Finding Good Things in Hard Places

Life doesn’t always look the way we imagined. Sometimes the simplest joys—like a walk down the driveway or picking flowers—feel out of reach. But even in those hard places, God has a way of showing us hidden blessings. This is my journey of learning to see differently, to be honest about the struggle, and to keep finding the good things—even when life feels heavy.

Lately, I’ve been trying to find the good things. To be honest, it’s not always easy. Many times, I want to appear strong—unshaken, like I have the answers, like I know what everything means and where it’s all heading. But the truth is, I don’t always know.

More and more, I’ve caught myself thinking about all the things I see others doing—the things I can’t do. Such as active or adventurous hobbies, like biking, hiking, or playing games outside. Even simple things like walking outside down a path in the forest or a meadow without assistance to pick fresh flowers to bring inside and decorate the table. These small, everyday joys seem so effortless for others, yet for me they come with limits and barriers.

I can’t just take a leisurely walk down the driveway or down a trail. I need my walker or the assistance of someone else. Even then, my walking doesn’t look as graceful as I wish it would. That reality can feel heavy sometimes. And yes, it can feel lonely.

I hesitate to even admit that, because vulnerability often feels like an invitation for pity or sympathy—neither of which I’m asking for. What I do want, though, is to let someone else know: if you’ve ever had these thoughts and feelings, you’re not alone.

The Quiet Battle of Comparison

One of the hardest struggles for me lately has been comparison. It sneaks in quietly when I’m watching others live their lives with a freedom I don’t have. It whispers: Look at what they can do. Why can’t you?

Maybe you’ve felt that way too—not necessarily about walking or balance, but about something else. Maybe you’ve compared your family, your finances, your career, or your health. Maybe you’ve watched someone else receive the blessing you’ve been praying for. Comparison is a thief.

And yet, I remind myself that even when I cannot do certain things, there are still blessings in front of me. Even when my body doesn’t cooperate, I can still find reasons to praise the Lord.

The Bible tells us in 1 Thessalonians 5:18, “In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.” That’s not always easy, is it? Giving thanks when life feels heavy and when you’re reminded of what you’ve lost doesn’t come naturally. But it’s in those moments—those valleys of comparison and loneliness—that gratitude becomes the very thing that lifts us up.

Learning to See Differently

I’ve realized lately that sometimes the Lord calls us to see life differently. I may not be able to walk down a wooded path, but I can still enjoy the fresh breeze through an open window. I may not pick flowers from a meadow, but I can still place a vase on the table and let its colors brighten the room.

It doesn’t erase the ache of what I can’t do, but it helps me to notice what I can. Sometimes, the good things are not in the loud, obvious moments but in the small details—the gentle reminders that God’s creation is still around me, even if I engage with it differently than before.

Psalm 34:18 says, “The LORD is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.” What a comfort that is! God doesn’t stand far off when we are hurting. He draws near. When my spirit feels crushed, when loneliness creeps in, when my heart aches with comparison, the Lord is not distant—He is present.

Choosing Honesty Over Perfection

I think sometimes we feel pressure to appear strong, as if admitting our struggles is the same as admitting defeat. But it isn’t. Honesty is not weakness—it’s courage. It opens the door for someone else to say, Me too. I’ve felt that way as well.

If you are reading this and struggling with loneliness, comparison, or unmet longings, I want you to know you don’t have to hide it. God sees you. He understands what you haven’t even spoken out loud. And He cares deeply.

He tells us in Isaiah 41:10, “Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.”

When we feel like our own strength is gone, He promises to uphold us. When we feel unseen, He reminds us that He is near.

Loneliness Is Not the End of the Story

Loneliness has a way of making us feel forgotten. But I’ve been reminded that even when people don’t fully understand, God does. Even when I can’t explain my feelings, He already knows them.

King David knew loneliness. Many of the psalms are filled with his cries of feeling forsaken, surrounded by enemies, or cut off from comfort. And yet, David also sang of God’s faithfulness, declaring in Psalm 27:10, “When my father and my mother forsake me, then the LORD will take me up.”

That means even if the closest people in our lives cannot walk with us through certain valleys, God will. He is faithful in every season.

Looking for the Good

So I return to where I started: I’m trying to find the good things. Not the big, extraordinary, once-in-a-lifetime moments—but the little daily graces. A smile from a friend. The sound of laughter. A verse of Scripture that meets me right where I am. A reminder that even in the midst of longing, God’s blessings are still present.

Gratitude doesn’t always erase pain, but it shifts the way we carry it. It doesn’t deny the hard realities, but it allows us to see beyond them.

So if you’ve been struggling—whether with health, with comparison, with loneliness, or simply with the weight of life—know this: you are not alone. Your story matters. Your feelings matter. And God has not forgotten you.

Maybe we can walk this road together, choosing to be honest, choosing to be thankful, and choosing to see the good things even in hard places.

Learning New Skills and Finding Joy

As I’ve prayed and reflected, I’ve also tried to lean into new things that bring joy and purpose in this season. Another thing I’ve been thinking about doing lately is grinding my own wheat berries to make fresh flour for baking. There’s something deeply satisfying about the thought of taking something so simple—wheat—and turning it into nourishment with my own hands. It takes effort and time, but the end result is worth it: bread that is fresh, wholesome, and made with care.

In a way, I think that’s a picture of life right now. Not everything comes quickly or easily. Some things require extra steps, patience, or different tools than I expected. But just as wheat can be ground into flour and then baked into something that blesses others, my life can still be shaped and used in meaningful ways.

Jesus said in John 6:35, “I am the bread of life: he that cometh to me shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me shall never thirst.” That verse reminds me that while bread can fill the body, Christ Himself fills the soul. And in the same way, the process of baking reminds me that God is still working in me, even through the pressing and grinding seasons, to bring forth something good.

Along with this, I’ve also been spending time learning for my part-time office job. The technical aspects stretch me, but in good ways. I’m excited about what I’m learning and the chance to implement new systems that will help things run more smoothly and serve customers and colleagues better. It’s a blessing to know that even with my limitations, God still allows me to contribute in ways that matter.

Wrestling With Questions of Faith

Another area I often wrestle with is faith and healing. There are times when I wonder: if I just had more faith, could I handle my healing differently? Could I even be healed? And then, when I start down that path, I ask myself—Is my faith not big enough?

But then I step back and remember all that God has already done in my life. Physically, financially, emotionally, spiritually—He has proven Himself to me over and over again. In so many ways, I feel like my faith is enormous because I’ve seen His hand at work.

Yet still, I wrestle. I wonder if maybe the point isn’t about the size of my faith, but about what God is teaching me through the valleys. Maybe the afflictions we face are not meant to prove our weakness, but to shape our trust in Him. Maybe it’s not about my healing, or any one specific need, but about learning to glorify Him in all circumstances.

Paul spoke about this in 2 Corinthians 12:9–10, where he shared the Lord’s words: “My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.” And Paul’s response was, “Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me… for when I am weak, then am I strong.”

That truth humbles me. Healing is in God’s hands, not mine. Faith is not a measuring stick—it is trust, even when the outcome doesn’t look like what I wanted. And sometimes, the very thing I wish away might be the thing God is using to build my faith and draw me closer to Him.

So I continue to pray, to trust, and to rest in knowing that whether healing comes now, later, or in eternity, God’s grace is enough.

At the end of the day, I may still face limits and longings, but I’ve also discovered treasures I might have missed otherwise—quiet mercies, deeper faith, and the nearness of God in hard places. And that’s the good I’m holding onto. My prayer is that you, too, will find those hidden blessings right where you are.

 Be encouraged. 🧡

Without Valleys, There aren't Mountains

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

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

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

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

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

When Help Doesn’t Come

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Be encouraged. 🧡