Lately, my life has been full of ups and downs. I finally finished chapter seventeen in STILL FIGHTING FOR FREEDOM, and I had an incredible time at my church's annual youth conference. But no one stays on the mountaintop long; with everything I'm juggling and a new financial scare landing in my mailbox, I'm struggling to stay grounded in my usual positivity.
I tend to roll through things quietly, partly because I’m always moving from one thing to the next, and partly because I don’t allow myself much space for public vulnerability. The internet is a fragile place; one moment you’re everyone’s sweetheart and the next, you’re on the wrong side of a candy corn debate. So I keep my current personal life private, which can make me seem stronger than I feel. People see me as a woman of strong faith, largely healed from deep, long-term trauma, so they assume I just go from step to step without missing a beat, unshaken. The reality is so much more complex.
Like the Wizard of Oz on the big screen, I take the steps, do the things, trust in my faith and my coping skills...but behind that curtain? I’m a disabled single mom trying to figure things out, a real person with fears and vulnerabilities just like anyone. So today I’m inviting you, like Dorothy, to peek behind the curtain.
This weekend's conference focused on encouraging the youth in my church to discover their God-given purpose, starting with Moses at the burning bush. In Exodus 3, God called Moses to lead the Israelites out of slavery—a daunting task for a man who felt unworthy and unqualified. Purpose doesn’t always feel straightforward though, so we moved into Exodus 14, where Moses and the Israelites were trapped between Pharaoh’s army and the Red Sea, scared and unable to escape. The people lashed out in fear, but Moses reassured them, saying, “The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” That verse has carried meaning and a promise for me for over twenty years; I first read it as a young, terrified new mom, facing violent threats from my then-husband and fighting for a better life for my daughter. Decades later, it remains a powerful reminder of God’s protection and provision. I came home from that conference filled with hope, only to be hit with discouraging news—a letter about a financial issue that could be disastrous for my household. I know it'll get settled, but right now it's scary; I balance so many responsibilities on my own, and this felt like an unnecessary blow.
I usually hate when people say they're "triggered," but right now, I am. Stress levels skyrocketed, PTSD went haywire, and I'm wondering how I'll get through the month without the support I rely on to keep my home running. It sent me back to the pre-healed days, where fear was a constant companion. I've been post-traumatic as long as I can remember (my earliest memories are dissociated) and because of my mother, financial insecurity is always a quick "trigger" for me. I'm careful and generally responsible with money, but as a disabled person, I can’t just pick up extra work to cover gaps, and SSI limits what I’m allowed to save (when I have enough to save), which adds to the frustration. Financial security is one of the few things that really shakes me, and I’ve been through these feelings before. They usually pass...but they never get easier.
When life hits like this, I lean on faith and practicality to keep moving. Faith is my anchor—when I’m anxious, I pray, trusting God to make a way even if I can’t see it yet. I listen to worship music that reminds me of who He is, what He's promised for my life, and that I’m not as alone as I sometimes feel. Faith over fear is more than just a pretty phrase.
I also live by the concept of "the next right step." Days like today, I focus on what I can handle right now, even if that means waiting for tomorrow to tackle something I can’t solve today. This mindset drives the routines that keep me balanced; anxiety makes me forgetful, so updating my task list and staying organized are part of my survival kit, along with taking my medication, planning my day, and prioritizing rest. Another thing that helps is giving myself grace. I want to be the steady one who has it all together, but strength doesn’t mean being unaffected—it means being facing uncertainty with faith and practicality even when it’s hard. Feeling my emotions instead of brushing them off helps too, because while it isn’t easy to open up about these kinds of struggles, vulnerability has a way of connecting us.
I'm choosing to share this, not because I have all the answers, but because I know there are others who feel the same way I do and need to know they’re not alone. We're all just people “behind the curtain,” and I hope my journey reminds you that strength isn’t about never struggling; it’s about choosing to keep going. So, if you’re in a season that feels uncertain, know that you’re not alone. No matter how “strong” someone looks on the outside, we’re all doing our best to take each right step as it comes.
There’s power in not giving up. So I’m here, pulling back the curtain to remind you that real strength isn’t about having it all figured out. It’s about the courage to keep moving forward, and the will to...