Calm in the Storm: How a Health Scare Taught Me About Faith

I woke up with excruciating pain. I didn’t know what was wrong all I knew was that something was happening inside me that didn’t feel right. The pain was intense, and though I can be an emotional person, in that moment, I was surprisingly calm.

I went to the doctor. Evaluations began. Everything started moving quickly. The conversations, the tests, the decisions all became a blur.

I remember speaking with my manager, my minister, and my oldest son. What I said is still a little foggy and honestly, I take no responsibility for anything I said under that kind of pain. Blame the moment, not me!

Then came the diagnosis: a torn intestine.

I should’ve been terrified. I should’ve been crying. But instead, I felt peace. Calm. How? Why?

Because deep down, I knew this was part of my transformation.

Even in the middle of an emergency, I trusted that my faith no matter what direction this journey took would see me through.

From the ambulance ride to being admitted into the hospital, it all happened so fast. One moment I was just going through my usual routine moving, going, doing everything except being still. And now, suddenly, I was lying in a hospital bed.

The truth is it could’ve gone very differently. Sepsis could’ve set in. Surgery could’ve taken place. And instead of me writing this blog, an obituary could’ve been written. But God.

I’m still here.

I laid in that hospital bed, trusting that the doctors would care for me. I reflected not on what I didn’t have, or who walked away but on the good I’ve done, the love I’ve given, and the life I’ve lived. And I was proud.

I was so proud, I wasn’t even afraid of dying in those moments. I didn’t want to leave my kids, of course. But I wasn’t overcome by fear or depression. I’ve known that feeling too the kind that drains your energy, the kind that makes it hard to even get up. I’ve been there.

But at that moment in the middle of what could’ve taken me out I didn’t feel all over the place. I didn’t have any doubts. I felt grounded. At peace.It was strange… but it was real. And I’m grateful.

Could this be what transformation feels like?

Feeling in tune with your emotions. Holding space for peace even when everything says you should panic. Trusting that God is working, even when you can’t see how.

Even as they prepared me for the possibility of surgery, I held onto faith. And then the miracle.

No surgery was needed.My healing started instantly.

How? Is that even possible?

Yes, it is. Because I’m living it.

It wasn’t until days later that I was finally back home and read the doctor’s report that the weight of it all hit me. That’s when the tears finally came. That’s when I realized how serious my condition was and how differently it all could have ended.

But nope. I’m still here.

This moment reminded me: even when life feels completely out of your hands, faith is the anchor. It’s what keeps you steady when the world starts spinning.

So, if you’re walking through your own storm, I want you to remember this:

Stillness doesn’t mean giving up.It means trusting.It means praying.It means believing that healing is possible, even when it doesn’t make sense.

This is only the beginning of my transformation more to come in future blogs. But today, I’m just thankful to still be here.

I’m still here. And if you're reading this, so are you.

Belong. Grow. Become.

Reflective Question:When life pulls you into chaos, what helps you stay grounded in faith, and could your storm be part of your transformation?