God's Hand in the Details: physical & financial

There is so much in life to reflect upon, especially over the past few years since my life was forever changed in 2009 due to my motorcycle accident. Through it all, one belief has held steady: there are no coincidences. I believe everything happens for a reason.

I want to share some specific instances from my journey that illustrate this belief. Each moment has shaped my life in profound ways, and looking back, I can see how every situation—whether joyful, challenging, or unexpected—served a greater purpose.

As Proverbs 16:9 reminds us: “A man's heart deviseth his way: but the LORD directeth his steps.”

A Life-Changing Accident

When I think about July 24, 2009, the day of my accident, I reflect on how drastically life can change in an instant. At first, it was hard to make sense of what had happened. I went from being fully independent to relying on others for basic needs. However, even in the darkest moments, there were glimmers of hope and signs of purpose. The support from my family, friends, and even strangers showed me the power of community and God’s presence through others.

Psalm 46:1 declares: “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.”

Financial Challenges and Divine Provision

In the months leading up to my accident, I was facing financial challenges. I had been on several job interviews and had just been offered a position with a higher salary. Taking that job seemed like the best choice for Jake and me. At the time, I was working in a role where I had just received a small raise and a title change, but it wasn’t enough to meet the growing needs of our household. I knew that moving on would be necessary for financial stability.

When I handed in my resignation, I explained the situation to my boss, fully expecting my departure to be final. But then something unexpected happened. My boss told me she would see what she could do—and came back with a counteroffer that matched the salary I would have earned in the new position. It wasn’t just the amount of money but the timing that felt so significant. To me, this was a clear sign from God to stay where I was.

What I couldn’t have known at the time was how crucial that decision would be. After the accident, the financial situation became even more eye-opening. For one, I wasn’t fully vested in the state retirement system yet, as it required five years of employment. I had only been there for four years. But my coworkers stepped in, donating their hard earned vacation days—approximately 300 —giving me 14 paychecks. Those 14 paychecks were enough to push me to the five-year mark, making me vested and eligible to draw disability from that job.

That alone was an incredible blessing and a testament to God’s provision. But there was more.

When I spoke with my outpatient therapy insurance case manager, she asked if I knew what my deductible was. I didn’t. She explained that most patients had a $10,000 deductible. But mine? Only $600. That news floored me. It was yet another sign of God’s goodness and provision, clearing a massive financial hurdle that could have been devastating otherwise.

These moments were clear evidence of God’s goodness and care, fulfilling the promise of Philippians 4:19: “But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.”

Restoration is possible, don't remain broken

The Feeding Tube: A Different Answer to Prayer

One moment that stands out is the placement of my feeding tube. Initially, others prayed to regain my ability to swallow, but God answered in a different way. The feeding tube allowed me to heal, adapt, and eventually thrive. Over the years, it’s taught me patience, resilience, and gratitude for the innovations that sustain me.

At the time, it felt like a setback, but looking back, I see how it was part of a greater plan. My body was kept nourished, and I’ve been able to embrace life in ways I never imagined.

As Isaiah 55:8-9 says: “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.”

From a Wheelchair to Walking Again

Another pivotal moment in my journey was transitioning from a wheelchair to walking. At first, I could barely sit upright, let alone walk. Therapy was grueling, and progress was slow. But with perseverance, the guidance of skilled therapists, and faith in God’s timing, I achieved what once seemed impossible.

Those early days in therapy taught me the importance of small victories and trusting the process. Each step—literal and metaphorical—was proof that challenges can lead to incredible breakthroughs.

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

2009 vs. 2023

A Greater Purpose

Reflecting on these moments and many others, I am more certain than ever that nothing happens by accident. Every trial, every triumph, and every unexpected twist has played a role in shaping who I am today.

God’s plan is often mysterious, but I’ve learned to trust it. The answers may not come immediately, and they may not come in the way we expect, but they do come.

Romans 8:28 reminds us: “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.”

Your Journey

I share these reflections not only to look back on my own journey but to encourage you to look at your own life. Consider the moments that felt confusing or painful at the time. With time and perspective, can you see how they might have served a greater purpose?

Trust that everything happens for a reason. Even in the midst of uncertainty, there is a plan at work—one that is far greater than we can comprehend.

Finding Purpose in Limitations

Everything has a reason and a purpose, even when it's unclear to us at the time. It’s easy to dwell on the negative, to fixate on what we’ve lost or what we can no longer do. But I’ve learned that choosing to see the positive and the potential in every situation transforms not just our outlook but also our lives.

Let me explain. I can’t run a 5K, but I can walk. I can’t eat through my mouth, but I haven’t gone hungry. I can’t physically stack wood or carry a child while I walk, but I can drive. I don’t talk as I used to, but I’m not mute.

It’s natural to grieve the things we cannot do, especially when they once came so easily. But I’ve learned to find comfort in what I can do, and I’ll admit, it isn’t always easy. And just because I can’t do something right now doesn’t mean I won’t be able to in the future.

As Ecclesiastes 3:1 beautifully reminds us: “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.”

This verse reassures me that God’s timing is perfect. While I may not see the full picture today, I trust that the things I long for and the abilities I’ve lost are part of His greater plan. By focusing on what I can do, I find hope and gratitude in every day.

Finding Comfort in Joseph’s Story

When I think about finding purpose in adversity, I often reflect on the story of Joseph in the Old Testament. I’m not comparing myself to him—he was a remarkable man of faith—but his journey brings me so much comfort.

Joseph, the beloved son of Jacob, had 11 brothers who despised him. Their jealousy drove them to plot his demise, and they ultimately sold him into slavery when he was just 17 years old. Despite being taken far from home and placed in unimaginable circumstances, Joseph’s life demonstrates God’s faithfulness in the midst of hardship.

Joseph became the head servant in his master Potiphar’s house, but his integrity led to false accusations by Potiphar’s wife, landing him in prison. He spent two years there before an extraordinary turn of events. Pharaoh needed a dream interpreted, and God gave Joseph the wisdom to interpret it.

Joseph’s interpretation foretold a famine, and his guidance on preparing for it earned him a position second only to Pharaoh himself. At 30 years old, 13 years after being sold into slavery, Joseph finally saw God’s purpose in his suffering.

What strikes me most about Joseph’s story is what he told his brothers after they reunited, as recorded in Genesis 50:20: “But as for you, ye thought evil against me; but God meant it unto good, to bring to pass, as it is this day, to save much people alive.”

Joseph’s obstacles, as painful as they were, served a greater purpose. This reminds me that even when I can’t see the full picture of why something happens, God can. His plans often involve trials, but they also lead to blessings, both for us and for others.

Like Joseph, I’ve come to trust that what may seem meant for harm can ultimately bring about good. It’s a powerful reminder that no matter how dark the path may seem, God’s purpose will prevail.

 Be encouraged. 🧡

                               Listen to the encouraging lyrics: Somebody Prayed

Holding onto Hope

This time of year often arrives wrapped in expectations—twinkling lights, perfect family gatherings, and Hallmark-worthy joy. But for many of us, the reality doesn’t quite match the picture-perfect image. My life is far from tidy, and I’ve learned to embrace the messy parts, especially during this season.

Always a baker, 2009

The holidays have always been a tough time for me, though I’ve never said that out loud until now. I think, in part, it’s because admitting it feels vulnerable, almost like I’m acknowledging something I’d rather avoid. But as I’ve been sharing pieces of my story and faith in these posts, I’ve realized that facing these thoughts head-on might bring healing—not just for me, but for others who feel the same way.

Embracing the Messy Parts of Life

I don’t want to come off as a "Debbie Downer" by sharing these thoughts, but lately, I feel the need to be honest about something that’s been on my heart. On the outside, I might seem positive and optimistic, and for the most part, I try to maintain that mindset. But I’ve come to realize something recently—life is messy. And sometimes, I need to share that with you.

We often feel the pressure to present ourselves as put-together, neat, and orderly. We want to appear strong, capable, and confident, but there are moments when it just doesn’t feel that way. The truth is, life doesn't always go according to plan. Sometimes we face struggles, frustration, and uncertainty—and it’s okay to admit that.

Crushing Oreos for Truffles, 2024

For so long, I've kept these raw, vulnerable feelings to myself. But there’s something incredibly freeing about acknowledging that not every moment in life is perfect or easy. Behind the smile or the "I'm doing fine" response, there may be a quiet storm of emotions and internal struggles that go unspoken.  I think it's important to share that, to let people see that sometimes life feels messy, even for those who might seem to have it all together.

And here's the thing: it's okay to be messy. It's okay to admit that you're not always okay. It doesn’t make you weak or less-than—it makes you human. It’s in these moments of vulnerability that we experience true growth and connection. It’s where we learn that we don’t have to walk through this journey alone, and that it’s okay to ask for help or lean on others when we need it. I’ll be the first to admit, I don’t like showing those parts of me at all.

I want to embrace the messy parts of life—because it’s in those messy moments that we find the real, raw truth about ourselves. And I want to share that truth with you, so you can know that if you’re feeling that way too, you're not alone. We all have our moments. We all have our battles. And sometimes, life is simply messy.

I want to be real with you, just as much as I want to be strong. Both sides are important parts of my journey, and I want to honor them equally. So here’s me, sharing the messy parts of my life with you. Thank you for letting me do that.

The Ache of Loneliness

For me, the struggle isn’t about a lack of invitations or people who care. I’ve been blessed with friends and family who try to include me, and I’m grateful. But there’s still a loneliness that comes with this season, especially when I look at my life and see what’s missing.

"I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you." (John 14:18)

I’m not married. I don’t have children. And while I love seeing the joy of the season in others’ lives, I can’t help but feel like an outsider sometimes—like the fifth wheel at gatherings. It’s not that anyone makes me feel this way intentionally; it’s just how the absence of certain things in my life feels magnified during this time.

One thing I miss in particular is that big, tight bear hug—the kind that wraps you in love and protection, where for just a moment, all your worries melt away, and you know, deep down, that everything is going to be all right. While life may look different now, I’m still so grateful for the people and moments that remind me I’m not walking this journey alone.

Cinnamon Sugar Banana Bread Donut Holes; Pecan Pie Bars; Oreo Truffles 

Finding Peace in the Quiet

To cope, I try to keep myself busy with things that bring me joy or purpose. Maybe I should bake more, as it’s something that centers me. There’s something grounding about creating something with my hands, especially during the holidays, when the act of giving—even if it’s just cookies or a pie—reminds me of the joy in blessing others.

"And let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to the which also ye are called in one body; and be ye thankful." (Colossians 3:15)

But even in the busy moments, the ache is still there. And that’s where my faith steps in. I remind myself that God is with me in the quiet, in the longing, and in the waiting. He sees the tears I don’t cry and the prayers I don’t say out loud. He knows the desires of my heart, and even when those desires feel unfulfilled, He’s still good.

Encouragement for the Season

If you feel the same way during the holidays—lonely, missing someone or something, or just longing for more—I want you to know that you’re not alone. It’s okay to feel what you feel. And it’s okay to create space for both the grief and the joy this season might bring.

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

Maybe together we can find ways to make this season meaningful, even in the quiet moments. Maybe it’s baking. Maybe it’s volunteering. Maybe it’s sitting with God and letting Him remind us that we’re seen and loved, exactly as we are.

The True Meaning of "Christmas"

As a Christian, Christmas is not just a festive holiday—it’s a sacred time to honor the birth of our Savior, Jesus Christ. While the Bible does not specify the exact date of His birth or mention "Christmas" as a holiday, it does recount the profound truth of His arrival into the world. This truth is enough for me because I believe in the infallibility of God’s Word.

Unfortunately, much of the holiday has been commercialized, shifting the focus to materialism and distractions. While these traditions may surround us, I choose to center my heart on the deeper truth: celebrating the gift of God’s Son, sent to save us from our sins.

"And she shall bring forth a son, and thou shalt call his name JESUS: for he shall save his people from their sins." (Matthew 1:21)

This miracle isn’t tied to December 25th or any earthly customs—it’s the timeless truth that God so loved the world, He gave His only Son (John 3:16). The Savior had to be born to fulfill God’s divine plan. His birth was the promise of redemption, a light piercing the darkness of this world. Without His birth, there could be no death on the cross, no resurrection, and no salvation for humanity. Salvation is the message of hope.

"For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord." (Luke 2:11)

Finding Comfort in the Word

When feelings of loneliness weigh on me, I find myself turning to the Word of God. It’s not always the same passage, but simply reading scripture and talking to Him provides a grounding I can’t find anywhere else. In those quiet, tear-filled moments, I am reminded that I am not alone—God is near, even when my heart feels otherwise.

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

What comforts me most is knowing that Jesus, our Savior, experienced loneliness too. I think of Him on the cross, bearing the sins of the world, and how He cried out, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46). In that moment, He felt the weight of separation so we would never have to. That understanding reminds me that He knows my heartache and empathizes with my struggles in ways no one else can.

Whenever I feel distraught and isolated, the knowledge that Jesus willingly endured loneliness and suffering to redeem us reassures me. It’s in those moments of prayer and scripture reading that I feel His presence most deeply. It’s as if He whispers, “I understand. I’m with you. You are never truly alone.”

Making Scripture Personal

One practice that has brought me immense comfort is personalizing scripture, especially passages of prayer. When I come across a verse where God’s promises or blessings are directed to "you" or "me," I replace those pronouns with my own name. This small act transforms the Word into a deeply personal reminder that God’s love and plans are specifically for me.

One passage that I often turn to is Paul’s prayer in Ephesians 3:14–21. Here’s how I might read it, inserting my name:

“For this cause I bow my knees unto the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, Of whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named, That He would grant Felicia, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with might by His Spirit in the inner man; that Christ may dwell in Felicia’s heart by faith; that Felicia, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all saints what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height; and to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, that Felicia might be filled with all the fulness of God. Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us, Unto him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus throughout all ages, world without end. Amen.”

Reading this prayer with my name reminds me that God’s promises are for me personally. It’s as if He is speaking directly into my heart, reassuring me of His strength, presence, and unfathomable love.

This practice has been a source of great encouragement during the holidays, especially in moments of loneliness. Personalizing scripture allows me to feel God’s nearness in a tangible way and strengthens my connection with Him. It reminds me that He sees me, knows my struggles, and is actively working in my life, even when I can’t see it.

Be encouraged. 🧡

Adventure Awaits: the art of travel planning

Traveling is often about adventure, spontaneity, and discovering new places—but for me, it’s a carefully planned operation. Living with a feeding tube means my travel checklist is a bit different, but that hasn’t stopped me from packing up and heading out. Whether visiting Amish country in Pennsylvania or marveling at the Grand Canyon, each trip brings challenges, plenty of laughs, and proof of God’s unwavering faithfulness.

“The LORD shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.” (Psalm 121:8)

The Art of Packing

When you rely on a feeding tube for nutrition, packing food isn’t as simple as tossing snacks into a bag.

When preparing for an upcoming trip—be it a weekend getaway, a camping adventure, or an extended two-week or month-long expedition—careful planning is vital. For me, the first step is always gathering food and supplies to ensure I have everything needed for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the duration of my trip.

Because my nutrition intake is specific, I stick to a standard daily routine, with adjustments depending on whether I’ve attended the gym that day. After workouts, I replenish calories with protein powder, as my goal is to maintain my weight rather than lose it. To make this happen, I calculate exactly how many food pouches I need and ensure I pack all the necessary items, including some unique supplies. (reading this post may help your understanding My Daily Bread - what not swallowing means) 

Each month, I receive a 30-day food supply, containing 186 pouches. My meals come in nine-ounce pouches, each packed into sturdy cardboard boxes—12 pouches per box. These pouches, combined with my supplements and other supplies, are my lifeline. They are the foundation of my meals, and when packing for a trip, I carefully count out the correct number to take along. In addition to these pouches other daily food items are protein powder, Ensures, high-protein shakes, and 8 oz. bottled waters (to thin the pouch meals for easier flowing ability). I also include:

Styrofoam cups and paper towels: Essential for depositing saliva (approximately 8-10 per day, due to not swallowing).

30-day supply of Real Food Blends pouches

Syringes and extensions: Additional items provided in my monthly food order to ensure I have an adequate supply of equipment to administer my meals.

Pill crusher: As I can’t swallow pills, this tool is indispensable for crushing medications into a fine powder to mix with liquid for easy administration through my feeding tube.

Vitamins and medications: I only take vitamins unless I’m sick, in which case I’ll pack any additional medications, such as cough medicine, that need to be crushed.

Saliva control patches: My only prescription item (beside my pouch food), these patches last three days each, so I calculate how many I’ll need for the trip and include extras just in case.

After my accident, I initially lost 20 pounds due to reduced activity and muscle use. Regaining that weight has been a long process. Over several years, I successfully gained back 10 pounds, but the final 10 took significantly longer. I had to carefully plan my meals to ensure I was consuming more calories than I burned to gradually gain the last ten back. Finding high-calorie, nutrient-dense liquid foods that worked for me was a challenge. Eventually, I found the right balance, and I’m thrilled to have recently reached my goal.

For this reason I am extra conscience about my intake.

Protein: I aim for at least one gram of protein per pound of body weight to support my recovery and strength.

Calories: Maintaining my weight requires between 2,100 and 2,500 calories per day, depending upon my gym routine. Achieving this balance hasn’t been easy, especially given the limitations of what my stomach can handle at one time. (Thirty-two ounces of liquid in one sitting is a lot).

First Go-Cart Drive, Destin, FL, 2014

The Switch to Real Food

However, the journey hasn’t been without setbacks. I used a popular synthetic formula for years. Then suddenly I found out it was on indefinite backorder, which forced me to adjust and adapt once again. Without those calorie-dense liquid meals, I struggled to find adequate food from the local grocery store, as my monthly food supply is prescription. This lack of provisions caused me to lose 7 pounds in just 7 days. I quickly found out about another option, Real Food Blends. I got my doctors to communicate this change to the supply company so I could resume my prescription nutritional need transitioning from synthetic formulas to real food blends.  The switch to real food blends made a world of difference. These meals are not only better tolerated by my stomach but also more nutritious and closer to the way I used to eat. I’ve learned that resilience and faith go hand in hand when dealing with these unexpected challenges.

Packing with Precision

This process might sound detailed, but it’s second nature for me now. By starting with food and essentials, I can ensure a smooth travel experience, focusing on the adventure ahead rather than worrying about nutrition or health-related challenges. With the right preparation, even extended journeys become manageable and enjoyable.

Travel Challenges and Embracing Adaptability

God has helped this aspect of my “new” me not to hinder me from living. Traveling with all my extra supplies—beyond normal luggage—can sometimes bring anxiety. The sheer volume of food, equipment, and essentials I need takes up significant space, and I always require help loading and unloading the car at destinations. If a trip involves multiple stops, I try to pack strategically so I don’t have to unpack everything at every stop unless absolutely necessary. While this adds an extra layer of complexity, I’ve never let it stop me from traveling. I’m incredibly grateful for the help extended by others to make these trips possible. A positive note is I return home with less baggage because I eat a lot of it!

Space in the vehicle is always at a premium, especially when traveling with others. On a trip to Mount Rushmore, I traveled with my brother, his family of five, and enough luggage and food for 10 days. There wasn’t enough room for my walker or cane, but we made do.

Here’s the funny part: My mom would’ve flipped if she saw my walker left behind while I was halfway across the country, so my brother took it to his house and hid it. Problem solved!

Handling Rest Stops

Rest stops are an important part of any road trip. When traveling with others, they’re a chance to stretch and toss used cups. I have an uncanny ability to spot cup holders and trash cans! But on a solo trip I recently took, I decided to skip traditional rest stops altogether. Instead, I pulled off at nearby gas stations. They were often easier to navigate with shorter walking distances, which was helpful since my walker was buried under luggage and food. I parked close to doors, relied on my balance, and made it work.

Mount Rushmore, 2015

Overcoming Obstacles with God’s Strength

As I prepared this post, I pondered on the many memories that I have from my travel experiences.

One memory that stands out is when we reached Mount Rushmore, we discovered the wheelchair ramp was under construction. My brother insisted I join his family in climbing the 800 steps (1,600 round trip) to view the monument. It felt like an impossible task, but with my sister-in-law holding my arm, walking with me each step for balance, I did it. Slowly but surely, we climbed up and then back down. By the end, I was sweating buckets, but the accomplishment—and the view—made it all worth it.

This experience is a testament to God’s grace. “And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9)

That same determination to climb 800 steps at Mount Rushmore has fueled my passion for exploring even more of God’s awe-inspiring creations.

The Grand Canyon with my Nieces, 2021

Exploring More Places Than I Dreamed

Looking back, I’ve traveled to more places than I ever realized (32 states). Amish country in Pennsylvania was a peaceful and fascinating experience, while Charleston’s Angel Oak Tree (the winding, large branches seemed never ending) reminded me of God’s creativity and the beauty of His creation.

One of the most meaningful trips happened three years ago, when I visited the Grand Canyon, Los Angeles, the Hoover Dam, Las Vegas, the Petrified Forest, and Yosemite National Park. Seeing the Grand Canyon in person was surreal—something I’d never expected to do in my lifetime. Standing at the edge of such an awe-inspiring sight, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of reverence. Words cannot adequately express the awesomeness of the depth and width of such beauty. The giant Sequoia and El Capitan in Yosemite were amazing. The feeling upon seeing those sites rivals that of seeing the Grand Canyon. Pictures don’t do them justice. The trip felt like a gift, a reminder of God’s blessings even when we think certain dreams are beyond reach.

“Delight thyself also in the LORD; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart.” (Psalm 37:4)

Giant Sequoia, Yosemite, 2021

Driving Solo: A New Experience

While most of my travels have been with family, I recently embarked on a solo road trip (and took zero pics to document). It wasn’t extensive, but it was a new kind of freedom. Driving solo reminded me to cherish the independence I’ve gained—something I no longer take for granted. With sunglasses on, a full tank of gas, and determination, I’ve embraced this newfound freedom. Navigating on my own came with challenges, like finding accessible stops and organizing my packed car. However, I learned to adapt. Parking close to doors and skipping traditional rest stops for gas stations made things easier, especially since my walker wasn’t available.

I haven’t attempted a long solo journey yet, but I’m open to the possibility. After all, I never say never! Can’t never could, right?

Faith on the Journey

Whether traveling with family or navigating solo adventures, my faith has been my constant companion. From balancing the logistics of food and supplies to relying on family and friends for help, I’m reminded of the verse, “Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ.” (Galatians 6:2)

Every trip is a chance to see God’s provision, whether through the strength to climb 800 steps, a last-minute solution to a space issue, or the humor that keeps me going.

Yosemite, 2021

Navigating New Experiences

Local drives to destinations like a doctor’s office, gym, or hair salon often come with explaining my unique needs—like why I carry a cup or move slower. While not always necessary, it helps others understand my situation without confusion or assumptions.

Hoover Dam Selfie, 2021

Choosing Gratitude Over Obstacles

Despite these challenges, I’ve learned to focus on the positives. Traveling is still an incredible opportunity to experience life, connect with others, and enjoy new surroundings. The extra preparation and effort are worth it, especially when I remind myself of the joy and growth that come with every adventure.

For anyone facing unique challenges in travel or daily life, my advice is this: Don’t let the extra baggage—literal or figurative—stop you. With planning, adaptability, and the support of kind people around you, the journey is always worth it. Thinking outside the box may be required, it is do-able. Each journey, no matter how challenging, reminds me that God’s provision is constant, and through Him, we can find joy and perseverance in every step.

Tell me where you are going.

Be encouraged. 🧡

Home Within: a journey beyond place or people

The famous quote from Thomas Wolfe, "You can’t go home again," carries a deep and complex meaning. It suggests that after experiencing significant changes in life, returning to where you once lived or what you once knew is never quite the same. After my accident, with its numerous severe injuries, and after the death of my husband, I was, in many ways, forced to "go home again." Yet, my journey has taught me that physically returning to a place is one thing; emotionally, it’s something else entirely.

When I came home, my mom provided me a room. It became my refuge when my house with Jake had been sold and I could no longer live alone. At the time, I was in a wheelchair, needing assistance with everything. Gradually, I improved—week by week, month by month, year by year. Physically, coming home again was possible. But emotionally and mentally, I was no longer the same person I had been.

Jan. 2022, off my porch at home

What is Home?

People often say, "Home is what you make it." For a long time, I struggled to fully grasp that. After my accident, the concept of home became more abstract. Over the years, as I continue to live with my mom, slowly improving, I’ve come to realize that "home" is not a stagnant concept. Home can be many things, and not just a place. It can be the life shared with family or friends, the warmth of a community, or even the peace found within oneself.

I’ve also discovered that becoming comfortable in my own skin has been a crucial part of finding home again. My body is not the same as it once was, and neither is my heart. But as my physical healing progresses, I find that the emotional healing runs deeper and slower. This emotional journey is not as visible as the physical changes, but it is equally transformative. Still, it’s this internal growth that has redefined home for me. When life changes as drastically as mine did, we can be tempted to feel displaced. But I’m learning that a part of home is finding peace in who I am now—accepting that life doesn’t have to look like it did before for it to be meaningful.

The scripture reminds me, “I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you” (John 14:18). God’s promise to be our constant through all things has provided a different kind of home for me. It may not always be tied to a place, but it is rooted in His unfailing presence.

The Contrast Between Physical and Emotional Home

While the physical location and health conditions remained familiar, emotionally, I was in a completely different place. Returning to the same childhood home where I once felt secure didn’t mean I felt the same sense of stability. Having lived apart from my family during my marriage, I had grown used to life with my spouse. Now, even though I was back in a place where I was loved and cared for, I couldn’t shake the feeling of something missing. It’s as though I still carry the void where my person should be.

I’m incredibly grateful to have the support of my family. Their inclusivity, care, and love have given me the strength to continue. But as much as I love the space I’m in, it doesn’t always bring the sense of calm I used to feel because my life has been forever altered. Home, as I once knew it, doesn’t exist anymore. What remains are the walls of my childhood, yet emotionally, I have outgrown them. Scripture reminds us that, “We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed” (2 Corinthians 4:8-9). I may be cast down, but I find peace in knowing I am not forsaken, even in the absence of what once was.

May 2022, WNC

Grief and Healing in the Search for Home

Grief has a strange way of reshaping what home feels like. When we experience loss—whether it’s the loss of a loved one, the loss of physical ability, or the loss of independence—it’s easy to feel disconnected from the world around us. I lost my spouse, my ability to live independently, and the future I had imagined. But the healing process has been just as much about redefining "home" as it has been about physical recovery.

Though I’ve made great strides in my physical health, I still feel that emotional void. The absence of Jake from my life is a reminder that no matter how familiar a place may be, it doesn’t always feel like home. I’ve come to understand that home is more than just where you lay your head—it’s where your heart feels at rest. And yet, the Lord assures us, “My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). It is in my moments of weakness that I see His strength most clearly.

Finding New Meaning in Home

Over time, I’ve had to make peace with the reality that the home I once knew, with Jake by my side, is no longer possible. But that doesn’t mean I cannot find or create a new sense of home. It’s about embracing the present and being thankful for the people who have walked this journey with me. It’s about accepting the changes within myself and the life around me. As it says, “For here have we no continuing city, but we seek one to come” (Hebrews 13:14). We may not always find the home we expect in this life, but we can take comfort in knowing we are always journeying toward a home beyond what we see.

I feel like I’m finally ready to accept myself, to embrace what "home" truly means, and to make peace with any loss or changes in relationships that might come with it. I look forward to this new chapter—or adventure, if you want to call it that—as I step forward with openness and anticipation.

Encouraging Others on Their Journey

I hope that by sharing this part of my story, others will be encouraged to reflect on their own experiences with home. Perhaps you, too, have returned to a familiar place after a significant loss or change and found that it no longer feels the same. Know that you’re not alone in this feeling. Our homes can change, just as we do, but there is always hope in knowing that God is with us in each season.

What makes home feel like home for you? Has that changed with different seasons in your life? I encourage you to take time to reflect and ask yourself where you find peace, belonging, and comfort in your journey. Whether it’s through family, friends, faith, or simply learning to be at peace within yourself, know that home is not a destination—it’s a journey.

Home, Holidays, and the Longing for Connection

As much as I cherish the memories and moments associated with Thanksgiving or Christmas, I have to admit there’s a part of me that looks forward to the day being over. It’s not that I dislike these holidays—in fact, I appreciate their deeper meanings—but the anticipation, the build-up, and the actual day often leave me feeling more ready for normalcy to return than anything else.

The holiday season has been tough for me over the years, and admitting that feels like a step back. I thought I was getting better at handling it, but some have gently reminded me that certain feelings may never completely go away. There might always be a small part of me that carries this heaviness. For a while, I wanted to forget that part—to push it aside as though it no longer mattered. But I’ve come to realize it is a part of me. It’s something I’ll carry with me as I move forward, even when I feel ready to leave it behind. And maybe that’s okay. It doesn’t mean I’m stuck; it means I’m human.

Maybe it’s because this time of year I long for a different kind of connection—one that brings a deeper sense of companionship and makes the holidays feel more complete.

Sometimes, I’ve struggled with that longing and felt guilty for wanting something more. I’ve wrestled with questions like, Shouldn’t I already feel content? Isn’t this enough? But over time, I’ve come to understand that it’s okay to yearn for a profound emotional companionship, to hope for the kind of contentment that comes with deep relationships.

It’s taken me a long time to get to this point emotionally, to talk openly about these feelings, and to come to terms with the gaps I feel and the desires I hold in my heart. This process of reflection has been a journey—one filled with moments of guilt, surrender, and ultimately, growth.

I want to embrace the beauty of that connection if it’s part of God’s plan for me, but I also recognize the need to trust His timing and purpose. This tension—between wanting what I feel I’m missing and trusting in His plans—is where I find myself now. And while it isn’t always easy, I believe there is grace in acknowledging this longing and peace in surrendering it to Him.

While holidays often stir this longing for connection, they also serve as a reminder of where my ultimate peace comes from. While I would embrace companionship if it’s part of God’s plan for me, my deepest peace comes from His unwavering presence and guidance. Trusting in God’s plans—even when they differ from my own—has become an anchor in these moments, guiding me back to His presence as the truest sense of home.

A little unorthodox work

Trusting God in Every Step

Throughout this journey of redefining home, one thing has remained constant—my trust in God. He has not failed me yet. Every time I’ve needed a new step in my recovery, He has provided the way and given me the wisdom to take it. It’s often said that, "The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord: and he delighteth in his way" (Psalm 37:23). I have seen that truth play out in my life time and time again.

As I move forward, I know that each step will only get bigger and harder, but I also know it won’t be impossible. "With men this is impossible; but with God all things are possible" (Matthew 19:26). Every challenge I’ve faced so far has been an opportunity for growth, and I trust that the same will be true for whatever lies ahead.

In the same way that God has carried me through each difficult season, I believe He will continue to provide for me. The Lord reminds us, “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” (Jeremiah 29:11). And it’s in that promise I find the strength to keep going, knowing that He will lead me through every step of the way.

Recently, I think I’ve overwhelmed myself with the thought of the next few big steps that I’ll have to take. Then I remember that God knows my heart and my desires, but it’s in these moments that I need to lay those desires aside and pray, God, help me to want what You want for me, whatever that might be. That can be a difficult prayer to pray, but it’s one rooted in trust, knowing that He made me and is fully aware of the longings of my heart. “Delight thyself also in the Lord; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart” (Psalm 37:4).

I believe He will provide what I truly need, even if it’s not what I expect, because He sees the bigger picture. "For your Father knoweth what things ye have need of, before ye ask him" (Matthew 6:8). Sometimes, surrendering our desires can be hard, but in doing so, we open ourselves to the plans He has for us—plans that may be greater than we could ever imagine. As I reflect on this, I remind myself that everything happens for a reason, and we all travel the path laid out for our lives. “A man’s heart deviseth his way: But the Lord directeth his steps” (Proverbs 16:9).

Closing the Loop

As I reflect on all this, I remind myself again of Wolfe’s words, “You can’t go home again.” It’s true that I cannot return to the life I once knew. But with God’s guidance, I’m learning to create a new home—a home rooted not in the past, but in His ever-present love and promises for the future. This is the home that will never fade, and for that, I am truly grateful.

Where's "home" for you?

 Be encouraged. 🧡

The Ultimate Goal: Home