Author: Kevin Núñez

Every time someone sees my wheelchair for the first time, I get a lot of questions. “How much did it cost?” “Is it comfortable?” The most common one? “Do you need a license to drive that thing?”

So here are a few answers: It cost just over $50,000. No, it’s not about comfort—it’s a tool that gives me access to the world. And no, you don’t need a license to operate an electric wheelchair.

This 300-pound machine is my lifeline. I don’t love it, but I treat it with care—because I have to. It’s been five long years since I even became eligible to apply for a new one.

People often joke that it must be fun to cruise around all day. What they don’t see is the exhaustion that comes with being in the same position from the moment I wake up until I go to bed—especially on busy days. They smile when they see me recline in my chair, but they don’t realize I do it to prevent pressure sores. If I don’t, I could literally die from one.

Thanks to God’s grace, I’ve never had one—but I won’t lie, it’s my biggest fear. Even Christopher Reeve, with all his resources, passed away from a bedsore.

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

There’s a whole world of challenges most people don’t notice: Going around the block just to find one curb cut. Never being able to see over a counter. Being invisible in a crowded room—until someone bumps into me and then apologizes like it’s their worst mistake.

Please, don’t feel sorry for me. That’s not why I’m writing this. This is about awareness. About understanding.

Take care of yourself. I hope you never need a wheelchair—but if you do, maybe now you’ll have a better idea of what it means to live in one.

The Podcast

Published Books

Everyone requires assistance sometimes; I’m no exception. As some of you know, my book came out late last month. Beyond What You See, a Journey of Faith is now available on Amazon. I need people to see my heart on a page. Below, you will find a very short excerpt from that book. If you’re comfortable, please buy a copy and leave a review. Even if you don’t feel like it’s a good book, just be honest. The book is also available in audiobook As always, thank you for your time, and see you next week.

Do you remember where you sat on the first day of high school? Most travel with someone with whom you shared a mutual interest. Perhaps you shared physical characteristics. I’m chuckling as I’m writing this. In some ways, part of us have not left that lunch table. There’s an entire field of study dedicated to how humans interact with each other. People claim to be “open-minded,” but I have a little secret for you: we are like-minded, not open-minded. Sure, we can have a conversation around the water cooler. People sympathize with someone for a given time. Honestly, we only go so far outside of our comfort zone.

Folks today simply do not know how to communicate effectively. One of my favorite parts about going to Puerto Rico every summer as a boy was that I always met new family members. We would know everyone’s life stories within 20 minutes and then start dancing. On my father’s side, my grandfather was one of 10 kids! Nowadays, at all events across our nation, there’s a line of chairs up against the wall with people on their phones. Sometimes texting the person three chairs down! Theoretically, we should know each other better than ever. However, unless we see someone’s birthdays on our Facebook page, they will forget all about them. How sad is that?

In the year 2025, we all practically have instant communication. Yet there is more division and arguing amongst family and friends than ever. Before people sit down to eat, they intentionally make a list of subjects not to talk about. We have become afraid to speak to each other! Subjects that should be said are not. More importantly, topics that should be said are silenced.

Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone.

Colossians 4:5‭-‬6

My freshman year of high school was tough. Every day, I sat alone at a table, eating my cold sandwich and oversized pickle. I was the guest of honor at my very own pity party, and I was upset that my first relationship ended abruptly. My friend group dissolved in the summer between 8th and 9th grade. From the corner where I sat, I could see the entire student body. They all had to walk by me if they wanted a snack. I should have had a conversation every time someone bought a 50-cent cookie or a 75-cent honey bun from the snack bar, but I never noticed that I was seated directly parallel to it. Instead, all I did was stuff my face.