From Fearful Thoughts to Fierce Truths

I have this very bad habit of lying to myself.

I get caught up in my head, letting negative thoughts about my abilities, my worth, and even my appearance weave their way into my life.
“You’re not good enough or pretty enough.”
“You can’t do that.”
“They only hung out with you because you kept bothering them.”
“See? You don’t know as much as you thought.”
“They probably don’t even want to be around you.”
“Don’t even try—you’ll fail.”

These lies feed my insecurities and sideswipe my desire to be brave. They make me second-guess myself and drag me into a downward spiral I know too well. Being an overthinker doesn’t help; I read too deeply into my actions and the actions of others. Those toxic thoughts hold me back from boldness, fill me with fear, and convince me that failure is inevitable.

These past few weeks have been a constant battle as the lies whisper that I don’t belong, that I’m not capable, that I am not enough. I hate failing—or even risking failure—so hiding behind these thoughts has felt safer than stepping out and trying to build new friendships, navigate adulthood, or learn the ropes at my job.

In the quiet moments, instead of finding rest, I let the lies settle in. The quiet became lonely. Heavy.
And honestly? I failed.
I failed at living audaciously because I let fear convince me to stay nestled in my comfort zone.
I failed—the very thing I was trying to avoid.

Recently, I was challenged to play a simple game. I immediately refused.
Why? Because I knew I’d lose. 

But in my hesitation, someone asked me to step out of my comfort zone. I blurted out, “I do that all the time!” Yet as the words left my mouth, I realized how untrue they really were. I haven’t been stepping out nearly as much as I thought. I’ve been clinging to what’s safe. To the familiar. To the old routines and old relationships, instead of bravely building new ones.

News flash: I will most likely fail at something—or maybe at many things.
But staying still, staying small, staying safe, won’t protect me. It will just keep me from growth.

The thoughts that hold me captive—the ones that say I’m not enough—are lies that need to be rebuked and replaced.
Instead, I should be speaking life over myself:

“You can do this.”
“You are enough.”
“You are beautiful.”
“You may fail, but you’ll learn.”
“You are loved.”

These are the words I need to weave into my soul until they settle into my heart as truth.

The funny thing is, it’s always been easier to speak truth and encouragement over other women than it is to speak it over myself. But that changes now. My challenge during this season of transition is to remind myself—daily—that I am brave, confident, and capable. Fear does not get to tell my story.

And you, reader, are brave.
You are confident.
You are enough.
You were created with purpose.
Yes, you might fail. But don’t let the fear of failure keep you from stepping out into the world.
You are deeply, undeniably loved.

The Story I Never Wanted—and the Life I Now Love

December 17th.

It was the worst day of my life—the day I almost died. In all tangible facts, I shouldn’t have survived. I was broken, and life as I knew it would never be the same.

This anniversary is a big one—nine years. One of the ones that stands out. Because just when I think I’ve “overcome” the incident, something brings it back: a comment, a memory, or a TBI headache. It never feels far from reality.

But over these nine years, I’ve learned something that I want you to really hear:
The trauma you go through—whatever it is—is a part of your story, not your whole story.

When you’re in the thick of it, it feels like life will only ever be a shadow of what it once was. I’ve never been happier to be wrong. Nine years ago, I thought my life was over. I wondered who I would be if I wasn’t a nurse, if I wasn’t a “whole” person anymore. I thanked God for saving me, but if I’m honest, I also wondered why He did if I could no longer do everything I had planned.

Those early years were full of wrestling. But life slowly settled. I worked my butt off to get back to nursing—to get my life back. It took sleepless nights, encouragement, and a whole lot of stubbornness to reach anything that resembled “normal.”

And actually, I’ve come to dislike that word—normal. What even is that? My life now is far from what most would consider normal for a 31-year-old. I live with constant pain. There are days I can’t get out of bed because of a migraine or some other lingering affliction.

Do I hate that part? Absolutely.
Do I love what life has still given me—my empathy, my husband, my son? Without question.
And honestly, I’ve reached a place where I don’t wish the accident never happened.

These past nine years have taken me places I never would have gone—into deep valleys and onto unexpected mountaintops.

A few things I’ve learned along the way:

God can use even the hardest moments if we let Him.

I’m still blown away that He can take the worst moment of my life and somehow bring Himself glory. He shows up in ways I don’t understand, weaving my story into moments I never see coming. It may be my story, but ultimately, it’s His.

Here is worth living—the hard and the holy.

 Being present, right now, is the beauty of the present. Life is what you make it. And there is nothing like being recognized years later in your hometown for something good you did, or having people say they watched you walk through the shadows and come out the other side. People can be the greatest blessing.

God shows up-in the little and big things.

The simple fact that he allowed my life to be spared is a big thing. Now I don’t know what you all believe about God, so hear me with a grain of salt. Throughout my life but especially in the last 9 years. It never ceases to amaze me that God cares about the little things and provides glimmers of light on the hardest days. Glimmers of light such as a cool breeze on a hot day, a coffee from a friend, and a smile from a stranger. Life can get pretty hard sometimes, but God allows these glimmers to remind us of hope. 

December 17th will always mark the day everything changed.
But it’s also the day I began the slow climb toward a life that is hard—and somehow, one I love even more than the one I lost.

Holding space for heavy moments

Sometimes something happens to us and we don’t think we are enough. We don’t think that we are worthy of the good things in our life. When those dark clouds come, it is vitally important that you have people in your life that remind you that you are worth it-you are worth the extra baggage that you have because of some traumatic experience that you did not choose. You didn’t choose this life of chronic pain, of questioning everything, and of wondering if you aren’t good enough.

Let me tell you this. I’ve been there. I know the depths.The moments that you don’t want to be here-or you think that you’d be okay if you weren’t. Those dark clouds can be pretty heavy at times-I know that, you know that. Or maybe you don’t know that-I am really glad you don’t-but try to understand why someone would feel that way.Please try.

Yesterday was World Kindness Day. 

Kindness is free. Kindness costs you nothing, but it could mean the world to someone.

Be kind.

That’s the bottom line. You have no idea what people are going through , but your smile, and your kind words could be the life line someone needs.

Depression doesn’t play favorites. It can affect those of us who have traumatic experiences or those of us who have picturesque childhoods. It doesn’t play favorites and we shouldn’t expect it to. We should be checking in on all our friends-even the “happy” ones. 

I can tell you for a fact that I was severely depressed about my situation 8 years ago, but I’m pretty positive that others couldn’t tell because I knew all the right things to say. I knew how to pretend to be ok, when inside my world was falling apart. I was nowhere near where I wanted to be-but I had come so far since the accident. I lost hope.

Things must be really dire when one loses hope. But I am very lucky that I have people in my corner that notice things like that. One such person in my life called me out-he noticed that I wasn’t putting in the effort that I did before. He called me out on the fact that I seemed to have lost my will to fight. 

That got me thinking-who am I to let the dark cloud win-even subtly. What if I couldn’t do everything that my heart had planned-plans change. That challenge saved my future because I didn’t want to let the trauma win. I don’t know where the future leads but I do know that I’m just here along for the ride.

Now I do not know what your story is, but I do know that you are not reading my thoughts by accident. I’ve been to the depths, so if you need to talk about it, I’m here. I will never think less of anyone for the dark clouds, but I’ll continue to look for the glimmers-in your life and mine. I’ve been there. I survived. And you don’t have to walk it alone.

Living and Loving with a Brain Injury

I’m going to be honest and vulnerable here and that terrifies me, but I hope that my words will help someone not feel alone in their chaos.

It has been almost 8 years since the worst day of my life-the day my life changed. Now don’t hear what I’m not saying. I really like the direction my life is heading right now, but I could live without the constant pain, increased self-consciousness, and occasional migraines.

That’s life now. I’ve had to adjust my expectations of how my day to day life will go. I need to get enough sleep, eat enough, manage my stress, and pace myself. Oftentimes, I’m very self-conscious of my deficits and wonder if people hold them against me. Honestly, sometimes I bring it up to explain why I’m so weird, just like I  often brought up living overseas when I moved back. I deal with a lot of insecurity and inadequacy from my brain injury.  For all intents and purposes, I’m healed. I’m a nurse, wife, mother, and student. I’m definitely not there yet, but I feel like I’m doing okay. On the other hand, I struggle with my limitations and feel like I have to prove myself that much more to show people that I have got it and that I’m smart even though my brain shuts down every so often.

The problem comes when I “forget” that I have a brain injury and try to go forward with life as a “typical” 30 year old. My brain injury has the final say in that I get a migraine for 24 hours during a big week. I forget that I’m not a typical 30 year old mom. I get overstimulated really fast and my brain can’t filter out anything. Then I get caught up in my brain and struggle because I feel like everyone is seeing the chaos that is going on in my head and ultimately judging me for it. 

If you are living with any kind of brain injury or are interacting with someone who is living with a brain injury, here are some tips that I have learned especially over the past month.

  1. Be patient: (with yourself and others). We are doing the best we can. Words sometimes get caught in our heads. If you give us time and space, we will find the words and are sometimes pretty eloquent. Be patient with yourself if you are living with a brain injury. You have overcome so much (stuff people can’t see) to get where you are. I promise that you are harder on yourself than other people are. You see and know everything that goes on in your head, while they only see the outward signs. Also, remember, “those who matter don’t care, and those who care don’t matter”- Dr. Seuss
  1. Give yourself (and others) freedom to be themselves. I don’t know about you but I think life would be pretty boring if everyone was exactly the same. Different is good. Normal is overrated. Everyone has their own brand of normal and that’s okay. You do not know what is going through someone’s head at any given moment. Maybe that look that you spot that makes you feel like they are judging you for something, you have it wrong. Maybe people are laughing at you, maybe they are not. Be you and be you bravely. 

This are just a few thoughts from the last couple of months as I wrestle with almost 8 years of living with a brain injury. Now I feel like I have to clarify, I don’t want this to feel like I’m feeling sorry for myself. I like my life. Do I want anyone to go through this? No. But if talking about this and some of the struggles that I experience helps someone else, then it is worth it. Here is my final thought. Simply be kind. You don’t know what demons people have or are wrestling with

6 years

6 years.-12/17/2022-this season is emotional. As the anniversary of my almost death-my life change-comes close I’m just a mess of emotions.

Let me just be honest.

It’s been a weird season. It has been 6 years. Some people think I shouldn’t be as affected as I am but it literally changed my life. Granted, my life is sweet now, but it’s nothing like I had planned.

BUT GOD.

ABBA-my favorite name for God-knew that I needed cocooned in His arms. He knew that I needed to wake up early and feel Atlas kicking-reminding me that there is a purpose for the constant pelvis pain. He knew that I needed Him.

I’ve learned a lot throughout my life, but here are just a few nuggets that, as the 17th roles around, feel a little more applicable.

  • God is “ABBA”.

The reason why I love this name of God so much is that I love the picture it brings to my mind. A picture of God standing with open arms as I run toward Him. He catches me and picks me up while twirling me around and around. I love that picture. A picture of a God that rules the world yet cares about the littlest thing that is bothering me. 

  • People can hurt you, but just because they can, all of them won’t.

This one is a lesson I’m still processing. Throughout my life, letting people in has always been a struggle. I mean letting people into my core-the core of who Sara is. I have layers like an onion, and I learned the lesson of transparency without vulnerability. Let me explain that. I learned how to peel back enough that people were convinced that I was transparent but there was no real risk of me getting hurt. I worked through that and finally made progress and let a few people in. Then the accident happened, and I’m back at square one. I lost myself and figured that I was “too much” for someone to love. A person simultaneously proved that I was worth investing in and crushed my idea that I would never find love. Then, enter God. God brought a certain person into my life as a friend and I was skittish. I liked him but I figured he would leave. I didn’t want to let him in, because I was afraid of the mess I would be if he did leave. We were friends and then he wormed his way into my heart. He was there. He stayed. He has taught me that it is possible to open your heart again. I love him for that simple fact and for who he is. In opening your heart, there’s always the risk of hurt, but just because they can, doesn’t mean they will.

  • Nothing-no person-is a coincidence.

I don’t believe anything is a coincidence. I don’t believe that I was hired at MCS of a whim. I believe that I was there for a specific reason. I don’t believe God brought people in and took people out of my life for a reason. Each person I’ve interacted with over the years has shaped me into who I am today for better or for worse. 

  • My story is about more than just me.

My story while it directly impacts my day-to-day life, is not simply about me.  This life is about more than my happiness. It’s about God’s redemption of ALL humanity. If God uses me and my story to fulfill his purposes, then all the trauma will be worth it.

  • God is not afraid of emotions.

If I have learned anything in the past sx years, I’ve learned that it’s okay to not be okay for a while, but I can’t stay there. I can’t pitch my tent in the mire and live there. I can visit there. There have been times that I pop right out of the hole, and there have been times where I have needed my brother or parents to give me a swift kick to the bottom (metaphorically) to propel me out of the hole. Love isn’t simply codling but love is telling someone the truth with grace. Two years ago, I hit rock bottom. Life didn’t look anything like I thought it would, and I dug myself a house down in the mire and was planning on staying there indefinitely. 

BUT GOD. 

God in his grace-oh sweet grace-didn’t let me camp there. He put people in my life to give me that swift kick in the butt that I needed, Oh it was hard. There were lots of tears as I lamented what was and could have been. I wrestled with insecurity, I made molehills into mountains, and I surrendered into God’s will. I’m not perfect at this in any means. I still am not quite there yet, but at least I’m not still where I was.

I don’t know what your story is-who has hurt you, what trauma has happened to you-but I do know that there is an ‘abba’ who loves you more than you could ever know. Here’s to believing that God has got this.

Loving your Neighbors and Other Expressions of God’s Goodness.

“It is a gift to have a body that holds our soul here on earth, with a heart that beats and air that

moves through our lungs. It’s a gift to be able to come to God with our prayers. It’s a gift to do the

things that give us joy. It’s a gift to have opportunities to love our neighbors. We live an incarnational

life on purpose. God designed it that way. By our very design we have limitations. We can fight them

or accept them.”

Alexandra Kuykendall

I was just thinking the other day about God’s goodness.

Tonight, I was blown away by God’s goodness. Honestly, if you asked me a year ago, if I would be living Mansfield by my choice, dating the love of my life and working at a hospital

in direct patient care, I would have laughed in your face.

I did laugh in my brothers face when he mentioned something about me returning to the hospital setting.

I honestly figured that was long gone as well as the hopes that anyone would be able to love me and my

broken (albeit slowly put back together brain and “Sara”). But God in his goodness put me back together

piece by piece and placed someone in my life that could handle my put together self with grace.

I don’t know what the future holds for me, but right now, I can honestly say that God is good. A year and a

half ago, I struggled with believing-truly believing-that statement.

God is good.

God has a good plan for me.

I couldn’t see it. Sometimes, I honestly wondered why He saved me.

BUT GOD!

He has burst out of every box that I tried to put Him in. 

I have been so blessed by the unit and people in the hospital God has placed me with.

The man in my life who graciously deals with my schedule and loves my healing brain.

My small group girls and leaders God has put in my life to mold me more like himself.

The sunsets and sunrises where God shows His glory after a long day or long night.

So here I am overwhelmed by the goodness of God and realizing that God is not asking me to change

the world. He is simply asking me to love my neighbor-the people He has chosen to put in my sphere of

influence. Here I’ll be, simply loving my corner of the world. 

Behold Our God

Behold Our God.

 

To be honest, we sang this song this morning.

I was undone. 

I pictured God-the Creator of the Universe-seated on His throne in all its grandeur, but still caring about my small, minuscule dream to return to hospital nursing.

I pictured how blown away and astonished the disciples were to see Jesus standing in front of them after 3 days before they had seen him broken and beaten, hanging on the cross.

Overwhelmed, I sang “You will reign forever (Let Your glory fill the earth)” 

I was overwhelmed by God in that oftentimes, I show up to the throne room with a list of requests and petitions.

 

“God, can you……”

“If you love me, you’ll….”

“God, please,….”

 

I forget to simply just let Him be God. I was overwhelmed this morning-to the point of tears-realizing that even though the past couple weeks were hard, God had in grand ways answered all the prayers of my soul-even the ones I dared not utter out loud.

He opened (and continues to open) doors for me to go back to hospital nursing.

He brought someone into my life to calm my anxious soul and who pursues me with such grace and patience. This special person encourages my seemingly crazy thoughts and pursuits as I strive to figure out this new Sara that he loves.

He showed me my corner of the world and made me realize that Mansfield needs Him just as much as the places I’d dreamed of. He didn’t take them off the table, but rather He changed my heart and eyes to see Him in the seemingly mundane.

This is the God that I worship. 

This God who is seated grandly on His throne in heaven, but still cares about the seemingly minuscule desires of my heart.

This God-who is Creator of the Universe-deserves to simply be beheld in all His glory.

Behold our God seated on His throne

Come, let us adore Him

Behold our King! Nothing can compare

Come, let us adore Him!

 

This is something I was reminded to make time for. Time to just bask in the awesomeness of God. Time to sit at His feet and worship Him for all the things He has done and will do.

If you need me, I’ll be over here overwhelmed by the goodness of God. I’ll be over here beholding my God who as done over and beyond what I prayed and wished for.

4 Things to Learn in Waiting.

Seasons. Blooming. Waiting. Growing.

These are words that have been pressing on my soul in these past months. 

 

“Your fear of the unknown has spoken so many things over you, but it has never spoken anything true. It has only led you into places that only lead to deeper fears, so how could it ever be a voice that you can trust? I hope that you can beyond to trust something greater, beyond your fears. I hope you can trust that Love is greater than any fear, no matter how hard it has been to see how Love is present here. Your fear of the unknown may continue to speak loudly, but may you always remember, it holds no truth, and it surely does not define you. Love speaks louder. Love always speaks louder.”

-Morgan Harper Nichols

 

I read this today, and it spoke to the very depths of my soul. I’m entering a new season with this fellowship, and it’s bringing all my insecurities and fears to the surface.

The past couple of months have been a season of waiting-waiting for God to move in certain areas. In this season-this waiting, striving, and thriving season, here are a few things that I’ve learned.

 

  • Jesus is enough. Jesus is enough to meet all your needs if you let Him. This is something I had to learn the hard way. After a pretty stressful day of thing after thing not working out, I was looking to my boyfriend and friends to fill that need when I should have been looking to Jesus. It’s not fair to them to expect them to meet those needs when they can’t meet it in totality. It just leaves me feeling let down and upset because it seems like they don’t care but in reality, they just don’t have the energy to meet my emotional needs. Jesus does. “God won’t let you down; He won’t leave you. Don’t be intimidated. Don’t worry.” Deu.31:8MSG
  • Waiting doesn’t mean you are stagnant. Waiting on God to move in a certain area means that you may not be moving in that area, but what about the other areas? In my case, I was waiting for God to move in the job front, I eventually figured out that I had more time to put roots into people and my anchor down into this place that was quickly becoming home. I started being more intentional with the people God had placed into my sphere of influence.
  • Rest is a needed skill. Making time for rest is a needed habit to cultivate into your life. If one can learn to instill this habit into their life now, then later when life picks up speed, it would be easier to maintain because the habit has already been established. It only takes two weeks for an ongoing decision to become a habit. 
  • Invest in your growth. This is a perfect time to read that book you have always been wanting to read or pick that hobby you’ve been dying to learn. This is a carved out and designated time to invest in yourself and growth.

 

So if you need me in the next couple of days, I’ll be relishing this time I have and learning to trust God in the midst of this unknown season.

Right Here, Right Now

I’m just going to be 100% honest. I just got okay-deep in my soul-with being back in Mansfield.

In the first months after my accident, I fought God on several things and being back in Mansfield was one of them. I didn’t have a choice in moving back. My family and friends literally packed up my apartment and moved my stuff into my parent’s house while I was in the hospital. Granted, it was a special case in that I really couldn’t have taken care of myself. I couldn’t even walk by myself.

Nevertheless, I was mad at God.

I struggled to be content right here, right now, wishing I was anywhere but here. Last fall, I started this journey of being content recognizing that this is my corner of the world. I read Shannan Martin’s The Ministry of Ordinary Places last fall. This caught my eye. She writes, “God got busy shrinking the world as I knew it down to a pinhole, one solitary shaft of light. ‘The souls exists and is built entirely out of attentiveness,’ wrote Mary Oliver. Rather than feeling stuck in a problem-sodden world, I would never be able to fix, God was caring for my soul by pointing me towards my corner of it and asking me to believe it was enough”. That’s when I started to realize that instead of being upset at God for bringing me back, I needed to accept that he brought me back for a reason. He was asking me if this right here, right now would be enough. That challenged me. Was it enough? Could it be enough? If I were to stay in America, in Mansfield, Ohio, for the rest of my life, would that be enough? Would listening, loving, and pointing my small group girls toward God be enough? It’s not as extraordinary as helping starving orphans in Mexico or loving on kids in Africa. Would sacrificing sleep to love on a girl who may not know what that looks like be enough? I say I’m content and at peace with staying here-right here-indefinitely, but would that be enough?

It’s been a journey in getting to this place, and God has used several people to instill that into my head. I think the biggest one is the student God bought to MCS and my life. God put me right here, right now to let that sweet little boy not feel alone in that he isn’t the only one who has a traumatic brain injury. I am still blown away by God and how He orchestrated my being at the school at the exact time he started coming to the school. This solidified this idea that I’m right here, right now for a reason. So I don’t know what your story is: whether you aren’t working in the field you went to college for, or you may be in a different place than you thought you’d be, financially or physically. What I have learned in the past two years, I want to pass on to you:

 

  • You may not like where you are in life, but there are no coincidences with God. The situation may not be caused by God, but God can use that situation in others lives.
  • He brings people into your life and even takes them out for a reason.

 

 

2 years and Counting

730 days.

17520 hours.

1051200 minutes.

That’s how long it has been since my life changed. Well, it’s coming up in about a month. It’s a

time that I really could have done without, but I remember it because of God.

I’m alive primarily because of God.

These two years have been challenging and hard-often times seemingly impossible-but God has

held my hand through the fire.

Here are a few things that kinda summarize the past two years.

  • There are a few people that climb in the hole and hold you when it’s not their battle to
  • fight. Never let those people go.

These people are my people. My family have been through every high and low with me. There have

been some friends that have seen me at my worst and still chose to crawl into the hole with me. They

didn’t try to help me up right off the bat, but they sat with me for a while. Then, they started to help me

up and out of the hole. One of the reasons, I’m where I am today is because of the few people that never

gave up on me.

  • God can redeem and repurposed dreams that you thought were lost.

There are some dreams or experiences that got cut short-like working with my best friend-but God has

taken those dreams that I had as a little and grown girl and shaped them into his will. I love little humans

and now I get to love on them both in my job and free time. I wouldn’t change anything because these

littles have wormed their way into my heart. My dreams right now look a lot different now because some

doors have close, but also because my dreams have changed.

  • God isn’t afraid of emotion.

For a long time, I felt conflicted. I felt like I couldn’t have doubts about God’s goodness. At the same time,

I didn’t believe God was good or had a good plan for me. I needed to face that emotion-that doubt-and

give it room to breathe so to speak. When I gave myself permission to have those questions and sit with

them, I discovered the ways God has been good to me throughout-giving me people to come alongside

me, getting a job etc. That’s when the most emotional healing happened, because I gave myself

permission to have those doubts. In the end, I fell in love with the person I’m becoming shaped by

my experiences.

  • God is love. He oozes it, and it encompasses everything He does.

Love. That’s a had emotion to pin down. Often recently, I’ve heard the argument that if God is love,

why do bad things happen. I was thinking, if God is love then why was 2017 so awful. I don’t know the

answer but this is what I’ve figured out. (This is my opinion based on scripture and my experience so I

would take it with a grain of salt.) God doesn’t cause bad things-hard things-but He walks right beside

us-loving us fiercely through it. I mean, look at Joseph’s life. God didn’t cause him to be sold to the

Egyptians-sin nature caused that, but he orchestrated it to be used in the saving of Egypt and Israel.

  • Everyone gets overwhelmed looking at the big picture, so smaller goals are needed.

I think if I realized two years ago that I will never be done with my TBI journey-that I will never not have

a traumatic brain injury-I think I would have fallen into a deeper longer depression. I needed to set my

mind on the simple fact that the most recovery will be done in the first two years. I focused all my energy

on getting better in the first two years. As the two year mark fastly approaches, I’m better able to mentally

wrap my head around the fact that I’ll always deal with this and be recovering.