Disabled & Grateful

“I’m thankful for my struggles because they revealed my gifts.”

Hey friends, I hope you’re having an outstanding day.

The quote above is from a meme I posted years ago on a random Friday night. I completely forgot about it—until it popped up in my memories recently. When I saw it, I paused. It hit me differently this time. And what I’m about to say next might annoy some people. I might even lose a few followers over it. But I have to be honest. I’ve never actually said this out loud—so I’m using voice dictation just to get it out:

“Thank you, Father God, for giving me Cerebral Palsy.”

1 Thessalonians 5:18 NIV [18] give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.

Still reading? If you think I’ve lost it, give me a minute to explain.

Like most people, I spend too much time on social media, especially since I started this blog. I haven’t made a single dollar from anything I’ve posted (as I promised myself from day one), but let’s be real: if you want people besides your grandma, cousins, and a few loyal friends to read your content, this is one of the few ways.

I know social media is a battleground now—red team vs. blue team, constant opinions, arguments, and sides. But that’s not what bothers me. Everyone’s entitled to their perspective. I’m not going to stop being friends with someone just because we disagree.

What does hit hard, though, are the subtle (and not-so-subtle) reminders of the expectations society places on us. At 37, I’m not young anymore—but I’m not old either. I’m not even considered middle-aged. It’s this strange in-between stage, this unspoken limbo.

When you scroll past all the politics and noise, you’ll find the beautiful things: baby announcements, first day of school photos, wedding pictures, memes about hating jobs and loving new homes.

And then… there’s me.

No kids. No house. No wedding photos to share.

But please—don’t pity me. And don’t call me a martyr.

It took me a long time to understand that I was created on purpose for a specific purpose. Yes, there are hard days. Life isn’t fair. And a lot of people just don’t get me. But here’s the truth: if I didn’t have this disability, I wouldn’t be writing this blog.

There are plenty of writers—disabled and able-bodied—but none of them have my story. My perspective. And that makes this blog uniquely mine.

I don’t waste time playing the “what if” game. I focus on what is and what can be. The closest I’ve come to “what if” is something my brother and I once agreed on: without our disability, we probably wouldn’t be as humble, patient, or grounded as we are today.

Disability changes how you see the world. It gives you strength you can’t explain. Honestly, I can only call it what it is: God’s grace.

Because of it, I’ve seen the best—and the worst—in people.

When I first started this blog, I thought it would be strictly about disability policy. But sometimes, you can’t ignore when something bigger is working through you. If it weren’t for one of my transition coordinators, I would’ve never joined that leadership training series that launched me into disability advocacy.

I ended up in a day program for the majority of my twenties I did not like it. I thought it was for those who are forgotten. I was so determined to go to college, just to prove everyone wrong. Fast forward, and now I have parents thanking me for bringing their concerns to legislators, on behalf of the children and adults who can’t speak for themselves.

Do I still have things I want? Of course. That’s what it means to be human. But growing, learning, and discovering new strengths is also part of the human journey.

I pray these words reach you in whatever way you need them to.

I thank God for creating you—and for all the gifts He’s given you, whether you’ve discovered them yet or not.

Have a great day, and I hope to see you next time.

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