Tighten Up

You know how every time we go on vacation somewhere warm, or the moment it consistently hits 75+ degrees, we find ourselves saying, “I wish it could be like this year-round”? The sand between our toes, happy hours on the patio—everything that signifies it's officially summer.

Or what about when daylight savings ends? The excitement of Sunday Fundays returning and seasonal depression slowly fading away. But do you think we’d truly appreciate these transitions if we didn’t know what it felt like to live through the cold and quiet seasons?

Similarly, do you honestly believe you could genuinely appreciate the good in your life if you never experienced the bad?

Last year, within a span of six months, my car was stolen and broken into—twice. I had to get a breast biopsy, lost friends I once saw as family, and broke my leg. After each event, I asked God, “Why me? Why can’t I catch a break? What did I do to deserve this? What is this supposed to teach me?”

I started to believe that struggle was my birthright—nothing more, nothing less. My car getting stolen was the beginning of my “woe is me” era. I felt like I was drowning, unable to catch my breath. But then, Monika came into my room that night and asked, “What makes you so special that God would make you exempt from struggle?”

In the moment, I couldn’t process what she said. But later, it clicked. The Bible talks about trials and tribulations—how God will bring us through them—but it never promises we won’t face them. I’m not above struggle, and neither is anyone else.

In a perfect world, sure, I’d love to avoid pain and heartbreak. But that’s not our reality. And truthfully, if I never had to experience hardship, I don’t know if I’d be as deeply grateful when blessings do come.

Whether people want to admit it or not, without affliction, many of us wouldn’t even recognize the good—let alone give thanks for it.

Last year, I gave up on myself and on God. My mental health spiraled, and it felt like I was stuck in an endless loop of negativity. But about two months ago, I was organizing past journal entries for this blog and came across some from that time. I found myself saying, “Damn, girl, you were miserable—and it really wasn’t even that bad.”

Every problem that occurred? I got through it.The lump in my breast? Benign.My car? Recovered the same day.Losing friends? Just people being removed who were never meant to stay long-term.

At some point, you have to get tired of being miserable about everything that’s gone wrong and realize—and I know it sounds harsh—it really could be worse.

I can honestly say I’m grateful for everything I went through. Almost every hardship, every moment of pain, was necessary.I needed to learn discipline.I needed to strengthen my faith.I needed a shift in perspective.

If the only time you’re positive and hopeful is when life is going well, do you really have faith? Are you truly content?

Real contentment, real faith, and real positivity should not be conditional. They need to be part of who you are. Yes, there will be hard days—days that feel like everything is falling apart. But in those moments, ask yourself:

“Have I ever been left in a situation I couldn’t overcome?”“Haven’t I always found a way to persevere?”

Then why would this be any different?

Why focus on what went wrong when, in the end, it’s all come into alignment?

Real faith, real optimism, is knowing things will work out even when the odds appear to be against you. That’s not delusion. That’s unwavering faith. Faith that even if things don’t go as you planned, they’re still unfolding exactly as they should—and that kind of divine timing is all the perfection you need.

Shifting into this mindset isn’t easy—but it’s worth it. Be patient with yourself in the process. And even if you’ve known all this before but lost sight of it—like I did—that’s okay.

We’re human. We’re allowed to fall. What matters is that we get back up and remind ourselves that healing and growth are never linear.

Not for me.Not for you.Not for anyone.