Yes, my life looks different right now. Recovery is hard, and brain cancer isn’t something I would’ve chosen. But I am still hopeful, still called, and still full of purpose.

God is still writing my story — and I can’t wait to worship Him through every part of it.

What if waiting isn’t wasted? In a season of unknowns and delayed answers, I’m learning to trust that God is still moving- even when nothing feels like it’s changing. This is what it looks like to hold onto hope in the middle of it.

WARNING -
There will be photos of my MRI at the end of this post. So if you are sensitive to that, this is my warning to you now.

I went from independence to needing help with the simplest things. Rehab wasn’t just about healing my body—it was about learning how to live again, one step at a time.

The day of my diagnosis changed everything—but nothing could have prepared me for what came next. From walking into brain surgery while my dad was in hospice, to waking up unable to move or speak, this was a season marked by grief and moments of unexpected grace. But even in the hardest hours, I wasn’t alone. This is the story of what it looked like to survive—minute by minute—and where I found God in the middle of it all.

Life can change in an instant. What started as a normal evening at church quickly turned into a moment that would reshape everything. From my first seizure to hearing the words “you have a tumour,” this is the beginning of my journey—filled with fear, faith, unknowns, and the quiet peace of knowing I’m not facing it alone.