Perseverance

 Persistence

So as I’m walking out healing and stretching into that next level of growth, it’s taking more out of me than I expected. And honestly? That’s okay.

A few months ago, I had a sudden spike in my blood pressure. Now, if you know my story, you know I watch it like a hawk—especially since I had a stroke at age 39. I could feel something was off, so I went to the ER. It was indeed high, and they admitted me for observation and control. No signs of a stroke on paper… but looking back, I suspect I may have had a minor TIA. No blame. Just discernment.

Not long after that, I lost partial use of my right hand. Strange, I know. The doctor believed it was a nerve in my elbow causing the numbness, and maybe it was. But when you have to re-learn how to use your dominant hand—rebuild strength, reteach your brain, and still feel numbness in two fingers—you know something significant happened.

And yet, here I am, slowly regaining function. It’s been a journey of perseverance and trust. I’ve chosen—for now—not to pursue an orthopedic consult or surgery. Not because I’m avoiding it, but because I’m actively believing for full healing. I’m listening. I’m waiting.

For a time, I had almost no use of my right arm. Typing, texting—even basic tasks—were a struggle. But I stayed with it. I kept showing up, pushing through, celebrating each small gain. The strength is returning. The numbness lingers, but progress is real.

I also discovered that my blood pressure issue was triggered by medication—specifically hormones. Once I cut them out, my numbers began to stabilize. I’m now off all daily meds and just have a rescue option in case. Another layer of breakthrough. Another win.

All of this while navigating my husband’s health crisis—trying to determine if he would keep his foot or lose part of it. And let me tell you, when you're both sick, out of work, and bills pile up? That’s a different level of pressure. But God has provided. He is still providing. And I am still trusting.

Persistence, for me, isn’t a nice idea—it’s survival. And some days, survival looks like clinging to hope with both hands, even when one of them doesn’t fully work.

This 90-day push to take care of me might look selfish on the surface. But it’s not. It’s me choosing to prioritize the temple God gave me. To heal from the inside out. To create a life that allows me to enjoy my family, make memories, and leave a legacy—of love, of wisdom… and maybe a little cash too (let’s be real!).

So yes, distraction shows up daily. Circumstances scream. But I’ve learned to put on my Holy Spirit noise-canceling headphones and keep moving forward.

Because healing is worth fighting for. And I refuse to stop.