A few years ago, I was diagnosed with a lung disease so rare that many people, including those in the medical field, had never heard of it. That alone showed how uncommon it was.

But the diagnosis did not come suddenly.

From a young age, I lived with constant sickness tied to my breathing. Endless exams. Multiple treatments. No answers. Over time, I learned to live with shortness of breath and chronic coughing. Exercise felt impossible. Even the slightest physical effort could lead to deep discomfort and exhaustion.

Breathing became something I managed, not something I enjoyed.

When the diagnosis was finally made, the results of my lung function tests were shockingly low. The doctor was genuinely surprised that I was still living my daily life without medical assistance.

The conclusion was clear and clinical. This disease is incurable. It affects the lungs mechanically. I would live with it permanently and would need ongoing medical support to clear my airways.

I could not tell whether I felt relieved that there was finally an answer or frightened by what that answer meant.

As I sat there, overwhelmed and crying out for a miracle, someone spoke to me.

Not a doctor. Not a specialist.

My Father. The One who owns me. My God.

He brought back to my memory everything I had already accomplished before the diagnosis was ever named. He reminded me of my first pregnancy, the fear of losing my breath during labor, and the miracle of enduring a long labor without medical assistance.

He showed me that the very medical results meant to define my limits were, in fact, evidence of His care.

My lung capacity was extremely low, yet I was not bedridden. I was not dependent on oxygen. I was still living fully.

I did not go to the doctor because I was failing. I went because I was still searching for answers.

That was the moment my perspective shifted.

What medicine defined as a permanent limitation, God revealed as a place where His strength had already been carrying me. My ability was never rooted in what my body could or could not do. It was rooted in Him.

I had to come into agreement with that truth.

Has the diagnosis changed since then? I continue to seek proper medical care, because stewarding this body is also an act of faithfulness. But what has changed deeply is where my faith and hope are anchored.

The woman who once could not climb stairs without exhaustion now exercises consistently. I enjoy walking. I can even do cardio, even though I still prefer strength training.

The same person who was told she was extremely vulnerable to lung infections and that common illnesses could be dangerous went through COVID and multiple flu seasons without hospitalization.

Is it because I take better care of myself than everyone else? Certainly not.

I am more mindful now that my body is God's temple, and I make choices that honor that responsibility. But I know, without question, that my ability to stand, endure, and thrive where others with this diagnosis might not is because of Him.

Do I still experience coughing or shortness of breath at times? Yes.

Do I believe God is Jehovah Rapha, the Lord who heals? Absolutely.

That is why I do not live by sight.

I do not allow what I see to define what God can do in my body or through my life. I care for my body as He asks me to, and I trust Him to sustain me so I can fulfill what He has called me to do.

His strength is made perfect in my weakness.