The mind is a fascinating thing. At any given moment, our brains are processing an almost incomprehensible number of signals, interpreting information from our bodies and our surroundings, anticipating what might happen next, remembering what has happened before, and trying to protect us. We often don’t even notice most of it. We touch something hot and instinctively pull away. We step awkwardly and our body responds before we have time to think. We experience pain and our brain tells us something is wrong.

Our nervous systems were designed to protect us. But what happens when the very system designed to protect you begins to misfire?

There have been many moments over the past several years when I've found myself sitting in a doctor's office, waiting for another appointment, another test result, or another conversation about what my body could no longer do.

It's strange what comes to mind in waiting rooms.

Mine often drift back to a high school anatomy classroom.

In my last post, I shared the story of Mrs. Dudley, the teacher who awakened my fascination with the remarkable complexity of the human body. At the time, I simply thought I had discovered a subject I loved. I had no idea God was quietly preparing me for a journey I never would have chosen.

That preparation extended far beyond textbooks.

What happens when the calling God has given you seems to slip away because of chronic illness? I prayed for healing. Instead, God met me with sustaining grace. This is the story of a mobility scooter, a room full of students, and the faithfulness of a Savior whose strength is made perfect in weakness.

I was recently at a women’s ministry event that was unlike any I had ever attended. It was called a Silent Retreat and, in the style of Lectio Divina, centered on the repeated reading of Scripture alongside prayer, meditation on God’s Word, and time in solitude with Jesus, followed by a gathering to share what God had revealed during those quiet moments.

If you search for vestibular disorders on WebMD, you’ll find plenty of information. However, unless you or someone close to you is among the 1% with vestibular migraines or the 0.4% with Meniere’s Disease, these conditions may be unfamiliar to you.

Despite being relatively unknown or misunderstood, vestibular disorders have a profound impact on quality of life.

Have you ever found yourself in church, listening to a sermon, and your thoughts drift away? I am sure we have all been there — writing notes to stay focused, fidgeting to calm nerves, or perhaps struggling to stay awake due to a lack of sleep. That is where I found myself on this Sunday, and adding to my distraction were thoughts of a recent discussion with my physician. I have Rheumatoid Arthritis so am no stranger to difficult medical conversations, but discussing the future need for a knee replacement at age 47 had been a shock and was weighing on my mind.

Chronic pain and illness have been part of my life for the better part of the last 30 years, but the past year has been marked by some of the most difficult challenges and I now find myself in a time of sorrow with the loss of ability and sense of community. It has come with isolation and time away from everyday tasks that have been a source of joy in the past and yet have taught me a deeper reliance on God and faith in His promises.