New Book Opens Doors for Fun and Advocacy

Over the course of twenty-plus years working in the field of Disability Ministry, I have heard countless stories from parents and caregivers who struggle to navigate a less than accessible world. Trips as a full family into public must be meticulously planned and executed around meals and potential bathroom breaks. The near impossibility of making things work perfectly often causes more stress than families are willing to go through. The result, families are forced to play tag team. One parent always stays home to care for their child with a disability while the other ventures out.

Can you relate?

One of the major obstacles for families is the lack of universal-sized changing tables in restrooms. This is not unique to churches. Public spaces everywhere have looked the other way when it comes to true accessibility. And when a child outgrows an infant-sized changing table the world is no longer accessible.

Parents and caregivers that are brave enough to venture out despite the lack of universal-sized changing tables can be forced to lay their loved ones on a filthy bathroom floor or change them in the back of a van for the whole world to see. Lack of accessibility in restrooms robs people of their dignity. This should not be!

All people deserve dignity.

So what can anyone do about it? It seems like a problem that is too big or too broken to fix.

On today's blog, we're excited to introduce you to a new collaboration between Ryan Wolfe (founder of Ability Ministry) and illustrator Adam Bryant. 

Their book "The Incredible Shrinking Toilets" is opening doors for fun and meaningful conversations around the awkward topic of bathroom accessibility.

An obvious obstacle to change is the fact that talking about what goes on in the bathroom is awkward at best.

That is why Adam Bryant and I wrote a book called, The Tale of the Shrinking Toilets.

Adam Bryant, an accomplished artist, is the book’s illustrator. He was diagnosed with Asperger Syndrome at age 11. Adam never saw his diagnosis as a detriment, but rather a blessing. He graduated high school with honors and went on to earn his bachelor’s degree from Savannah College of Art and Design, majoring in animation. Adam shares, “What keeps me going as an artist is wanting to make a positive impact on the world with my art and helping reach others! That’s what I feel like I am here to do, and why I was given these talents!”

What exactly is this toilet book all about?

Why read a book full of potty talk? It is not because the author wants to push the buttons of the polite police in your lives. There is a much deeper meaning behind all this toilet talk.

You will soon find out that the world changed forever on “Two Two Day” when all the toilets in public restrooms mysteriously shrunk to miniature size. The Tale of the Shrinking Toilets reveals the devastating consequences of an inaccessible world as it paints a powerful allegory and invites its readers an opportunity to be change agents.

The book is meant to break the ice in a fun way on the difficult topic of bathroom accessibility. It was meant to be used as a conversation starter.

If your church does, favorite restaurant, business, etc. does not have a universal-sized changing table, buy this book for the lead pastor or business owner. Let the book start the awkward conversation for you. Ask them to read it and then follow up with them after they have read the book.

Do not just point out the problem. Tell them why accessibility is important to you, your family, and families like yours! Then present them with practical doable solutions and next steps.

In addition to the book, we have created a website full of resources to help you be a change agent in your community. Visit our website here.

If you want to get involved and make a difference check out our Initiative page. On this page, there are ways to contact your local officials, sample letters you can use to lobby for change, blueprints for building a DIY universal-sized changing table, and links to purchase affordable options.

If your church or business needs a universal-sized changing table, grant money is also available for your project. Learn more about those grants here.

This story is dedicated to all people with disabilities and their loved ones who are forced to navigate the frustrating landscape of a world that is neither kind nor accessible. Living in a world that is not accessible is not fiction.

This is reality. Thankfully, there is a solution to this crisis. Installing universal-sized changing stations in public restrooms can make all the difference in the world. Be a part of the solution. Do not be afraid of a little potty talk.

If you would like to purchase a book grab one in the Ability Ministry store. Every penny of your purchase goes to the grant fund that we make available for churches.

Thank you for being a change agent. Remember, everyone deserves dignity and you can provide that for them by being an advocate.


Ryan Wolfe is the President and CEO of Ability Ministry, a non-profit organization that provides homes for adults with intellectual and developmental disabilities. Ability Ministry also works with religious organizations, helping them to establish and advance Disability Ministry programming and outreach. In addition to being an author and featured speaker, Ryan is a passionate advocate for individuals with disabilities. His personal mission is to fight not only for inclusion but also for meaningful opportunities of belonging.

Truth About Adoption

Thank you to Leah Lundgren Spring for sharing today’s contribution. May God use it to grow our understanding, compassion, respect, and vision! As the world churns with troubling questions, let us consider the range of options, collaborate to make more solutions possible, and celebrate those who come alongside others who are hurting.

“Speak up for those who cannot speak up for themselves; ensure justice for those being crushed.
Yes, speak up for the poor and helpless and see that they get justice.”

PROVERBS 31:8-9

I will never hide the truth of adoption.

Lots of future adoptive parents are watching me. And other adoptive families. They don’t understand what it means when you say, “we deal with lots of hard things.”

What is “hard”?

We are fortunate that, so far, this has been the easiest of our adoptions. But this is our sixth, and we are well prepared thanks to some of our other adoptions that were extremely traumatic for everyone, including our other kids, and myself, and my husband, Dean.

Some of the Spring Family

I will tell you, we deal with a teenager attitude with the cognitive ability an 8 year old and the social skills of 4 or 5 year old.

We deal with trauma triggers like suitcases due to far too many moves for one child, and too many caregivers. Riding in our big van is associated with being picked up at the airport.

This started in Bulgaria and continues here: When we drive down the road to anywhere she is constantly on the lookout for black SUVs, which she refers to as “jeep.” She studies the people inside. There is a slight sense of fear in her body language when one is close to us. Yesterday after picking up her glasses, there was a black SUV parked next to us, on her side of the car. She stopped in her tracks and stared at it, then cautiously walked to her door until she could see there was nobody inside. Did someone she know drive a vehicle like this and she’s afraid they’ll take her back? Did a person who once hurt or abandoned her drive one? We may never know.

Spring family on the road in their van.

Hard is thinking that having a teenager who obsessively DEEP cleans the entire house, top to bottom, would be a blessing. Why does she know how to do this? Who taught her? Was she taught for good reasons such as channeling her high energy and obsessive compulsive disorder? Or was she forced to clean and she thinks she needs to earn her keep? And hard is finding all the things you’re missing because the cleaner put them in a “better” place.

Hard is a child who can be absolutely darling 85% of the time. Until other people come around. All kids test. Please don’t say “all kids do that.” I have lots of kids. I know what kids do. I also know when a kid with severely disordered attachment is trying to manipulate strangers or visitors and how uncomfortable it is to deal with it. And I feel the judgement of others who don’t understand how absolutely firm our “no” must be.

Hard is parenting a child who, for 14 years, has never been told “no.” Hard is knowing that walking into a store means dealing with employees who say things like, “Oh, it’s ok. She can take that.” After all, it’s just an advertisement flyer. Or business card. Or free sample. And you sound like a mean parent for saying “no” to the child — Every. Single. Time. No. Matter. What. Because one “yes” means starting all over.

Hard is having a daily “paper clean out” of all the paper items taken from stores when you weren’t looking.

Hard is wanting to buy your child all the things she has never had but she already feels entitled because she’s gotten new things and thinks every new thing that comes into the house must be for her and forget anyone else.

A Spring family meal.

Hard is telling people please don’t bring her gifts.

Hard is watching the other kids struggle to adjust.

Hard is limiting independence already learned due to necessity, because it puts her in a position of power over other kids in the house. “Helping” isn’t always a good thing.

Hard is not allowing your child to even say “hello” to strangers in passing because she misunderstand it is safe to leave with them. Why not? She left with me, a total stranger.

Hard is standing in a check-out line while keeping your body between her and anyone else because she will start adjusting the clothing on total strangers.

Hard is having total strangers in public places ask questions for which they feel entitled to answers. I’m all about sharing our story, but it’s not always the appropriate time.

Hard is teaching English to a child with cognitive delays.

Like I said, this has been our easiest adoption. But that doesn’t mean we’re not exhausted.

It also does not mean we have regrets. We have ZERO regrets! Every day I ask “how can this be so easy? What’s ahead that we don’t yet know? Or is it easy because we already did the crazy high stress adoption?”

Hard is all the things we cannot share.

Hard is knowing her “hard” is a million times worse than ours.

Adoption is hard.

And so worth it.

RELATED: Churches that Encourage Adoption Should be Trauma Informed and Disability Accommodating


Leah Lundgren Spring is mom to lots of kids. In addition to her 6 adult children, Leah and her husband, Dean, have adopted several other children. All have Down syndrome. She has also lived through breast cancer with chemo, had 16 major surgeries (most related to cancer, including bilateral mastectomy and numerous breast reconstruction surgeries), scratched her head along with doctors when deciding how to keep one child alive, moved house, wiped noses, brushed teeth, trimmed toenails, cleaned g-tubes, and did more laundry than she cares to remember. The Spring family recently welcomed the newest American citizen to their family — Adell from Bulgaria — making theirs a family of 14!

First Fruits and Surprises

Jon and Sylvia Flint have an inspiring and challenging story for us all. They have been faithful prayer partners, cheerleaders, and monthly donors supporting Walk Right In Ministries for many years. Their generous partnership may have started out as simple compassion but it has grown for surprising reasons over the years.

We’re thankful they shared their story, and thankful you are taking time to read it. God’s ways are ever-increasingly powerful and meaningful, when we step out in faith to follow His promptings.

It was many years ago when we decided that we needed to financially give back to God much more than we had been doing. We were giving far less than the ten percent tithe that many churches and pastors promote. Something or Someone inside of us kept whispering that we should do more.

And so we began.

As we approached the ten percent goal of such gifts, we began to understand that said number was not the roof of the “giving house” but rather the floor. And God really didn’t just want our left over “10% plus” income. He preferred the “first fruit” (Exodus 23:16, Deuteronomy 14:22).

At the same time, we were beginning to understand that we couldn’t out-give God.  Every time we would increase our giving, additional funds seemed to mysteriously appear. Where before this learning we had been living from paycheck to paycheck, we were beginning to have enough money to do things beyond basics and not have to call the bank to see if our check would bounce.

As we gave funds to typical non-profit groups, we noted that the whole world began to be in touch with us. We didn’t realize how much mail one person or family unit could receive each day. It seemed that the total group of non-profits keeping in touch with us was collectively spending more money on stamps than we were providing the few that we were supporting. We quickly realized that we needed to decide on those we were going to support and advise the others to look elsewhere. We did the first very quickly but they, the non-profits, didn’t keep their part of our one-sided bargain. To this day, we throw away so much unasked for mail from non-profits that we bemoan the wasted money we see going through our mail box.

Enter “Walk Right In Ministries!”

We’ve known Lisa & Larry Jamieson for more years than any of us would like to admit to. They’re members of our greater family. Larry is Jon’s nephew. We attended their wedding. We rejoiced as their children were born. We  watched from afar as their youngest was born even as something seemed different from the norm. We prayed with and for them as they struggled to determine what was going on with her and what support was available to help them through the different difficulties they had with Carly.

It was obvious that there wasn’t much of a support system for families like theirs. Yet, rather than sit and complain at what was happening to them, they chose to begin to be active and build a support system, not just for their situation but for the situations of many families who have special needs.

We must admit that we waited a bit to see if this ministry was for real or just a passing fad. It didn’t take long to realize that they were in this for the long haul. And it was also obvious that monies provided were going to be put to good use – not frivolously. These folks are the same “off camera” as they are “on!”

As time went on, we increased our financial support and watched as God used it through Walk Right In Ministries and, at the same time, God provided us with more to be shared with others.

Of course, as is the case in so many other places in our lives, God was already preparing the way in our personal lives.

Several years later we received the privilege of having a special needs great granddaughter (Cambria, pictured here) born into our immediate family. She lives here in our town.

It’s been a great sense of comfort to know that Walk Right In Ministries is available as quickly as a phone call. Even as they may not directly know the answer to the various questions we have, they have many contacts that can help with the support needed.

Earlier we said that you can’t out-give God. We should not limit our understanding of the gifts we receive to the financial world. The comfort and peace we feel in knowing that there is a whole community of help, available as needed, is far greater than any monetary gift we are able to provide.

People insure so many things in their lives and yet, too often, they ignore the most important parts of that life until it’s too late to receive help.

Come and join many others who have insured what is often thought to be the uninsurable – finding help and support in times of intense need.

There is help out there. If someone can only tell us where. Look to Walk Right In Ministries.




Contact us to RSVP for Reach Night and get all the details!

Finding Open Doors and Hearts

My beloved shoe repair shop is gone. Carly and I headed over there the other day because I was hoping to get a favorite leather purse fixed. I knew our local cobbler would be perfect for the job. He would have all the necessary tools, along with a willing and flexible spirit.

He filled some valuable needs for us in the early 2000s. Most notably, when Carly was very young, and her foot supination was needing attention. He rose to the occasion. We had been advised to find a shoemaker who could add a wedge on the outside edge of Carly’s soles. They would help neutralize her positioning, protect her from injury, and support healthy growth and development.

I enjoyed that shoe guy immensely. In stature, warmth and even facial features, he reminded me of Geppetto, the old woodcarver who created Pinocchio. His empty windows made me sad but grateful with nostalgia.

Our beloved shoe repair shop, closed and vacated. (March 2022)

Times are different now. Covid has changed so much. But the culture was already shifting. These days, people rarely need shoe repairs. After all, many of us lived in our socks and slippers for the better part of 2020 and 2021! Also, with the quality of how things are made now, and the nature of people being enticed by shiny new things, we tend to replace rather than repair or renew anymore. I predict the repurposing movement may never make its way to clothing with the same gusto it has for furniture and nick knacks.

Still, when we really need our shoe guy, nobody else will do. He might fulfill a small niche need, but it’s an important one and few others can step in to fill that “shoe.”

Now friends, I really like my purse. I want it fixed pretty badly. It is disappointing and frustrating that I have very few options left, at this point. I’ve been told that one option is to take it to a leather repair shop that is going to charge me $50 for the repair. That’s not going to happen. The other option is start calling other shops to see if they can give me a cost estimate before I start driving far across town to the very few and far-flung options that are left.

Seriously, I don’t have time or energy for this.

This is where my mind pivoted to something I often hear my clients say. They have been desperate to find counselors who truly understand their situation as caregivers. They desperately want specialized and credible encouragement and practical application for their very complicated lives and all from a foundation of Christian values. They need a counseling “shoe” that really fits.

One mom’s voice often rises to the top of stories I’ve heard over the years:

“I had received counseling, but it was really difficult because not many people understand the dynamic that we go through. And the first time I talked with Lisa, I remember thinking to myself, finally somebody gets it. Somebody hears me and somebody understands. She understands but she never left me to continue to wallow in my pity. She reminded me of God’s truth, of God’s promises, and all in the context of understanding as someone who had literally walked in my same shoes. I heard it better from someone who suffered sleepless nights. I heard it better from someone who had taken her child to have speech therapy, occupational therapy, swallow studies, you name it. Her encouragement came from a different place. And it meant the difference, for me, between life and death. I literally was suicidal the day I spoke with her. I had made a plan and she convinced me otherwise.”

WRIM Counseling Client

I share this so you have a sense of where my personal passion comes from, but more so because this represents a grossly under-recognized heart cry of parents and family members who are caregivers.

This kind of desperation needs a voice and a platform. These friends need help. A unique kind of help.

When the Board of Directors for Walk Right In Ministries met in early March for our annual meeting, there was a great deal of discussion around this subject. WRIM fits a unique niche offering services that an extreme few others offer anywhere in the world.

Walk Right In Ministries is on mission to build faith and community with families impacted by disability and special health needs.

RELATED: Watch “About Walk Right In Ministries”

Caregiving families, depending on the degree of health or developmental complexities involved, have many and varied needs. And there can be sources of help for many of those needs ranging from government benefits to charities and business that provide everything from adapted equipment, home modifications, horseback riding or music therapy, and braille books to specialized financial planning and legal counsel. But a caregiving parent who wants a Christian counselor who is experienced working with someone raising a child with disabilities or complex health needs will be hard-pressed to find it.  

We’ve been preparing for Reach Night 2022 here at Walk Right In Ministries. That’s our annual virtual fundraiser. And the focus this year will be on raising money, specifically for counseling scholarships. Last year, WRIM offered $18,000 in scholarships to families seeking Christian counseling and discipleship services.

You may or may not have known exactly what our niche is at WRIM. You also have been unaware of how great the need is for what we do and how hard it is to find people and organizations who do it. Come hear the stories. Learn more about what an amazing difference these kinds of services are making for families living with disability. There will be music from national, award-winning artists too!

RELATED: Watch Impact Stories from Reach Night 2021. There will be more exciting stories like these at Reach Night 2022!

Walk Right In Ministries welcomes and needs financial support. Gifts to WRIM make several things possible:

  • People with disabilities, their caregivers, and their families will be encouraged. They will feel seen, valued, and understood. They will have unique spiritual and emotional needs met, not just their physical and lifestyle needs.
  • WRIM will be able to increase our investment in a growing team of trained therapists, coaches, and mentors who specialize in caregiver support.
  • Caregiver-focused counseling, training and discipleship support groups will be readily accessible, regardless of someone’s ability to pay.
    Note: As a 501(c)3 non-profit organization, WRIM offers many counseling scholarships and a sliding fee scale. No one is ever turned away.
  • Other organizations will increasingly recognize faith-based caregiver support as a valid “niche” and have confidence to increase their own investments in counseling and discipleship resources.
WRIM offered $18,000 in counseling scholarships during 2021.

Yes, we’re asking you to pray for our “competition” too. We welcome competition because that means families living with disability will more easily find and access essential help they need!

Pray also that every single one of us increasingly follows Jesus’ model for biblical friendship. Because if every Christian was walking in God-honoring friendship with others, especially those who live with extra needs or challenges, the world wouldn’t be so reliant on highly trained counselors and pastors.

We have a wonderful night planned with Reach Night 2022! I truly hope you’ll join us on April 8th at 7 PM Central on Zoom. RSVP here for the link and meeting code.

For a delightful half hour, you’ll hear stories of lives being changed by God through faith-based caregiver counseling, training and discipleship support groups. You’ll also hear music from national artists — Dove Award winning Ginny Owens and the Grammy nominated sibling group The Martins.

RSVP now for a “front row seat” on Reach Night!

God is doing something powerful among us. He is building a diverse and rich community where people are finding true hope, help, and friendships.

God is connecting the stories among is in beautiful, life-transforming ways!

Thank you for any part you are playing in this beautiful ministry and community where lives are being transformed! Thank you for helping caregivers find open doors and hearts, with practical spiritual tools and the hope of Christ.

Oil and perfume make the heart glad, and the sweetness of a friend comes from his earnest counsel.
Proverbs 27:9


Lisa Jamieson is a caregiver consultant, pastoral counsellor and author of popular books and Bible studies including Finding Glory in the Thorns and Jesus, Let’s Talk. She leads a weekly online discussion group welcoming caregivers in families living with disability. Lisa and her husband, Larry, are co-founders of Walk Right In Ministries, a non-profit organization building faith and community with special needs families. They live in Minnesota with the youngest of their three grown daughters, Carly, who has Angelman Syndrome.


Your Story Matters

Each of us needs to know that we matter to God.

It is a gift to receive reassurances, now and then, about our value. And it is inspiring to hear from others about how God makes a big Kingdom deal out of our seemingly insignificant personal lives.

As we turn pages to a new year, in seasons of change and transition, or when life feels like a wilderness, each of us appreciates encouragement that our life matters somehow in the broader scheme of things.

I love to read. I don’t get much time for it but various things about reading make a powerful soul-fueler for me. Biographies and autobiographies, in particular, are a favorite genre of mine. I get important encouragement and inspiration from hearing how others have found faith in Jesus, endured adversity, persevered when life was a slog, learned new things, helped others, and had fun along the way.

In her book, Singing in the Dark, award-winning Christian music artist Ginny Owens helps readers understand the background of some incredible songs and she invites us to write our own prayers of worship, lament, and longing.

Ginny has been blind since she was three years old. She intimately understands how our lives write a story. Hers, like each of ours, is a story where joys and sorrows mingle. Hers, like each of ours, finds it places of resonance where someone recognizes a connection and finds themselves encouraged by something about Ginny’s experiences. How could she possibly have known as a young girl that God would give her a platform to lead hundreds of thousands of people around the world through darkness to see the Light of Christ?

Few of us can imagine that kind of impact will come from just living our lives.

RELATED: What is the parable of your life?

I am mother to three grown daughters. Our youngest, Carly, is 23 years old but remains entirely dependent on others for her care. All day. And almost all night long. My story has become integrally woven with hers. Together, our stories are even more integrally woven with God’s.

When I read Ginny’s book last year, I was inspired to start writing poetry again as part of my daily worship. Although I wrote several songs as a child and teen, I hadn’t written prose or lyrics for decades. It was refreshing to me to experience this prayerful process in a new season.

One of those poems came easily. It emerged from my passion for sharing life together with others based on the simplicity of following Jesus into the world in whatever circumstances we find ourselves living.

I’ll Follow You With My Story
by Lisa Jamieson

You put me in a family
Chosen to leave Your mark
But something has derailed me
Now confused, I’m in the dark

I’ve stumbled time and time again
Looking for more love
Disappointed by a world of hurt
Left only to look above

I tried so hard to look for you
Resented the absence of your touch
The world dealt me a blessing 
Of each one’s little, You made much

In the harsh and weary days and nights
My soul has languished low 
Yet now I’m growing confident
That a story You still sow

You are the Story Maker
My faith and purpose lifted
Not by my efforts or earning 
But by You simply gifted

As my tale is woven
My eyes catch Your vision
When Your cross was raised, and earth was split
My happy ending given

With each new day I’m strengthened
By no deed of my own
But simply as I stumble 
Within Your arms I’ve grown

The enemy may taunt me
Tension will remain
Life’s bitter cup will tempt me
I will wait for release from pain

All degree of patience 
Will surely bring reward
As all delay is purposed 
Confirmed and graced by Sword 

I see the pace of healing now
Your ever-present hand
I’ll follow You with my story
Into the hungry land

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I would one day be a special needs mom, let alone an advocate and pastor, working and doing life alongside families living with disability.

“You don’t always get to choose your circumstances, but you do get to choose the story your life tells.”

GINNY OWENS

Today’s culture seems fascinated with story. But there’s an essential distinction to recognize. We are part of God’s story. His story is first. Our story within His is what gives our story its real value. Our story within His story is what packs ours with power and Kingdom-sized fruit.

It matters Who we’re following when we go out into the world with ourselves. Because the ultimate Spirit coming across in our message must be Love. Oh! How challenging it can be to move myself out of the way and let Love lead!

When I ask God, “break my heart for what breaks Yours,” (lyric from the Hosanna! Song) He changes my heart. He changes the motivations and directions through which my personal story unfolds.

PLAYLIST IDEA: Hosanna! (Hillsong UNITED version)

When Jesus said, “Come, follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men,” (Matthew 4:19), he was essentially saying, “Let me make a new kind of person out of you. I’ll show you how to be moved by LOVE. I’ll teach you how to bring My love to every other life You encounter.”

Oh, God, make it so!

Oswald Chambers says in My Utmost of His Highest (October 18 devotion), “Our Lord told us how our love for Him is to exhibit itself when He asked, ‘Do you love Me?’ (John 21:17). And then He said, ‘Feed My sheep.’ In effect, He said, ‘Identify yourself with My interests in other people,’ not, ‘Identify Me with your interests in other people.’”

Yes, friend, your story matters so very much — to many — and it is power in God’s hand. Follow Jesus into the world with it!

“The Goal is not for us to go out and make sure that the whole world knows who we are and what we do. The goal is to do what He’s called us to do in the place and the moment where we are.”

GINNY OWENS

GET GINNY’s BOOK AND MUSIC: Singing in the Dark book and accompanying music EP

WEAR THE MESSAGE WITH US! Your Story Matters – follow Jesus into the world with it

PLAYLIST IDEA: Follow You (Leeland with Brandon Heath)


Lisa Jamieson

Lisa Jamieson is a caregiver consultant, pastoral counsellor and author of popular books and Bible studies including Finding Glory in the Thorns and Jesus, Let’s Talk. Lisa and her husband, Larry, live in Minnesota with the youngest of their three grown daughters, Carly, who has Angelman Syndrome. Together, the Jamiesons founded Walk Right In Ministries in 2008, a non-profit organization building faith and community alongside families living with disability.


Guest Post: Not Yet

The waiting room.

We have all been there. Most of life is waiting for the next thing, the next season, the next phase.

The waiting room is sterile, awkward, and a place of palpable fear.

For those of us who are suffering, waiting is incredibly painful.

We are waiting for a cure. Waiting for rescue. 

Copyright: nanobey

As we wait, we massage the heartache of disappointment from dashed dreams. We try to convince ourselves that it will be okay — that is, until another salt-tipped dagger stabs our resilience.

Some of us are okay with waiting. But MOST of us are asking why, when, and how?

Why didn’t God answer my prayers for my deliverance or my loved one’s healing from a diagnosis? 

When will this agony of daily grief be over?

How long, O Lord?

I struggle with chronic suffering. I live in circumstances that cannot be fixed by intellect, hard work, or service to the church. I am the mother of a disabled daughter. I am the grieving daughter who lost her mother to a slow death from metastatic cancer.

I have wrestled with the God I chose to follow at age 7. I accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior with the vigor of child-like faith. But suffering has caused me to question this faith. 

My childhood faith was black and white.

My adult faith is grey.

My childhood faith was the easy proclamation of “Jesus loves me.”

My adult faith is accepting “Though He slay me, I will trust in Him.” 

My childhood faith was about receiving.

My adult faith is about letting go of the most tightly held parts of my heart.

As a child, I was focused on Jesus’ hands. He healed the blind with his touch and he stilled the storms with a wave of his hand. With such a miraculous God, trust and obey was the assumed cadence.

But as an adult, as trials have heaped more questions than answers, I am focused on Jesus’ heart. I want to understand his purpose when he suffered on the cross. Because now I feel nailed to my own cross. And I need someone else to carry it for me. Especially in the trial of unanswered prayer, I am fighting to trust and obey. 

The call to trust and obey does not change from childhood to adulthood. But as adults, we just have more doubts about whether God is trustworthy. We become suspicious that He may not know all of our needs. Does He really know us personally? Does He really have our best interests at heart? 

The world is certainly filled with enough evil that it may seem God is hands-off and uncaring. We may see his “NO” stamped on every gravestone and stack of medical bills. There are even passages in Scripture that can cause us to doubt God’s love. But when we view Scripture as a whole from Genesis to Revelation, we see our story in the context of a greater one.

When we read the Bible to understand the giver and not the gifts, our filter changes. 

We see God’s heartbreak when his creation rebels against Him. We see God’s loving-kindness in providing for complainers in the wilderness. We see God’s tenderness to those who even killed him. We see God’s justice when evil will no longer win. We see God’s mercy in how he pursues us in our rebellion.

Through this lens, we are more aware of our need for rescue, and we stand in awe of a trustworthy God. As our minds are transformed, our emotions are also sanctified by these truths. But during this transformation, we still need to learn how to reconcile unanswered prayer.

We are tempted to believe that God’s final answer is No.

But in reality, His answer is just not yet.

It is not yet time for physical healing. It is not yet time for deliverance from the salty dagger. God is asking us to hold onto hope for the finale. And while we wait, He calls us to hold onto Him. For His grace is sufficient. 

Finding comfort in the end of the story is what fuels us to go on to the next chapter.

When our timeline ends at death, suffering seems purposeless.

But when our timeline extends into eternity, suffering produces hope. 

For the Christian, being told “not yet” is an act of love. “Not yet” is the gentle but firm hand on our shoulder as we try to cross a busy street. “Not yet” is the hand that wipes our tears when we get a disappointing rejection. “Not yet” is the hope of rescue we have in chronic suffering. Like a mother who dandles her child on her knee. Like a father who disciplines the child he loves. As a parent, God cares more about our character than our comfort. It is God’s loving-kindness in “not yet” that draws us to repentance. He is an intentional Creator that calls us to our customized crosses. But He does not leave us hopeless. God promises to restore decay and death for His children in eternity. But how does this truth change our daily hope?

Our daily cross-carrying is the secret to palpating Calvary for it solidifies our hope in our Savior.

Our good Savior rescues us from our inadequacy and carries us — with our crosses and all. We learn to hope in the Lord, instead of hoping in rescue from our circumstance. We are comforted by the sovereignty of God even in the darkest experiences of our lives. One day in heaven, we will thank Him for telling us “not yet” for we shall see how “yes” would have caused us to love ourselves too much. We will thank him for sparing us from a shallow gospel. 

When we understand these truths, the waiting will be less suffocating. In fact, the waiting room can even be a place of rest.

We may not have all of the answers, but we know Who holds them. Let us gather in the waiting room, each with our own chronic ailments and circumstances that are impenetrable to medication and expert advice. Let us keep our eyes focused on Jesus. He is the author of our stories and the perfecter of our faith especially in trial. Let us wait with expectancy for this deliverance in eternity. Let us encourage one another when we receive the disappointing news of “not yet.” And when it is time for our names to be called, and our waiting is over, let us run to our trustworthy Savior. For our Heavenly Father will be standing at the door, welcoming his children home. And the reunion will be sweeter because of the wait.

It will happen. Just not yet.

“Yet what we suffer now is nothing compared to the glory he will reveal to us later. For all creation is waiting eagerly for that future day when God will reveal who his children really are. Against its will, all creation was subjected to God’s curse. But with eager hope, the creation looks forward to the day when it will join God’s children in glorious freedom from death and decay. For we know that all creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. And we believers also groan, even though we have the Holy Spirit within us as a foretaste of future glory, for we long for our bodies to be released from sin and suffering. We too, wait with eager hope for the day when God will give us our full rights as his adopted children, including the new bodies he has promised us. We were given this hope when we were saved.” 

Romans 8:18-24

Rachelle Keng is a physician practicing Obstetrics & Gynecology in Charlottesville, Virginia, where she lives with her husband Michael and their two daughters. She cares deeply for people and has a passion for writing about her reflections on life and faith. Rachelle’s oldest daughter has Angelman Syndrome. Her experiences as a special needs mom are often the inspiration for her writing.

WRIM Welcomes Deb Gustafson to the Ministry Team!

Walk Right In Ministries is thrilled to welcome Deb Gustafson to our ministry team! She will be serving the WRIM community through administrative support and special projects. Her passion is to ensure people have what they need to succeed. She understands that each of us comes with a unique story and loves to watch how God uses our stories for His glory and purpose. As we introduce Deb today, we’ve asked her to tell you some of her own story and explain how she came to share in this ministry.

The Gustafson Family (left to right): Elise, Deb, Finn, Brad, and Hope.

Deb, we’re very excited to get to know you! Please tell us about your beautiful family. 

I’m very excited to be joining the team at WRIM. My husband, Brad and I have been married 20 years (on 8/18/21). We both grew up in White Bear Lake, Minnesota and were high school sweethearts. We have 3 kids – Elise (15), Hope (13), & Finn (11) and our goldendoodle, Willow. I’ve spent the last 20+ years working as an office administrator, 15 of those years from home. In addition to that role, I’ve also been blessed with the opportunity to stay home and raise our three kids, one of which I also homeschool. I also love spending time with my family and being outside in nature at our cabin.

How did you first learn about WRIM? 

I first learned about WRIM three or four years ago when a mutual friend took our two daughters, Elise and Hope, to Jammin’ Pie Fest after church one Sunday. Both girls came home super excited to share about the pies they taste-tested, the backyard dancing, and the gift bag they took home with them. Yet that wasn’t all. The thing that stood out in my mind was how they both described how friendly and kind everyone was to them, with the bonus of getting to meet Peyton’s friend Carly. 

Then shortly after that experience, we had the opportunity to watch Lisa in a video at church share about disability ministry. It was captivating and remarkable to see how the team at WRIM comes alongside families/caretakers of kids with disabilities in such a supportive and caring manner. After the video, our family was able to participate in worship with Carly and her family. You could see the WRIM vision in action throughout each member of the Jamieson family. It was an absolute gift to everyone in the room.

Willow Gustafson

What drew you to this position and community? 

Our oldest daughter Elise was diagnosed with Autism & Tourette’s during her elementary years. We found that doing school in a brick-and-mortar setting was not a good fit for her and pulled her out in 5th grade. Throughout the process of the doctor visits, therapies, school plans, meltdowns, and tears, we discovered that we couldn’t do this type of parenting alone.

God continued to show up in amazing ways to help us through each step of the process. We were able to connect with other families going through similar experiences and God blessed us with a support system that we didn’t even know we needed. This helped us all stop just surviving and start thriving.

Fast forward to today. Each summer I plan out a homeschool schedule for Elise. When I realized that she would be turning 16 this fall, it got me thinking about ways I could create a class to help her learn about different passions in addition to learning some basic job skills. When I got stuck in my planning, I decided to jump over to Facebook to do some mindless scrolling.

As I was scrolling social media, a post for a Virtual Ministry Assistant caught my eye. My first thought was, I wonder if that’s something that Elise would like to do? Then I realized that I actually knew of the business (WRIM), and a little bit about the person behind that post and her heart for others. I didn’t reach out immediately, but I did take a screen shot and saved it just in case.

As the night went on, and the planning for school continued, I kept feeling this nudging to just reach out and ask more about it for my daughter. This is not my typical response to Facebook posts. So, I knew that this was the beginning of something and that I needed to respond. What I didn’t realize in that moment, was that it was an invitation from God into something new for me.

Over the course of three weeks, that nudging turned into gathering information, reflecting, reading, praying, and lots of conversations. I couldn’t get enough. I also kept pondering all of the excuses that came to my mind of reasons why I shouldn’t do this. And yet, every devotional and prayer time was interwoven with messages of “Fix your eyes on Me, I have so much more for you.”

Those thoughts of doubt turned into thoughts of what if God is calling me into something new and uncomfortable for His purpose and plan?

It’s easy for me to get stuck in the familiar and comfortable place of my own life and inner walls, but I don’t think that’s what God wants for me. He’s calling me into a new community to help support other people in similar situations, just like He showed up for me when I needed the same support 10 years ago.

The verse that keeps resonating in me is Isaiah 30:21.

Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, “This is the way; walk in it.”

And here begins the new journey!

What are you most excited about in your role on the ministry team at WRIM? 

I love learning new things and supporting people along their life journey. Each of us comes with a unique story and I love to watch how God uses every part of our story for His glory and purpose.


Will you help us welcome Deb with a celebration of greetings and encouragement? You can send her a direct message here.

Special Needs Dad Shares Hope for a Redeemed Life

Our guest writer today is Ken Atkins, a man who grew up in the pleasant surroundings of a small North Texas dairy farm during the late 1950s. From there, he wandered through a career that included schoolteacher, newspaper writer and editor, advertising executive and construction sales. When his son Danny was born in 1992, Ken faced the life-changing reality that Danny would require full-time care for his entire life. Ken’s journey meandered through the early days of doubt and discovery about Danny’s neurological and related medical issues, over the hills and valleys of a parents’ worst fears and highest hopes, past the financial and marital issues that eventually crushed his family, and into the deep pit of lifelong struggles with alcohol and relationship addiction.

But Ken’s story doesn’t end there. Read on as Ken shares how he found transformational hope and life-saving tools in taking one step of faith at a time.


“I am a grateful follower of Jesus Christ who has been redeemed from a life of alcohol abuse.”

For nearly eight years now, that is how I have introduced myself to the small group of other men I meet with each week in Celebrate Recovery. Celebrate Recovery, also known as “CR,” is a Christ-centered, 12 step recovery program for anyone — men and women — struggling with hurt, pain or addiction of any kind. It is a program that changed my life and the lives of my two children.

But if our introduction is meant to give others a quick glimpse into the truth of who we really are, I probably should amend it to:

“Hi, my name is Ken, and I am a grateful follower of Jesus Christ raising a son with Angelman Syndrome. I have been redeemed by a loving Savior and have experienced the joy of being forced into a world that I am totally unequipped to manage on my own.”

My son, Danny, recently celebrated his 29th birthday, but developmentally he is basically a happy, healthy 2-year-old. He can’t speak or walk unassisted. He is incontinent and his basic needs must be met by someone else, which would be me, at least 95 percent of the time. Danny has been my constant companion through career changes, divorce, bankruptcy, a couple of major relocations and more emotional roller coaster rides than any amusement park.

Danny sat next to me through many of my recovery meetings. This is fitting since he was the only person in the room or the truck as I fought my single-parent battles for years with a Bible in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other.

Stock Photo: Pick-up truck parked in Wildlifepark Dulmen, Germany.

Step One in Celebrate Recovery, as well as in Alcoholics Anonymous and other recovery programs with slight wording variations, is this:

“We admitted we were powerless over our addictions and compulsive behaviors, that our lives had become unmanageable.”

One of the first and hardest lessons many parents of children with special needs learn after we get the news that our child has some physical, neurological or development issue for which there is no cure or even successful therapy, is that we are powerless. Initial attempts at denial include thoughts like: the diagnosis isn’t correct, we can fix this, we just need to look harder and do more, and God wouldn’t do this to our family. Eventually these arguments lose their sway to the preponderance of evidence that we must adjust all our thinking, hopes, plans, and dreams to this new reality.

RELATED RESOURCE: Discovery Your Course for Life, One Step at a Time by Ron Keller.

By the time we give up on our denial, we often do so out of sheer exhaustion and the depletion of our finances, if not our hope. Only then do we admit that our addictions, compulsions, or other problematic behaviors — like trying to “fix” our kids, or clinging to control over their lives, or unfettered devotion to our family’s dreams and traditions — are a greater threat to the emotional and spiritual well-being of ourselves and our children (including those without special needs) than whatever lifelong diagnosis we are confronting.

Only with that admission can our healing begin. Because only then are we ready to take the next steps in the recovery process where we come to believe that a power greater than ourselves can restore our lives to normal. It’s a new normal, to be sure. But at least it is our normal. Only then can we make the decision to turn our lives and our families, over to the care of God.

Ken coaching Danny and their adapted baseball team.

One of the many truths I have learned in Celebrate Recovery is that any addiction or compulsive behavior has its root in the same sinful place—pride. We believe that we can (and should) handle any challenge in our own strength. We think we have a God-given right to live our lives on our terms. Whether it is a drinking problem, or uncontrollable rage, or soul-shattering depression, or the physical and mental exhaustion of caring for a child with special needs, we are tempted to believe these are our issues and we can handle them.

But it was never meant to be that way.

God didn’t give us these challenges to show us how strong we are, but to show us our dependence on His strength and His faithfulness. We are entirely dependent on God to meet the special needs of our child, and our own special needs in the process. We get the joy and the honor to have a front row seat to what He can do in all our lives.

There is a saying on t-shirts at many church camps that we should, “Let Go and Let God.” In recovery, and in my life as a parent of a special needs son, I have found this message being worked out again and again.

God has blessed me and my son in many ways these past 29 years. But before He could do what He wanted to do, I had to quit trying so hard to do what I could not do.

Psalm 107:13-15
They cried to the Lord in their trouble, and he saved them from their distress. He brought them out of darkness, the utter darkness, and broke away their chains. Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for mankind.


Ken Atkins is the author of Silent Son, the story of how God turned one man’s mess into a life-giving message through his non-verbal son, Danny. Ken has been serving in Celebrate Recovery ministry leadership for more than five years. He leads men through the 12 Steps that have given him the tools and support he needed to face the challenges of raising a son with special needs. Ken and Danny enjoy multi-generational living in Newport News, Virginia, with Ken’s daughter and son-in-law.

When Lions Come, We Can Rely on Palace Training

When I was 7 years old, I was diagnosed with Ectodermal Dysplasia. I vividly remember driving to the University of Texas Health Science Center with my mother and father. I remember them telling my parents the diagnosis and prognosis. The tears rolled down my mother’s cheeks. I was terrified of the new unknown. I was told I had only developed 3 permanent teeth. Period. I began learning to follow my heavenly Father without knowing what the future would hold.

I’ll be honest, this part of my story is hard to tell. There are things about it that are extremely painful. But I want to share it because I see God’s ”palace training” in my life.

Yet, God has NOT given us a spirit of fear but of power, love, and sound mind.

1 Timothy 1:7

The phrase “palace training,” evokes ideas of unfamiliar practices and experiences we are not privy to. Only the elite living in the palace are trained to reflect the honor and respect of their king or queen.

Moses is an example of someone God put into palace training. God had a plan for his people. But to accomplish this, He needed someone with specific training. Moses’ mother placed him in a basket at the river where Pharaoh’s daughter bathed. She trusted that Moses would be part of a greater plan God would bring into motion.

Moses was a Hebrew, being raised in a palace. He was being taught the rules and persuasions of a king who would, one day, free God’s people. God was providing palace training for the man He would use to bring about the Exodus — the leading of His Chosen people to freedom and promise. 

Navigating childhood and teenage years with a noticeable disability was difficult. I was accepted into a study program at the National Institutes of Health in Bethesda Maryland. I spent most of my high school years enduring surgeries and procedures so I could have teeth. During the spring of my junior year in high school, I underwent the final surgery. It was excruciating. During my convalescence, I was homeschooled for three months.

Finally, the time came to place my prosthetic teeth. I looked in the mirror and began to cry. My gratitude was overwhelming. The healing was long and painful. As my body healed physically, God was working on a calling in my heart. I had no idea what would come, or where I would serve, but emphatically acknowledged His voice. 

I met my husband, Chris, in my junior year of high school. It was just months before my implant surgery. I was still wearing dentures. One night, he picked me up for dinner and a movie.

While we were eating, I realized he had a strange look on his face.

I asked him, “What is wrong?”

He replied,”Uhh….your tooth is gone.’ My front tooth had broken off of my denture and I hadn’t noticed.

I was mortified!

Later on, my husband told me he fell even more in love with me at that very moment. God had sent me a man that loved all of me —because of Whom I loved. 

When God takes us through palace training, the outcome is always meant to foster wisdom and courage. You see, God knew Chris and I would, one day, have two children with special needs.

God knew our children would endure countless surgeries, procedures and hospitalizations. God had prepared me, through palace training, to empathize and love these children with a honed personal experience.

It is true. I have wrestled mightily with God over the why of my special needs kids. Ultimately, I accepted the peace God brings in trusting Him even when.

Sometimes God sends a lion into our lives. Rest assured, that if he sends a lion, you will be equipped with the training to fight.

“The Lord who rescued me from the claws of the lion and the bear will rescue me from this Philistine!”

1 Samuel 17:37

In March 2016, I wrote the poem, The Lion Awaits. It is a testimony to God’s faithfulness in my life. The lions have come. But my Father has taught me well. He has trained me with strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow.

 THE  LION  AWAITS

The soul rejoices, day and night, to the peaceful presence of His strength and might.
We hear his voice in the soft still night.
“I have blessings untold,” the Messiah invites.
The heart beats out, ”the joy of the Lord is My Strength!”

An unknown test is silently delivered
         swiftly with one blow.

A soul screams, “Why? Have you forsaken me?”
The Father says, “I love you child. I let the lion come.”
The soul wails, “I will be destroyed!”
The Master soothes, “It is for your good.”
The soul fights and curses the lion.
Emmanuel says, “Stand up and face the lion, for I am with you!” 
The soul whimpers,” Why, my Lord do you stand far off?”
The Creator says, ”Stand firm that I may glory in the power of your endurance.”
“I am slain,” wept the soul!

The Redeemer said, “You must endure unbelievable pain to join me someday.”
The soul reverently surrenders, and tells the Healer,
         “When I despaired even of life, a whisper was heard.“

“You will have trouble, but I have overcome the world.”


Kelley Cagle is a freelance writer and special needs advocate with a passion for mentoring young moms who have children with special needs. Kelley shares from her own experience as the parent of two children with disabilities. Kelley has five sons. Two of her children have CHARGE Syndrome, a micro deletion affecting a multiple body systems and organs. Both boys are deaf-blind and on the Autism spectrum. Kelley and her husband Chris have been married over 26 years and live in Texas with their two youngest boys.

The Secret to Thriving, Not Surviving

It was a quiet morning at the oceanfront hotel where we were staying at Virginia Beach. The breeze off of the Atlantic Ocean gently combed the beach grass. Families of birds chased the retreating waves, their footprints too light to make any impression in the sand. I walked alongside the beach, taking in the overcast grey sky blending into the waves. The beach approached a peninsula, promising a view that would surely not disappoint.

As the beach rounded the corner, another expanse of beach came into view with the same grey watercolor. I kept on walking. The horizon continued to taunt me as I walked closer to the end of this beach segment, followed by another bay of sand to trudge through. I kept my eye on the next corner. But each corner rounded to a similar scene. It seemed to be never-ending. It was beautiful, but it was also the same view no matter the number of steps I took. 

This walk felt like my life — a “Groundhog Day” of caring for my disabled daughter. There are beautiful moments. But most days are focused on each step without seeing the view. We are dealing with many of the same issues that we have dealt with for a long time. Only now, we are older. And my daughter is now bigger. It is becoming more physically challenging to keep up. Our patience has grown greater. Our wisdom has grown deeper. But our fatigue has grown more real as well. 

On my walk, I was looking for the beauty around the corner. I wanted the AHA! moment that would allow every grain of sand in my shoe to be worth the gritty journey. But each turn of the corner proved to be more of the same.

A vertebra "shell" found on Virginia Hampton Beach
A vertebra “shell” found on Virginia Hampton Beach

Chronic suffering is being trapped in a never-ending cycle of the same. We all have a painful thorn in our side that does not let up — an unanswered prayer, a salt-wound relationship that never heals, a broken heart that cannot ever be whole, a dream we must mourn. The reality is this broken world is marred by loss. 

I want to thrive in loss. Just survival is not enough for me.

I want a thri-vival

So how do we answer the deep aching feeling that there must be more? 

For the Christian, there is more. 

The only way to understand the intersection of a suffering mankind and a good God is to interpret this life through the lens of eternity. 

The only way to find purpose in our suffering is to know that our lives exist for more than this world. The more we accept decay — and, for that matter, learn to embrace it — the more we become thrivers rather than just survivors.

Decay is everywhere.

When I was walking this beach with the repetitive view, I finally looked down. Shells, seaweed, and abandoned nettings were peppered amongst the sand. All were carcasses of life that once was. The beach is a battlefield littered with the remains of an ocean ambushing its prey. What is one’s child’s playground is the cemetery of mollusks. What is one woman’s treasured pearl is the oyster’s expulsion of waste. What is one family’s treasured keepsake of vacation, is the skeleton of a conch.

Decay co-exists with beauty.

In fact, decay is required. For the beauty that emerges from decay is richer, more fruitful, and lasts forever. Like the compost that enriches the growth of a garden, decay, disability, and death are the fertilizers of a richer beauty to come. Yet decay occurs at the same time that flowers bloom. Beauty and pain can be enwrapped in the same moment.

There is no better example of this paradox of beauty and pain than the cross. The cross is the intersection of many contrasts — injustice and justice, death and life, hatred and love, grief and celebration. When Jesus died on the cross, He did more than punch a ticket to heaven. Purposeful suffering was exemplified. 

Still, living the joy of the cross on a daily basis is not easy. Especially in the mundane everyday struggles of motherhood or caring for the disabled, suffering can feel purposeless and never-ending. We can be deceived into hopelessness if we allow emotions to overshadow truth. The energy needed for everyday surviving makes thriving seem impossible. When the days of survival mode stretch into weeks, months, and years, we must learn how to thrive in the pit. So how do we seek thri-vival?

  1. To thrive means that we change our expectations about decay. Our decay is not unique to our generation and decay will continue until this world belongs to Jesus again. We can certainly point out the decay of others, but we are often unaware of our own decay. We expect progression, not regression. And yet our society, many of our relationships, and our own bodies are fighting the natural decay that comes from the fall of man. We would like to believe that we are always getting better, but in reality, we ourselves are not immune to entropy. As our bodies and minds age, our ability to process our worlds is also dampened. But one day, this decay, too, will lead to eternal beauty. And decay will not exist in heavenly realms.
  • To thrive means we recognize our need for rescue. Grace covers our sin, for our salvation. But sanctification requires us to embrace pit-dwelling. He gives our feet a place to stand between each rung on the daily climb. This state of dependence is uncomfortable and yet necessary for our trust in God’s goodness to grow. The Gospel is lived daily in our lives when we are in a state of dependence. For our need for a Savior is often when we are at the end of ourselves. 
  • To thrive means we learn to abide in Jesus daily. We rely on His mercies to be new every morning and enough for today’s trials. We humble ourselves to be a servant rather than the source. Abiding in Jesus is trusting Him to fill in the cracks daily. Abiding involves constant connection with our Source of strength. We are emptied continuously so that He can fill us continuously. And we must ask for help. Ask for His wisdom. Ask for eyes to see His care for us. Ask for a heart of praise. And these one-second prayers build our relationship with Jesus and help us see the treasures in each exhausting step. We must sit under the Bible as a servant and not stand over the Bible as a critic. As we learn of God’s plan for the decay of this world, our souls are comforted and reassured that He has an ultimate plan for redemption. 

That is thri-vival — where pain and beauty co-exist. It is possible to be a thriver and not only a survivor. To thrive is to abide with Jesus. Because when we look only at ourselves and our circumstances, the decay is discouraging. But when we look at the cross, decay is defeated. It is in the daily struggle of chronic Christian suffering that we learn to abide. We learn to trust in the One who carries us from birth to death to eternal life. God alone sustains us.

Our walk on the beach becomes about Him, not about us nor the view that we think we deserve. 

The walk to heaven is more pleasant when we let go of the “should be” and “should not be.”  We will stop walking for the purpose of the view. We will walk because we are called to walk. And then we will start to see the treasures in every step. We will expect decay in this world rather than be disappointed by it. And one day, at the vantage point of heaven, we will look down at all of the faded footprints in the sand and we will understand why. The deepest sinking sand will be the sweetest places we thrived as we learned to abide in Christ.

This is the hope of the Christian in chronic suffering: There is more. And for today, He is enough.

“Listen to me, house of Jacob, all the remnant of the house of Israel, who have been sustained from the womb, carried along since birth. I will be the same until your old age, and I will bear you up when you turn gray. I have made you, and I will carry you. I will bear and rescue you.”

Isaiah 46:3-4

Rachelle Keng is a physician practicing Obstetrics & Gynecology in Charlottesville, Virginia, where she lives with her husband Michael and their two daughters. She cares deeply for people and has a passion for writing about her reflections on life and faith. Rachelle’s oldest daughter has Angelman Syndrome. Her experiences as a special needs mom are often the inspiration for her writing.