06/01/2026
Magnolia’s Moment of Grace
Today’s moment is a vulnerable one.
For seventeen years I have been living with health struggles that began with what was supposed to be a simple surgery and a daily pill. They promised an easy fix. The reality reshaped my life before I ever had the chance to really live it.
Nine of those years have been an infertility journey with my husband. My body has thrown me around and beaten me down in ways I never saw coming. I have sat across from doctors, in Vegas and here at home, who treated me like a number instead of a person. I have researched, questioned, and fought in rooms where I should have been able to simply trust the people meant to care for me. My most recent specialist recommended cutting things out of me before we ever tried anything less invasive. When I pushed for what I had researched, the answer was yes, but only while surgery was already on the schedule. The lowest dose. No follow-up tests. I had to call and order those myself.
So here is where I am honest with you. I know God is good. I know He is always with us. I know He has a plan. Still, I struggle.
I struggle with letting go of control. With believing I have to do more and be more, as if how well I perform is what makes me valuable and loved. I struggle with the questions I cannot answer. Why does God allow sickness? Why do children get cancer? Why are babies lost before they ever have the chance to fight? Why do good and honest people carry so much?
I am scared. I am tired. I am sick of being sick. I keep wondering how I am supposed to lay all of this at His feet when I am the one who has to fight, advocate, research, and call. How do I trust that what I am doing is His will when I carry this much doubt?
Full transparency: I have also been angry. That is not who I am, and I am fighting it. I do not even feel like I have the right to this anger, but it is real, and pretending it isn’t there has never once made it leave. I am struggling with my faith and holding onto it at the very same time, and I cannot fully explain how both can be true. It is confusing. But I am starting to believe there is room in faith for that, too.
The psalmists raged. Job demanded answers. Jacob wrestled through the night and walked away blessed, not condemned. Maybe wrestling with God is not the same as letting go of Him.
I do not have it figured out. I am learning that laying it down does not mean I stop showing up for myself. Advocating for my own care is not a lack of faith, it is stewardship of the body He gave me. Scripture calls this body a temple of the Holy Spirit, something I was entrusted with rather than something I earned, 1 Corinthians 6:19–20. And grace was never something I had to earn by doing everything perfectly.
“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’” 2 Corinthians 12:9 (NIV)
His power is made perfect in weakness. Not in my control. Not in my striving. In the very places where I feel most worn down.
I am also learning that I do not have to carry the prayers perfectly either. When I do not even have the words, Romans 8:26 tells me the Spirit intercedes for me. The fighting and the surrender are not opposites. I can do both in the same breath.
So today I am not coming to you with answers. I am coming with open hands. If you are carrying something heavy, something that has stretched on far longer than you ever thought you could bear, you are not alone. I would be grateful for your moment of grace and if you have walked a road like this, your wisdom too.
