tendency to kick out during the movement. Identifying these exact physical habits gives me a clear starting point for where to focus my energy.

Bringing the Work Home

Progress cannot rely solely on the time I spend at the gym. I cannot slip by just working on things when I am at a scheduled session. To support this ongoing effort, I keep a small basket filled with my at-home weights and recovery tools so I can practice those daily functional skills right in my own living space.

This mindset of intentional movement carries over into everything I do throughout the day. When I walk, I am continually thinking about form—mindfully focusing on the correct way to move so that my body learns to allow proper movement to happen naturally.

Synergy in the Team: Reconnecting Broken Pathways

One of the most moving parts of this journey is seeing how people who help me in various capacities all end up on the exact same page together. Whether it is a trainer, a therapist, or a healthcare provider, having a unified team that shares the same ultimate goal is profoundly encouraging.

Together, we are all working toward the same objective: to reconnect the lines of communication in my body that have been broken down or have remained unused pathways for so long.

At times, it feels like an overwhelming amount of information to process all at once—remembering to breathe deeply, aligning this muscle, avoiding that habit, and holding form. Yet, even when it feels like a lot to hold in my mind, I want to do it all. Every single detail matters, and I know that this layered, intentional discipline will yield lasting results.

"Forget Not All His Benefits"

When the path ahead feels long or the daily discipline feels heavy, it is vital to pause and remember. This past week, my pastor preached a powerful sermon on Psalm 103, focusing on the instruction to "forget not all his benefits."

Psalm 103:2-4 "Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits: Who forgiveth all thine iniquities; who healeth all thy diseases; Who redeemeth thy life from destruction; who crowneth thee with lovingkindness and tender mercies;"

Now, those benefits are not the reason why I love God or serve Him. My love for Him comes from who He is. But oh, how amazing His benefits truly are!

When I reflect on His benefits, gratitude immediately replaces overwhelm. First and foremost, it is a miracle that I am even alive today. When I was ejected, flying through the air and landing hard enough to lose a contact lens from the impact, it is nothing short of God redeeming my life from destruction that I broke only one bone—my back—rather than sustaining multiple catastrophic fractures.

Even as I acknowledge my current physical limitations and the effort needed to rebuild strength in my right arm compared to my left, I look back on my time in Georgia in 2009 and early 2010. I remember those early days when only my left arm would respond, leaving me to navigate simple, everyday tasks with just one functional side. I recall trying to put on a jacket, line up the zipper, or push a single button through a eyelet—a task that could take up to two painstaking hours for just one button.

Remembering all of that intensive occupational therapy and where I started reminds me that unused pathways can be awakened, lines of communication can be restored, and the God who sustained me through those two-hour buttons is actively sustaining me today.

Rivers in the Desert: Provision in the Wilderness

There is a passage in Isaiah that brings such profound comfort whenever I consider the long road of recovery:

Isaiah 43:18-19 "Remember ye not the former things, neither consider the things of old. Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert."

Whenever I ponder God making a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert, my mind goes straight to the Israelites as they wandered through the wilderness for forty years. Think about that kind of daily, sustaining care: He provided manna from heaven every single morning without fail. That kind of miraculous, steady provision is a true river in the desert.

Even more amazing is what Moses reminded the people in Deuteronomy—that during those forty long years in the desert, their clothes did not wear out, nor did their feet swell, nor did their shoes wear out. I dare say there has never been a pair of daily-wear shoes in modern history that lasted forty years without wearing down to nothing! Yet God made what they had sufficient for every single step of the journey.

In recovery, it often feels like a wilderness where progress is slow and demanding. But just as He sustained their bodies, clothes, and shoes day by day in the desert, He makes my strength and resources sufficient for each day's work.

Setting Up Ebenezer Markers: Names and Memorials Matter

To stay grounded in this truth, setting up spiritual "Ebenezer" markers is essential. In the First Book of Samuel, after the Lord delivered Israel, Samuel did something intentional:

1 Samuel 7:12 "Then Samuel took a stone, and set it between Mizpeh and Shen, and called the name of it Ebenezer, saying, Hitherto hath the LORD helped us."

The word Ebenezer means "stone of help." Memorials, markers, and names matter deeply to me. They give tangible form to intangible victories.

Surviving that accident with only one broken bone is an Ebenezer in my life. The memory of overcoming those two-hour struggles with a single button in 2009 is an Ebenezer. Even my small basket of at-home weights sitting in my living room serves as a daily memorial—a physical sign that says, "Hitherto hath the LORD helped us."

Every time I look at those markers, I am reminded that the same God who brought me through the wilderness of 2009 is making a way for me today. He is reconnecting the broken pathways, providing daily strength like manna in the desert, and guiding every single step forward.

Throughout Scripture, we see moment after moment where God’s people built tangible altars to mark places of remembrance. When Noah stepped off the ark onto fresh ground, his first response was to build an altar of worship. When Jacob encountered the divine presence in a dream, he set up a pillar and named the place Bethel—the house of God.

These were not just physical piles of stones; they were dynamic markers in the landscape. They served as visible, enduring reminders meant to direct future generations back to the precise spot where God moved, healed, or delivered. They declared: God met me here.

These sacred locations remind us that praise is never out of season; worship is always in order.

That truth hits with profound weight when I reflect on the lyrics of the song I Have Been Blessed, particularly the line that speaks of having legs to walk, hands to raise, and a voice to speak.

“Arms that will raise, a voice that can talk
Hands that can touch, legs that can walk
Ears that can listen, eyes that can see
I've got to praise Him as long as I breathe
I have been blessed”

When you have walked through a season where those basic functions were stripped away—when there was a time you simply could not—those words cease to be just lyrics. They become a personal altar. The sheer gratitude and emotion that well up during that verse stem from knowing the magnitude of the miracle performed in my life. Standing on the other side of that struggle, I never want to miss an opportunity to build my own altar of praise, ensuring I never fail to give Him the worship He is due.

 Be encouraged. 🧡

                                        👂Listen to 🎵"He Sees What We Don't"

Words That Move Heaven

Have you ever scrolled through social media after a friend or family member posts about a season of deep trial? Perhaps they are facing a terrifying medical diagnosis, navigating the sudden loss of a loved one, or watching a life long dream crumble before their eyes. If you glance at the comment section beneath those heartbreaking posts, you will inevitably see a sea of well-meaning phrases: "Sending good vibes," "Sending positive thoughts your way," "Crossing my fingers for you," or "Hoping karma works it out in the end."

On the surface, these sentiments are born out of a desire to show empathy and comfort. People want to offer a gentle word when they do not know what else to say. But for the Christian believer, this cultural trend raises a critical question: What do these words actually mean? More importantly, what do they fail to do?

When we pull back the curtain on modern terminology, we discover that "good vibes" and "positive energy" are completely incapable of changing a single circumstance in human history. Secular concepts like karma, cosmic balance, or mother nature miss the mark of biblical truth entirely. As we draw closer to the Lord and deepen our walk with Him, our spiritual discernment grows. Naturally, as our hearts align with God’s heart, the very way we speak to others must begin to reflect the kingdom of God.

(Listen to the full audio podcast episode below or read on to explore what God’s Word teaches us about the supernatural power of true intercessory prayer. Episode 15)

Why Language Matters in Our Daily Conversations

Whenever I comment on a friend’s social media post or sit down with someone facing a dark valley, I have become incredibly deliberate with my words. I make it a conscious, intentional point to state clearly: "I am praying for you."

Now, of course I am thinking about them. My heart breaks for their pain, and I care deeply about the outcome of their situation. But I never want my message to be misconstrued or lost in the noise of worldly sentiments. I refuse to tell them I am "sending positive energy" or "crossing my fingers."

Why? Because you cannot wish things into existence with a good vibe. Crossing your fingers carries absolutely zero power to heal a body, restore a marriage, or calm a troubled mind. Hope is not found in a temporary mood, an emotional frequency, or a vague secular feeling. Hope is found in a Person—and His name is Jesus Christ.

When I tell someone I am praying for them, I want them to know that I am actively taking their exact, heavy burden directly to the Creator of the universe. I am entering the spiritual battle on their behalf, approaching the throne of grace, and asking the Sovereign God to intervene. That is what makes a real, eternal difference in a broken world.

Unpacking the Root: Vibes vs. The Sovereign Creator

To understand why these secular phrases are incompatible with Christian theology, we have to look at where they come from. Words are not neutral; they carry worldviews and spiritual foundations. When we look closely at the origins of modern phrases, we see why they stand in direct opposition to the Bible:

• "Good Vibes" and "Positive Energy": These terms come out of modern New Age movement philosophy and humanism. They rely on the idea that humans possess an innate energy field and that if we simply concentrate hard enough or emit enough "good waves," the universe will align with our desires. It makes human effort and human emotion the ultimate source of power.

 

·        "Karma" vs. Biblical Reaping and Sowing: People often confuse karma with the principle of reaping and sowing, but they come from entirely different foundations. Reaping what you sow isn’t karma—it’s biblical. Karma teaches that an impersonal, cold universe automatically balances good and bad deeds through fate or reincarnation, leaving no room for grace, mercy, or forgiveness. In contrast, Galatians 6:7–8 shows us a personal, righteous God: "Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." Biblical sowing and reaping operates under the sovereignty of God, who offers redemption through Jesus Christ, breaking the ultimate curse of sin—something karma could never do.

 

• "Mother Nature": This term personifies the natural world, giving creation the credit for God’s design, weather, seasonal shifts, and earth's stability. It subtly redirects worship away from the Creator and bestows it upon the created order itself.

None of these three popular mindsets are biblical. They all share one fundamental, fatal error: they attempt to find comfort, power, outcome, and cause-and-effect without God. They attempt to bypass human sin, spiritual brokenness, and our absolute dependency on the Lord by substituting a self-reliant, worldly alternative.

What the Bible Says: Sound Doctrine

When life shatters and human strength gives out, "positive thinking" quickly reveals its emptiness. God’s Word paints a completely different picture of reality—one where human helpless weakness meets divine omnipotence.

1. Divine Power in Human Weakness

2 Corinthians 12:10 "Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong."

The Apostle Paul did not attempt to summon positive thoughts from within himself when facing severe suffering. He did not ask believers to "send good vibes" to sustain him in prison. Instead, he acknowledged his utter helplessness so that the power of Christ could rest upon him. True spiritual strength is not manufactured through human optimism; it is revealed when we surrender our weakness to an Almighty God in prayer.

2. The Danger of Trusting Human Effort

Jeremiah 17:5, 7 "Thus saith the Lord; Cursed be the man that trusteth in man, and maketh flesh his arm, and whose heart departeth from the Lord... Blessed is the man that trusteth in the Lord, and whose hope the Lord is."

When we offer someone "good vibes," we are subtly encouraging them to put their trust in human goodwill—we are "making flesh our arm." But Scripture warns that relying on human capacity leads to spiritual bankruptcy. When we pray for someone, we are pointing them away from human weakness and anchoring their hope securely in the Lord.

3. The Power and Weight of Our Words

Proverbs 18:21 "Death and life are in the power of the tongue: and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof."

Our words carry genuine spiritual weight. As followers of Jesus, our everyday speech ought to reflect the authority, truth, and holiness of the God we serve. When we adopt the world's secular idioms, we dilute our witness and miss an opportunity to point hurting souls to the living Lord.

Putting Faith Into Action: How to Change Our Speech

Surrendering secular speech patterns is a natural outcome of growing closer to the Lord. As our love for God grows, our spiritual language should become refined, bold, and distinct. Here are three practical steps to align your daily conversations with biblical truth:

1. Examine Your Vocabulary Intentionally: Pay close attention to how you naturally respond when someone shares bad news. Watch for times when you might be tempted to use empty, worldly catchphrases just to fit in or keep things comfortable.
2. Be Unashamedly Explicit in Your Faith: Do not hesitate or apologize for using the word pray. Let your friends, family, and online connections know that you are not offering vague, passive thoughts—you are taking their names directly before the God of heaven.
3. Turn Words into Immediate Intercession: When you type "I am praying for you" under a post or say it in conversation, don't let it stop as a nice sentiment. Pause right then, close your eyes, and speak that person's name to the Lord. Turn your promise into immediate action.

Moving Beyond the Surface

The world is hungry for genuine hope, but it often settles for cheap substitutes because it does not know the Father. As Christians, we have been given direct access to the Sovereign King through the blood of Jesus Christ. We do not have to
rely on "luck," "energy," or "vibes" when we possess the incredible privilege of prayer. Let us resolve today to toss aside empty phrases, stand bold in our faith, and speak words that move heaven!

 Be encouraged. 🧡

Preparing the Way: finding purpose and patience in the process

There are moments on a health journey where the path ahead suddenly comes into focus. It isn’t always the quick, easy answer we might hope for, but it is a path—and having a clear plan of action is something to be profoundly grateful for.

After my recent follow-up GI appointment, I walked away with both a definitive diagnosis and a structured strategy moving forward. As I’ve sat with the news, digested the timelines, and contemplated what this all means, I’m reminded that healing is rarely a single, sudden event. More often, it’s a deliberate process of clearing the ground, building a sturdy foundation, and preparing the way for whatever comes next. Foundations are super important, a physical but Biblical truth.

Isaiah 40:3  “The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.”

The Findings and the 8-Week Plan

During my appointment, my doctor laid out the findings from my recent testing, specifically surrounding Eosinophilic Esophagitis (EoE)—an inflammatory condition where an overabundance of white blood cells builds up within the esophageal tissue.

A condition I didn’t know I had a few weeks ago.

To tackle this issue directly, we are embarking on an eight-week medical trial starting as soon as insurance approves this medication (hopefully). The regimen involves a combination of targeted therapies: a twice-daily prescription-strength PPI to suppress acid production and minimize tissue irritation, basically like Prilosec, alongside Dupixent, a biologic medication administered as a weekly self-injection (shot).

At the conclusion of these eight weeks, I will undergo a repeat endoscopy. The goal of this second procedure is straightforward yet critical: we need to re-biopsy the tissue to evaluate whether the white blood cell count has dropped and verify that the severe inflammation has subsided.

Being a Realist: Looking Beyond the Inflammation

While I am fully committed to executing this eight-week plan, I want to remain grounded and honest about where things stand. Looking at the broader clinical picture alongside my day-to-day symptoms, I don’t view this endeavor through rose-colored glasses, nor am I falling into pessimism. I am simply approaching the reality of the situation with clear eyes.

Even when this treatment successfully calms the widespread inflammation throughout my esophagus—as we pray and expect it will—I anticipate that the underlying dysfunction with my Upper Esophageal Sphincter (UES) will ultimately prove to be nerve-related. When normal sensation is absent and the muscle fails to relax properly, it points toward an interruption in the neuro-muscular communication pathway between the brain and the digestive tract.

If that proves to be the case, it simply means we will eventually need to chart a new course to bridge that specific gap. Recognizing that reality isn't a defeat; it’s merely reading the map accurately so we know precisely which direction to walk next. Plainly, if calming tissue does not allow the UES muscle the proper muscular function, the culprit is an absent adequate nerve path.

Proverbs 3:5–6  “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.”

Addressing the Root: Why the Esophagus Must Come First

It is easy to look at a complex, multi-step medical trial and wonder, "Why do we have to complete this entire phase first if a nerve or sphincter muscle might be the ultimate culprit?"

The answer lies entirely in foundational preparation.

Whether we ultimately discover that the issue with the UES stems purely from a nerve pathway breakdown, or whether calming this environmental irritation is the key that enables the sphincter to resume functioning on its own, the complete esophageal inflammation must be tackled either way. Without addressing the raw, compromised tissue first, it remains a severe, impenetrable roadblock. Even if the UES were to regain perfect mechanical function tomorrow, severe inflammation in the surrounding tissue would still leave swallowing exceptionally difficult—if not impossible.

Trying to repair or retrain a delicate nerve-muscle connection in an environment crowded with inflammatory cells is like trying to build a permanent structure on shifting sand. By taking these eight weeks to settle the tissue now, we eliminate an obstacle that would have halted our progress later down the road. We are clearing away the noise so that when we address nerve and muscle function, we are operating from a stable, healthy baseline.

God is in the Details: The Purpose of Preservation

There is a well-known saying that "the devil is in the details," usually framed as a warning about hidden pitfalls or perfectionist traps. But looking at things through a deeper lens of purpose, I cannot help but turn the phrase around: Au contraire, God is in the details.

These specifics are not trivial facts or minor logistics—they are the exact details He sees, knows, and actively orchestrates. Addressing and documenting this health program for my EoE isn't simply about managing immediate outcomes, tracking diagnostic numbers, or anxiously waiting to see how every test turns out. It is about preservation—preserving the full truth of this journey, honoring the time spent in the waiting, and establishing an authentic record of what it takes to navigate a path like this.

This process of working through every piece and setting the record straight needs to happen either way. Whether a specific medication brings the exact result I hope for or leads us down a secondary diagnostic path, the integrity of the process matters. When you trust the timing and the broader purpose, getting the details right transforms from an act of anxiety into an act of spiritual alignment. It ensures that when things fall into place at the right time, they stand on firm ground.

Preparing the Way for the Table

The ultimate goal of this entire journey has never changed: preparing the way to eat by mouth again.

Every injection, every daily dose, every detailed record, and every medical procedure serves as a deliberate stepping stone toward that destination. While processing all of this information requires significant time and emotional energy, I take profound comfort in knowing that no step is wasted. God works through the orderly, step-by-step details of our lives just as powerfully as He does through sudden, dramatic breakthroughs.

We are taking this one week at a time, trusting the process, and laying an unshakable foundation for complete restoration.

Jeremiah 29:11“‘For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.’”

Beyond Swallowing: Hard Work, Sweat, and Whole-Body Stewardship

At the exact same time I am endeavoring to accomplish these goals for my swallowing and working through oral coordination exercises, I am also refining skills for my broader physical needs. A major focus of mine right now is on my mobility and walking—specifically concentrating on bending my knee properly to create a movement pattern that is graceful, smooth, and natural, rather than stiff and rigid.

Rebuilding movement involves many moving parts, but I am certainly not afraid of hard work, sweat, or physical fatigue. That is what true recovery demands, and it is something I have stepped up to do many times over. In fact, there is an immense sense of satisfaction in feeling strong, feeling that good physical soreness, and knowing that every effort has a clear, intentional purpose behind it.

Sometimes recovery means facing a physical challenge or a piece of exercise equipment that initially feels intimidating, scary, or downright impossible. But I always believe in stepping up to try anyway. The old saying claims that "practice makes perfect," but for me, practice is about persistent progress. If I cannot perform a movement perfectly today, I can build strength to do a little more tomorrow. I’ve even recently pushed past my own initial hesitation and learned to use gym machines that used to intimidate me. Every single session lays another brick in the foundation of my physical independence.

Call it a bit crazy or unusual, but I even went to my very first massage therapy session recently, focusing heavily on cranial and lymphatic work. I am learning to be deeply mindful of my whole body—recognizing how God designed every system to work in harmony, support itself, and communicate across nerve and tissue pathways. In this arena, I am committed to dotting every i and crossing every t, doing everything within my power to honor and care for the body I've been given as it heals.

Expected Opposition

When you make a firm decision to grow, change, or pursue a meaningful goal, don't be surprised when resistance immediately shows up at your door.

The enemy recognizes when you've drawn a line in the sand. Often, that opposition doesn't come as a giant, obvious threat—it comes disguised through everyday situations, sudden obstacles, or even people close to us who have no idea they are being used to derail your progress.

These moments are specifically designed to press on existing insecurities, amplify doubt, and make quitting feel like the easiest option. But when you recognize the pattern for what it is, the dynamic changes. Instead of letting the hurt shut you down, you can choose to reframe it. What was intended to cause discouragement can become the exact fuel that pushes you forward. Let every attempt to make you shrink become the reason you step up, meet your goal, and rise above it.

 Be encouraged. 🧡

 

​When Prayers Are Kept in Gold (Part 2): Ordered Steps, Surrender, and the Unknown Future ​

In my last post, I shared how the imagery in Revelation—prayers kept in golden vials, precious and never forgotten—helped me process my diagnosis of Eosinophilic Esophagitis (EOE). Receiving that answer on the exact 17th anniversary milestone of my motorcycle accident was a profound reminder that God’s timing is intentional.

​In ancient times and biblical symbolism, gold represents absolute purity and supreme value. God does not treat our petitions as passing, disposable words. He doesn't let them vanish into nothingness. Instead, He preserves them in Heaven like precious treasures.

​Then in Revelation 8:3–4, an angel stands at the golden altar with a censer, and the smoke of that incense—carrying every prayer, every whisper, and every quiet tear—ascends directly before the throne of God. Your words reach the very center of divine authority.

​When Fire Falls: Divine Timing

​Notice what happens next in Revelation 8:5. After the prayers accumulate and the incense rises, the angel takes that same censer, fills it with fire from the altar, and hurls it onto the earth—bringing thunder, lightning, and decisive movement.

​The very vessel that held the quiet, burning prayers of God's people becomes the vessel that carries His power back down to earth.

​This shows us something profound about unanswered prayer: a delay is not indifference—it is preparation.

​God does not operate on a microwave timer. He accumulates our prayers until the precise moment His divine will, timing, and purpose intersect. The vial is filling. When the golden censer is finally poured out, the response carries the full weight of Heaven.

​Looking back on 17 years of prayers that felt unanswered in the moment, I realize now that not a single one was lost in transit. Every prayer offered during those long years was sitting safely in pure gold right at the throne of God, waiting for the right time.

I’ve learned to be content with my circumstances. I have told God that I’d rather enter Heaven like I am than be whole and go to Hell.

​But as I’ve sat with this revelation over the past few days, the Lord has been showing me that the timeline goes even deeper than I initially realized.

​Looking back, I can see a trail of ordered steps. Every closed door, every decision, every person placed in my path was quietly lining up to bring me to this exact moment.

​The Doors That Had to Close: Stepping Away from Teaching

​When you’re in the middle of a life transition, it’s rarely easy. One of the biggest shifts for me was the bittersweet decision to end my time in teaching.

​At the time, walking away from that chapter felt heavy. I knew in my spirit that the Lord was closing that door so He could open new ones, but leaving something familiar is always a test of trust.

​What I didn't see then—what I couldn't see—was that stepping away was a necessary piece of the puzzle.

​If I had stayed on that path, I would not have had the capacity, the flexibility, or the opportunity to meet the specific people I needed to meet, or be in the right places at the right time. Every interaction and shift in my schedule over the last few years was secretly serving a purpose: positioning me to finally receive this diagnosis and the care I needed.

Proverbs 16:9 ​“A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.”  

​We often want to see the whole staircase, but God usually just shows us the next step. Looking back now, I see that even the painful transitions were acts of protection and preparation.

​Holding Hope Without Demanding Guarantees

I’ll be honest with you: sitting where I am right now is overwhelming.

​I don't know what the future holds with this diagnosis. I don't know every detail of what lies ahead on this medical journey.

​I am remaining extremely positive and hopeful—especially based on the encouraging things I’ve heard from my doctors. But there’s a delicate balance we all have to walk when facing health challenges: how do we hold onto fierce hope without building up human expectations for a specific outcome?

​Scripture tells us that “faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1).

​Faith doesn't demand a guaranteed blueprint from God; it simply chooses to trust Him with the unknown. Keeping that faith alive means choosing to believe that whatever comes, God is already in my tomorrow.

When you spent nearly two decades adapting to unresolved physical symptoms, survival mode becomes your second nature. You learn how to push through the exhaustion, downplay the pain, and adjust your daily routines just to keep moving forward. But when an answer finally comes, it brings a whole new emotional season that nobody really prepares you for—the in-between.

The in-between is that quiet space where the mystery has ended, but the healing journey is just beginning. It’s where relief and grief sit at the very same table.

On one hand, there is a profound, holy wonder in knowing that God heard every prayer and that every piece of your timeline was carefully directed. On the other hand, there is a very human weight in realizing how long you carried the heavy burden of the unknown. Allowing yourself to feel both of those things isn't a lack of faith; it’s simply being honest about the human experience.

God doesn't ask us to put on a brave face or pretend the journey hasn't been tiring. Throughout Scripture, He invites us to bring our rawest emotions right into His presence. In the middle of this in-between space, I am learning that surrender isn't a one-time event—it’s a daily decision. It means laying down my desire to control the outcome, releasing the lingering exhaustion of the past 17 years, and choosing to trust that the same God who held my prayers in gold is holding my tomorrow.

If you find yourself in your own "in-between" right now—standing between a past challenge and an unwritten future—give yourself the grace to breathe. You don't have to have every step mapped out today. You just have to hold onto the One who does.

​The Lies We Reject and the Light We Shine

​As I process all of this, two thoughts have become overwhelming, prominent truths in my spirit.

​First, the enemy loves to whisper quiet lies into our hardest seasons. He wants to tell us that we aren't capable. That we can't do it. That we have no voice, no influence, and that our story makes no difference.

​I want to remind you today: anything the enemy tells you is one big lie.

​You do have a voice. You are heard. Your story does make a difference, and what you do with your life matters deeply.

​My ultimate goal in sharing all of this—the highs, the lows, the diagnoses, and the waiting—is simply to share the goodness of God with a thankful heart. As children of God, that should be our highest calling: to live in such a way that when people look at our lives, they see something unique, different, and undeniably pointing back to Jesus.

​Doing My Part: Faith and Practical Determination

​Refusing to listen to those lies doesn't mean pretending things are easy. It means getting up every day and doing the work, trusting God to supply the strength.

​Recently, I was attending an event at a large facility with over a thousand people. Between the crowds and the long walking distances, using my walker was an absolute necessity. To be completely honest, I’ve never wanted to rely on it less than I did that week.

​While I am grateful for the help when I need it, it is my goal to keep pushing forward, making steady improvements so that one day I may not need it in those spaces. Even small, practical changes make a difference—like finding a backpack for my things so my balance isn't thrown off by carrying weight on just one side.

​I know that physical progress takes time, dedication, and God’s grace. But looking back over my life, that is exactly how I have overcome every single obstacle I’ve ever conquered. God provides the grace, but He also calls us to take the next step.

​Nothing New Under the Sun

​Our struggles may be unique in the details, but as Ecclesiastes reminds us, there is nothing new under the sun. We all carry burdens. We all fight battles—some visible, some hidden.

​My prayer is that by sharing my journey with open hands and an honest heart, you find a spark of encouragement for yours. Whatever battle you are facing today, remember that your prayers are kept in gold, your steps are ordered, your voice matters, and the God who brought you this far is faithful to see you through.

 Be encouraged. 🧡

                                Listen to this song 🎵Middle of a Miracle