The People Who Hold Up Our Mirror

Had a conversation with a friend today. Funny thing is, I was in the middle of writing a completely different blog post than the one I have for you today. But once we talked, I couldn’t shake the weight of our exchange. It felt like one of those moments you don’t want to lose to memory alone.

The truth is, I never really pictured myself writing for others to read. Putting words on paper is one thing, but letting the world peek through the window? That feels like standing exposed, naked in my truths and afraid of what people will think when they see me this way.

But here’s the part that keeps me writing anyway: I believe God places people in our path for reasons we don’t always understand. Sometimes they’re not here to teach you a lesson in the obvious sense, they’re here to remind you of who you are, and that He’s walking alongside you. I’m not the most traditional believer. Organized religion never fully spoke to me. Still, I can’t deny that certain connections run deeper than surface, brushing up against the soul in ways words barely capture.

My journey began long before multiple sclerosis came storming into my life and flipped everything upside down. Struggle, trauma, loss, self-destruction, I’ve sat with all of it. But when I sit with my friend, we don’t dwell on pain. We end up talking about gratitude, about how God moves through us and blesses us even when life feels heavy.

And maybe that’s the point. Maybe these people who enter our lives aren’t random at all. They’re living reminders that we’re never really walking alone.

What stayed with me after that conversation wasn’t just the words, it was the reminder that people themselves can be messages from God. We look for signs in the sky, answers in books, or some booming voice to show us the way. But more often than not, it’s the person sitting across from you, laughing with you, or even challenging you, who carries the reminder that He hasn’t gone anywhere.

My friend didn’t try to fix me or give me some profound sermon. Instead, the simplicity of their gratitude, the way they saw God moving in the everyday, reminded me that blessings don’t always wear grand clothes. Sometimes they show up in the form of a listening ear, a shared story, or a quiet moment that re-centers you.

When I think about the hardships I’ve carried struggle, illness, loss, it would be easy to let them define me. But gratitude changes the lens. It doesn’t erase the pain, but it shifts the focus. It says: yes, this happened, but look at what else happened too. Look at who walked in when you thought you were alone. Look at the way love still found you.

That’s what these connections do. They peel back the noise of life and point you straight to the truth: God is present, not just in church or holy texts, but in the people who remind you of your worth, who hold up a mirror so you can see yourself more clearly. And every time I encounter that, I feel less afraid to share my story because my story isn’t just mine. It’s a collection of all the people God has placed along the way.  

A special sincere thank you to those who read my blogs, and are moved by my words. I do this not only for you but for me to leave something behind to remember me by. I love you and I hope you love me too.