My father came from very little. At just fifteen years old, he dropped out of school to work and help provide for his family. He was one of seven children, and his father passed away when he was only eight. Later in life, he earned his GED and went on to build a very successful construction company. He worked tirelessly every day to provide for us.
Work wasn’t just about provision—it was about stability. Coming from so little made him determined to never return to that place.
That mindset often carries a quiet pride—one that develops without us even realizing it. Over time, that pride can become overpowering, passed down through generations, and what once felt like strength can slowly turn into weakness.
That generational strength was a gift, but it was also something God would eventually ask me to surrender. Before I even knew it, those values were already shaping how I viewed work, provision, and responsibility—and ultimately, how my husband and I would build our life together.
My husband and I were married at twenty-two and twenty-three. We bought our first home during our engagement. He was in an electrical apprenticeship, and I began dental hygiene school just one month after we said “I do.” Hard work, self-reliance, and achieving our dreams were deeply ingrained in us. We believed that if we worked hard enough, planned well enough, and stayed disciplined, we could build the life we envisioned.
Then our daughter was diagnosed.
In an instant, everything we thought we could manage on our own was undone.
Immediately, our family and friends stepped in and began carrying our burden alongside us. They raised funds to help cover expenses when we couldn’t work and to
support her treatment. Because we had worked so hard to provide for ourselves and build a foundation for our family, accepting help was difficult at first.
But the truth is, the road ahead was unimaginable. Without their love, generosity, and support, I’m not sure how we would have made it to where we are today.
Scripture reminds us that two are better than one—and three are even better. For us, it wasn’t just two or three. It was hundreds. Hundreds who showed up. Who prayed. Who gave. Who stood beside us when we could barely stand ourselves. They were, and continue to be, the hands and feet of Jesus here on earth.
All of us come from different backgrounds, and those backgrounds shape much of who we become. But God never intended us to walk our hardest roads alone.
When we carry one another’s burdens, we reflect the heart of Christ. When we allow others to carry ours, we honor the way God designed His body to function—together.
This is what it looks like when Heaven meets earth.
Not in perfection, but in presence.
Not in self-sufficiency, but in love shared freely—just as Jesus intended.
Ecclesiastes 4:9–12 (NLT)
“If one person falls, the other can reach out and help… A person standing alone can be attacked and defeated, but two can stand back-to-back and conquer. Three are even better, for a triple-braided cord is not easily broken.”
Galatians 6:2 (NIV)
“Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”