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. 🧡

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