For a long time, I thought one of the most encouraging things I could do for someone walking through a difficult season was to say, “I’ve been there.” When I had experienced something similar, I wanted to tell them what God had done for me. I wanted them to know how He had provided, how He had redeemed what seemed impossible to redeem, and how He had made a way when I could not see one. There is something powerful about hearing from someone who has walked through a similar hardship and can testify to the faithfulness of God. The stories shared with me by friends and family over the years have been deeply encouraging and tangible reminders of all that God has done.

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.