You can almost see it ahead. The Promised Land. The land flowing with milk and honey (Exodus 3:8). A land of fruitfulness and prosperity. A place with valleys and hills that drink rain from heaven and are richly watered by God (Deuteronomy 8:7-10). It's in full bloom, vibrant with beauty and color.

So, you make your way across the Jordan River. Your feet finally step onto the rich, life-giving soil. You look up, and there you see...giants. Wait, God, this is what promise looks like?

Over the past two weeks, I’ve been sharing the reflections that came after my son broke his leg back in May. At the time, people kept asking how we were doing. And I kept answering honestly: “It’s been hard. He’s in pain. I’m carrying a lot right now.” I wasn’t trying to be dramatic. I was just telling the truth.

But I noticed something. Every time I said it out loud, that things were hard, that I was tired, that I felt stretched thin, I felt this subtle fear creeping in: Was I saying too much? Was I reinforcing something I didn’t want to keep living in? Was I slipping into self-pity… just by being honest?

I didn’t want to pretend I was strong anymore. But I also didn’t want to say something about myself that would keep me down. And that’s where this whole internal struggle began.