I know that every family goes through its own challenges, but when my family was hit with what seemed like trial after trial over the course of just a few years, I started to wonder about the purpose of the timing of it all.
In the last few years, the following occurred: a tumbling accident left me in a wheelchair for more than half a year, my dad almost died from a brain hemorrhage (and lost his job a couple of times), my mother underwent a complicated surgery, I had to have a tumor removed, and my brother had to return home early from his mission because of health problems. It was a lot for our family to deal with.
In the midst of all of this, my younger sister was struggling through an intense battle with depression that was scary and confusing for all of us.
There was one point when I kind of just broke down. My parents taught me to never question why you are going through something and instead to remember that God has a plan. But I guess it was the timing that got to me. I was just afraid of how much longer it would be like this.
I can remember kneeling on the floor crying one evening in our living room. At one point, I looked up and saw a picture of Christ on the wall. And I just felt at peace at that moment. I just had this feeling that I was meant to go through all of these difficulties.
I knew it wasn’t going to be over soon, but I also knew there was a purpose in it all. I felt that God was preparing me to help others in the future—that I could be a light and example through my experiences. I knew I was going to be able to help somebody else at some point.
I saw that happen when a woman I knew at church adopted a nephew who was abandoned by his birth mother. He had behavioral issues and suffered from depression and anxiety. She kind of kept her feelings to herself, but she was struggling to make sense of it all.
I was able to share with her some of the experiences we had gone through and what we learned from my sister’s struggles with depression. She was able to open up to me. I think it helped her a lot to know there was somebody she could talk to who had dealt with similar situations. And it made me grateful for the opportunity I had to help.
Things have slowly gotten better for my sister and for all of us. Nothing is perfect, but we know we are being blessed. I try to find joy in the little things—like going on a walk with my dogs and sister on a windy, sunny day or coming home from a long day at work and spending time playing board games with my family.
We’ve become more unified as a family through everything. We were close before, but now we really appreciate things more than we used to. We look for the little things that make us smile and make us happy—a bonfire in the backyard after a long day, sitting down together for breakfast, or joking and singing together while we are in a rush working at the family pizzeria.
There are little miracles that happen all around us that we sometimes don’t realize. Too often, we focus on the big struggles, but I’m trying to take time to be thankful for all of the small miracles that happen in life as well.
My mom calls them the “little big things”—and I’m so grateful for those little big things that God blesses me with every day.