The Advocacy Life Podcast & Blog

Category: faith

  • The church’s Disability

    The church’s Disability

    A Community Blog

    For many of us in the disability community, our relationship with faith can be incredibly complex. We love the Lord, we crave spiritual connection, but too often, the very places meant to offer solace—churches—become spaces of discomfort and judgment. It’s a paradox that weighs heavily on the soul.

    Who wants to go to church and be constantly stared at? Who wants to attend a funeral, already a time of immense grief, only to hear the pastor speak about the deceased as if they were a stranger, completely unaware of the rich life lived by the person with a disability they are meant to be celebrating? These aren’t isolated incidents; they’re common experiences that chip away at a sense of belonging.

    That’s precisely what so many well-meaning congregations don’t quite grasp. As a disabled person, when you feel that energy – the pity, the awkward glances, the unspoken questions – it actively pushes you away, no matter how much you yearn for spiritual connection. You feel like an outsider, an anomaly, rather than a cherished member of the flock. It makes you want to retreat, to seek God in the quiet solitude of your own home, far from the subtle rationalization.

    What truly frustrates me is the disconnect. People gather to praise and worship, singing about love and community, yet many remain firmly entrenched in their own safety bubbles. They’ll lift their hands in adoration but won’t extend one to say hello at fellowship. They’ll preach inclusivity but practice exclusivity, often unconsciously. The truth is, you’ll never be able to reach everyone, but that doesn’t mean we stop trying to bridge the gap between professed faith and lived acceptance. This isn’t about malice; it’s about a lack of understanding, a failure to truly see and welcome.

    My dream? I would love to walk into a congregation—or roll into it, as the case may be—and see it bustling with wheelchairs and walkers, with people of all abilities steaming with joy for God. Too often, I’ve been the only person with a disability in the church. Or, if there are others, they’re tucked away in a corner, out of sight, out of mind, so as not to “bother” the rest of the folks. This isn’t what true community looks like. This isn’t what radical love looks like.

    Matthew 18:20 NIV “ For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.”

    We need spaces where our presence isn’t an inconvenience, our bodies aren’t a spectacle, and our faith is celebrated just as vibrantly as anyone else’s. It’s about creating an environment where the spirit can truly soar, free from the burdens of judgment and isolation. We need churches willing to step out of their comfort zones, not just physically accessible buildings, but truly accessible hearts.

    A quick note for my incredible community:

    I’m currently traveling and, unfortunately, don’t have access to my podcast equipment right now. Because of this, I’ll be sharing an additional Community Blog this week to keep our conversations flowing! Until I get my podcast back up and running, you can expect these bonus Community Blogs every Wednesday. Thank you for your understanding and continued engagement!

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  • Disabled & Grateful

    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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  • A Spiritual Anecdote

    A Spiritual Anecdote

    One day a few years ago, I was walking down the Atlantic City Boardwalk with one of my caregivers. Sadly, that person is no longer with us. We had just lost a few dollars at a casino (don’t worry, it wasn’t much). Afterward, we sat on a bench, talking and enjoying the day. Then, out of nowhere, two strangers walked up to us. They asked if they could pray with us. It was an unusual request for 2 in the afternoon, but I figured, why not?

    Photo by ALTEREDSNAPS on Pexels.com

    So, I gave them my hands and closed my eyes. The man prayed out loud, saying, “Dear Lord, please bless this man so that the demons leave his body and he may walk.”

    Hi, my friend! I hope you’re doing well. What would you do if something like this happened to you? After it was over, I just said thank you, and we exchanged a few nice words. But my first instinct was to laugh! I pray all the time, but I wasn’t expecting that.

    Some people might say I’m being punished and that only God’s grace can take me out of this wheelchair. But I don’t believe that.

    I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. This isn’t a religious blog. It’s about advocacy and awareness. Talking about God shouldn’t be controversial, but I understand why it is for some people. Just like with disability, not everyone will understand.

    Here’s the thing: I couldn’t write this blog or live my life without my disability. People like me, in the disability community, have made a difference in the world—one day at a time. And no matter your faith or beliefs, we can all agree on one thing: God is perfect, and He doesn’t make mistakes.

    John 9:3 NIV [3] “Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.

    Some people ask me, “How can you say that when you’re in a wheelchair every day?”

    Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

    This is what I know to be true: Without my cerebral palsy, my family wouldn’t be as close as we are. My disability didn’t just affect me—it took all my family members, by blood and by choice, to help get me where I am today. And I think that’s true for most people with disabilities. Having a disability like mine makes you see the world differently, no matter how much you wish you could be like everyone else.

    Here’s something many people don’t realize: You will suffer in life, but you aren’t given life just to suffer. My life hasn’t been easy. I’ve had plenty of days where I’ve been frustrated with myself—and with God. It does hurt to miss out on some experiences that others get to have.

    But here’s what I’ve learned: A lot of the experiences I’ve had, and many others with disabilities have had, are things most people can’t even imagine. We aren’t given anything we can’t handle. Giving up on ourselves and others is easy. But the mission is to find the good. Living with a disability, it’s easy to focus on the bad. But we spend our lives finding the good in the darkness.

  • Joyful Discomfort

    Joyful Discomfort

    As I write this blog in late September, I feel the evening chill getting crisp. When you cannot leave the house without a late jacket or hoodie. One or two leaves have already started to change color. This kind of weather usually affects our bodies in some way. Whether that be arthritis for older folks or runny noses adjusting to the cold. My body will feel a little bit stiff for the next week or so. This week I want to try to answer a question that I get asked now and again.

    On the way into the hospital.

    “What does it feel like to have a disability?”

    I love pondering on inquiries like this because it’s a challenge both as an individual and as a writer. My short answer is I don’t know; this is my “normal.” I was born with this, Neurological condition, I will die with it. For comparison, imagine if I asked you “What it’s like being an astronaut?

    For the record, I was diagnosed at birth with Cerebral Palsy (CP). It is important to note that every person is affected differently by their disability. I can line up individuals with the diagnosis of CP and they will all have different strengths and weaknesses. A disability is like a person no two are equal.

    When you look at me it is easy to feel pity and sadness because you picture the things I can’t do. Depending on how you measure success I am a failure. I don’t have a job, I’ve never walked more than a few steps in a therapeutic setting. I need help with most personal tasks. I have not had a real kiss since before Facebook and TikTok became household names. Society has locked me into a systemic financial prison. I know this is a small blog, and a lot of people don’t read it, but I hope this post gets shared. What I’m going to say next is not going to make sense to a lot of people. 

    Romans 8:18 NIV [18] I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.
    My brother Abner and I are waiting on test results.

    “I am thankful for my disability!”

    A few weeks back I found myself in the hospital for the fourth time in 4 months. This time with a kidney stone. Fortunately, it was small and able to pass quickly and without infection. I will not deny that it was painful and not fun at the moment. There was one moment, in the hospital when it was quiet. I was able to reflect on how blessed I was and how I’ve been a blessing to others without realizing it. I’ve never cashed the paycheck, and that’s not fair, but I have made a difference with my advocacy work. I realize that my job is to plant seeds of trees that others will sit under one day. I’ve had plenty of awkward moments with new staff, trusting them with my most intimate needs, but still, there are currently two wars going on in this world, and people have forgotten all about it. Not even giving a second thought to the widows and the children affected by these global conflicts.

    I’ll be the first to admit that some days I get lonely, but isn’t it better to wait for the right person than knowing a partner is cheating on me? It is wrong that I can only have no more than $2,000 in my bank account at any one time, but if you go to your local Walmart, you can see both the mentally obese and the malnourished. I will always fight for the rights of those with disabilities, but tell me how in the richest, most powerful nation on Earth, we have veterans who have served this country openly, choosing to live homeless because they don’t want to scare their families due to their mental illness.

    Life is a matter of perspective. I know I don’t live for this world; I live for the next one, where I will openly walk and dance. I feel sadness for those so stuck in this world that they don’t realize a glorious World is waiting for them.

  • The Faith Choice

    The Faith Choice

    I know today is Thursday. My blogs usually come out on Wednesdays but since the first of the month falls on a Wednesday, my podcast is automatically released on the first and 15th of every month I decided to push this one back a day.

    ‭Hebrews 11:1 NIV‬  Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.

    Ever heard the saying, ‘Seeing isn’t believing; believing is seeing’? It’s from the movie ‘The Santa Clause.’ While the movie is just okay, that one line always sticks with me. I hope you’re all having a safe and happy week. I’m writing this on Good Friday, though you’ll read it later. I tend to write ahead of time, so that’s why.

    Now, I don’t consider myself super religious, but I do believe in something bigger than us. Once, someone asked me how I could believe in God. My answer? ‘I couldn’t imagine life without Him.’ It’s kind of scary to talk about this sometimes; I never want to offend anyone. But talking about faith seems to stir up trouble these days, which is too bad. Here’s what I think: faith isn’t supposed to be easy. We all find our own way, no matter what we believe in. Disability has affected every part of my life, including my faith journey.

    We’re often told that hard work pays off. Well, let me tell you, I’ve tried to go to college three times, and each time, life got in the way. From having a good GPA and making the Dean’s List to starting over because my credits didn’t transfer – it was tough. But years later, when I did my first interview for a state disability magazine, I finally saw the impact of my efforts. We get so caught up in everyday stuff that we forget to look at the big picture sometimes.

    Sure, I get asked the same questions over and over again, but that’s how change happens – one person at a time. Not everyone will get you; some people just don’t understand. I’ve had people literally run away from me when I try to talk to them. The world can be a tough place. But for every person who doesn’t understand, there are three others who want to listen and see you for who you are. Faith, to me, is about choosing to see the good in people before anything else.

    I’m not some religious leader or anything like that. I don’t go to church as much as I probably should, and I swear more than I should, too. But nothing hurts more than realizing I’m asking for help when I see my caregiver is tired. There are days when I’d give anything to walk again. But when I think about the impact one person can have, I’m reminded that maybe there’s a plan for all of us, even in tough times.

    So, here’s to facing life’s challenges with faith as our guide, believing that there’s a purpose behind everything, even when things seem really hard.”

  • The why of my life

    The why of my life

    The other day I was asked, “Why do you choose to volunteer and advocate for others instead of looking for a paid job?” this is very simple yet complex question, at least for me. It made my heart so joyful to answer this question. I wish I could tell you I remember exactly what I said, but now that I’ve had some time to think about it, I want to give the real answer. I didn’t lie to the person who gave me the interview; I just didn’t go into a lot of detail.

    The short answer is that I cannot get paid because I would lose my social security, which I need to live In addition, I am the vice chair of the New Jersey Council on Developmental Disabilities, and according to the bylaws, we are not allowed to make a profit from this position. The same goes for my position with SABE, a national advocacy board for individuals with disabilities. My days are long, but I could not be any happier.

    People will never understand this, but my disability is not a curse or punishment from God. It is a platform to be the voice for others who have no one to fight for them. The other day, I had to meet with a congressman’s staff. They made me sit at the head of the table because someone else mentioned,’ Kevin had to go first; he is the rock star. I quickly corrected that I was just a nobody. I could not believe what I was doing. That night, I went to bed with tears in my eyes and a full heart.

    ‭Ephesians 2:8-9 NIV‬ [8] For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— [9] not by works, so that no one can boast.

    A Disability advocates do not get a lot of women. I do not look good on dating apps. The most money I’ve made was a gift card for doing something unofficial for a colleague. My body always hurts at the end of the day it can be lonely because most of the time I’m the only disabled person in the room. Sometimes I do feel the weight of a community on my shoulders. When I have these moments I look to my Bible. I don’t have any weight on me because someone else is holding up for me. I’m just a tool. Do I deserve to be this tool?

    No, I don’t. I don’t deserve any blessings. I’m sure I have days when I’ll complain. at the end of each day, I remembered to be grateful because I Was chosen to do the work of my big brother Jesus. That is wonderful! Friends, don’t get so caught up with your narrow view of the world that you forget to look at the big picture. There’s always someone that needs help. Make sure you do your part. Thanks for your time see you next week.

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  • A Disabled Father

    A Disabled Father

    Happy Wednesday Good people I hope everyone is having a wonderful week. This week I was planning to do a whole blog about the new rules the Department of Transportation (DOT) is hoping to implement to help disabled travelers when they are traveling on airplanes. I read a few articles and even drafted a few lines, but I wasn’t feeling it. It was written without love. So I went back and rewrote something I wrote back in 2020. All these years later, it’s still one of my favorite pieces of writing. You can find the original version in my first publication, Confessions from DisabilityLimbo. I hope you enjoy it. See you next week! 

    ‭‭Exodus 20:12 NIV‬‬ [12] “Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you.

    Hi there, I’m Kevin Nuñez, and I’m all about standing up for people with disabilities in New Jersey. I’ve got Cerebral Palsy, but that hasn’t stopped me from joining state committees to make life better for folks like me and our families. Now, I get it—when you saw the title of this blog, you probably laughed or rolled your eyes. “How could a guy like me be a dad? Can I even handle changing diapers or holding a baby without dropping them?” Sound familiar? You might’ve even thought, “This is too far-fetched. Let’s talk about something else.”

    Let’s clear the air. I don’t have all the answers. I’m what you call a “realistic optimist.” That means I know how tough life can be, but I’m always on the lookout for the good stuff. I’m 33 years old, and it’s been forever since I went on a real date. So yeah, the chances of me becoming a dad anytime soon are pretty slim. But here’s the thing: life isn’t just about having all the answers. It’s about the journey, about keeping hope alive even when the odds are stacked against you.

    I know not everyone with a disability can have kids. It’s complicated, and I get that. This blog might not resonate with everyone, and that’s okay. All I want is to start a conversation—maybe even one you’ll have at your next family dinner.

    Hey, William Christopher,

    I’ve been holding onto this until you turned 18 because I want you to know how much you mean to me. I wrote this back in 2020, when everyone was thinking about their lives. It was before I met your mom, back when I had all this love in my heart but no one to share it with. So even though I might not be the perfect dad, I want you to know that I’ve always loved you.

    I can’t wait to be there for all your big moments—teaching you to ride a bike, helping you up when you fall. I’m not sure how we’ll figure it all out, but we will. And hey, you’re going to be bilingual—English and Spanish. Trust me, it’ll come in handy someday when you’re filling out job applications.

    It’s not going to be easy when people stare at us in public, but you’ve always handled it like a champ. I’m looking forward to watching baseball games with you and having fun wrestling matches, even if you know it’s all staged. Just remember to balance the fun stuff with hard work, and always treat everyone with kindness and respect.

    Happy 18th birthday, buddy. Make it a good one.

    Lots of love,

    Dad Kevin

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  • A Believer

    A Believer

    You may have noticed that the title of this blog is “A Believer. No, it’s not a profile on Imagine Dragons. I’m certainly not going to sing the song for you. This post would get flagged for inappropriate content if I did. “I live by faith, not by sight.” I want to tell you three things that I believe will happen in my life. I have no logical reason to tell you why these things will happen; in fact, the odds are none of them ever will. However, as Han Solo once said, “Never tell me the odds!” I’ve learned that this life is a journey. The problem is that most people give up on their journeys because they don’t get immediate satisfaction. The greatest things take time and effort. 

    ‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭5:7‬ ‭NIV‬‬ For we live by faith, not by sight.

    My dad is a gigantic Mets fan. To his disappointment, I grew up a Yankees fan because all my friends were Yankees fans growing up in the mid-to-late 90s. I wonder how many followers I just lost by admitting that. Anyway, when Mets catcher Mike Piazza was inducted into the Hall of Fame, I watched it with my father. I can’t remember a word of what Piazza’s speech was, but I remember his father crying like a baby just because he was so proud of his son. Obviously, there is no Hall of Fame for the work I do, but if one day I get some sort of award, I believe I will give a speech in Spanglish and make my whole family cry. Parents and grandparents, please bring your tissues. The day is coming.

    “You will find someone one day.” I find it really annoying when people say this to me, presumably because I have heard it since I was 17, and since I am 36, I am running out of “some days.” It is difficult to hope for someone special because it gets harder and harder to put yourself out there every time. I know I’m not alone. I also know that it can happen. I’ve seen it with my own eyes and experienced it to some extent. If the Israelites can walk 40 years in the desert, then I can wait a little longer. I think I will spend the next 24 hours just talking and getting to know a kind woman. I do not care if she spends the entire evening in a hazmat suit while curled up on her bed, as long as she can see the true me. What matters is the connection, not the sex.

    The final one is somewhat, but not truly, new. I envision myself and my brother living in a house that is more like a duplex, where we can be together but still have our own space, or at the very least, be close enough to one another to be able to see one another when necessary. Without a doubt, my brother is smarter than I am. He is capable of directing his own care, so in some ways he can take care of himself. He reminds me of things most of the time. The issue is that, with the amount of support and physical accommodations, it’s extremely expensive. People never realize how expensive it is to actually have a disability. Disability is big business.

    I know some of you think after reading this that I’m nothing but an ignorant fool, and I fully understand if you believe that none of this will happen to me. I know most days it’s hard to believe, but that’s why we have to believe. I can’t get the award for my family if I don’t put in the years of work for others first. No girl is going to show up at my front door waiting for me to take her away to a magic castle. The Extreme Makeover Home Edition TV show will not show up on my front lawn to design a house for my brother and me. I have to take the journey through all the highs and lows. It will not be easy, but nothing worth doing ever is. Please tell me in the comments: What do you believe? Thanks for reading, and have a great day.

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  • Spiritual Breakthrough

    Spiritual Breakthrough

    Hello readers, I hope everyone had a safe and happy holiday season. Thank you for spending a few minutes of your busy day with me. I had a really nice moment that I want to share with you all today. Before I do, let me just give a quick recap of who I am and my mission for this website, in case I have any new visitors.

    My name is Kevin, and I’m a Puerto Rican male living with cerebral palsy from New Jersey. I serve on various state and national boards advocating for people with disabilities. The purpose of this website is to create conversations about faith, society, and disability. The Purposely Broken World produces two episodes a month. On the 1st and 15th of every month. With the accompanying blogs every Wednesday. In addition, every so often, I have a few contributors that add to the website. For example, Miss Betzy Lee hosts the Living the Extraordinary Life Podcast.

    I will never charge for any work produced on this site. If you enjoy it, please leave me a few dollars in my Cash app or PayPal. There is also a link to support the podcast directly. Think of me as a musician just playing a song on the street. All links are above every post.

    As a writer, I’m always finding myself in front of a keyboard, typing my way through an idea. It may not surprise you to find out that I have a journal where I write letters to Jesus. Essentially, they are my prayers. On rare occasions, I share them with a friend. After reading it, I was asked a simple question: “Why don’t you ask God to help you walk?”

    This might sound naive or even strange, but I never gave it much thought. Once, when I was down the Atlantic City boardwalk, two inebriated gentlemen asked to pray over me. I didn’t want to be rude, and prayer is always good, so of course I said yes. They prayed that the demon would leave my body so I could walk. This was years before I was saved, so I didn’t take it seriously. Truthfully, I thought it was a bit rude. After all, they didn’t even say my name when they prayed.

    I will not lie my disability can be exhausting. People think it’s all about not walking and not being able to do stuff. There is no day off, which can be annoying, but it is what keeps me up at night. Even the best mother has been known to hide in her bathtub for a few extra minutes. Any dad will admit that they have stayed in the driveway of their house just to finish a song before going in. I can’t go for a run when I feel stressed. Physical therapy is not the same thing as a workout at the gym. Like most people, when I pray, I ask for my family, my friends, and a loving partner to accept me. Here is a fact: God is not a genie. One of the biggest challenges as a Christian is accepting his will over your own.

    I do not believe that God is not punishing me. I don’t believe I deserve to walk. My life purpose is to accept the gift of grace he’s giving me. I don’t have perfect faith. I also know that I don’t need to have perfect faith. I realized by thinking about this simple question that I’m not the man I used to be, nor am I the man I want to be. I think a lot of people like to pretend and lie to themselves about how strong they are in their faith as if they could show it off on Instagram. It’s okay to say you don’t understand God’s plan right now. It’s okay to say I’m willing to be God’s miracle. A miracle is more than just splitting the sea. It’s answering a text from my friend. It’s buying someone dinner. It’s doing a Bible plan with a friend. Faith is laughing until your ribs hurt. Faith is not being afraid to ugly cry.

    I can’t say I’ve ever seen myself walking down the street. However, I never thought I’d be going to Washington DC, regularly to be the voice for others. I just made the arrangements for my next trip in April. I know I’m going to dance with Jesus one day. That’s what faith means to me. At the age of 36, here’s my new prayer.

    ‭‭John‬ ‭9:1‭-‬3‬ ‭NIV‬‬ [1] As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. [2] His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” [3] “Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.

    “Jesus,

    My Lord and Savior. The keeper and protector of my faith. It would be wonderful to run, jump, and take showers by myself. If you’re willing, may I be healed physically so I may be able to do things like everyone else? So my life won’t be so hard.

    More importantly, may I be healed spiritually. So that I may be a miracle for your glory to help others. My life may not be easy, but because of this journey you gave me, I’ve done more than I ever thought I would. I’ve surprised so many people, including myself. Keep the devil from me so I may continue to thrive. My life can get lonely, but I know that with you by my side, there will never be a moment alone. In the name of Jesus Christ, I say

    Amen

    Thank you to anyone who took the time to read this very personal testimony. Have a good day. Tell me in the comments: What do you pray for?

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