You Are Stronger Than This Moment

There are moments in life that feel bigger than us.

Moments when disappointment feels permanent.
When anxiety feels endless.
When failure feels final.
When heartbreak feels defining.

And in those moments, it’s easy to believe a dangerous lie:

“This is who I am now.”

But it isn’t.

You are stronger than this moment.
And this moment does not define your identity.

Your feelings are real.
They matter.
They deserve to be acknowledged.

But they are not permanent.

Emotions move like weather systems. Storms can feel overwhelming while you’re inside them ... dark, loud, consuming. But no storm lasts forever.

The problem isn’t that we feel deeply.
The problem is that we confuse a temporary emotional state with a permanent identity.

You are not your worst day.
You are not your anxiety spike.
You are not your mistake.
You are not your rejection.

You are a human being moving through an experience.

This week, remember one powerful distinction:

State vs. Story.

Your state says: “I feel overwhelmed.”
Your story says: “I can’t handle life.”

Your state is temporary.
Your story tries to make it permanent.

When emotion rises, pause for 90 seconds.

Don’t analyze.
Don’t react.
Don’t decide who you are.

Breathe.
Name the feeling.
Let the wave pass.

Strength is not the absence of emotion.
Strength is staying present inside it.

This is something you are going through — not something you are.

Walk into this week remembering:

You are bigger than this storm.
You are wiser than this reaction.
You are stronger than this moment.

Walk into this week like someone who knows the storm will pass.

Umbrella up. Chin up.

You’ve got this,
– srt

Resilience in the Middle of Loss and Uncertainty

Resilience used to be a word I spoke about with confidence.

I understood it. I taught it. I teach it.  I encourage others to live it.

But resilience feels very different when life touches you in a deeply personal way.

The death of my sister has challenged me in ways I never expected. Grief has a way of shaking your foundation. It slows you down. It makes you question what truly matters. It changes how you see time, relationships, and purpose.

At the same time, I am standing in another life transition. Retirement. A word that sounds like rest and reward. Yet beneath it sits a quiet question that keeps rising in my heart.

What do I do next?

Loss and transition arriving together have stretched me. One season closed without my permission. Another season closed because I chose it. Both have required resilience.

And I am learning that resilience is not about being strong all the time.

It is about being honest.

There are days when I miss my sister so deeply that it takes my breath away. There are moments when I wonder who I am outside of the structure of my career. I have asked myself questions that have no quick answers.

Who am I now
What is my purpose in this new season
How do I move forward while carrying grief

Resilience, for me, has become the willingness to sit with those questions without running from them.

It has become allowing myself to mourn without guilt.
Allowing myself to rest without fear.
Allowing myself to dream again without pressure.

I have realized that retirement is not an ending. It is an invitation. An invitation to rediscover purpose beyond titles. An invitation to explore passions that were once placed on hold. An invitation to serve in new ways.

And grief has clarified something powerful. Life is precious. Time is not promised. Love must be expressed now.

My sister’s life reminds me that impact is not measured in years but in the way we touch others. That truth is shaping how I think about what comes next.

I do not have every answer. But I do have faith. I have experience. I have wisdom earned through years of living, loving, working, and now grieving.

The Bible often speaks of forty as a season of testing, preparation, and stretching. Forty days of rain before the earth was renewed. Forty years in the wilderness before the promise. Forty days of fasting before ministry began. Forty represents the trial.

But forty one represents what comes after.

Forty one represents the step into something new. The promise fulfilled. The beginning that follows endurance.

In many ways, this season feels like my forty. A season of testing, loss, reflection, and transition. Yet I believe I am standing at day forty one. Not because the grief is gone. Not because every question has been answered. But because I trust that God does not bring us through wilderness without purpose.

Faith reminds me that this is not the end of my story. Experience reminds me that every difficult chapter has produced growth. Wisdom reminds me that God wastes nothing, not even sorrow.

Day forty-one is not loud. It is not dramatic. It is quiet courage. It is the first step forward after heartbreak. It is choosing to believe there is still purpose ahead. It is trusting that the same God who sustained me in the testing will lead me into what is next.

Instead of asking, "What do I do now that I have retired", I am beginning to ask, "Who am I called to be in this season?"

Resilience is not rushing into the next thing to avoid the discomfort of change. It is walking through change with courage. It is trusting that even when life feels uncertain, there is still purpose ahead.

I do not have every detail mapped out. But I am standing in faith. I am standing in gratitude. I am standing in expectation.

Getting up each day even when my heart is heavy.
Choosing gratitude while I heal.
Staying open to new possibilities.
Trusting that my story is not finished.

If you are walking through loss, transition, or uncertainty, know this. You are not weak for feeling unsteady. You are human.

Resilience is not about pretending you are unaffected.
It is about continuing forward, even if the steps are small.

My sister’s death has changed me.
Retirement has stretched me.
But neither has defeated me.

I am still here.
Still growing.
Still becoming.

This is my day forty-one.

And I am choosing to rise.

-srt

Cracking me up on the Harry Potter Train in Scotland

At our favorite place on this planet, Cannon Beach Oregon. 

xoxoxo Wheezer, Love Pokey

Bend, Don’t Break: The Power of Resilience

Life has a way of testing us.

Sometimes it is subtle. A disappointment, a rejection, a plan that does not work out. Other times it hits like a storm. Loss, failure, betrayal, burnout. In those moments, it can feel like everything is falling apart.

But here is the truth. Resilience is not about never falling. It is about rising every single time you do.

Resilience is the quiet strength that whispers, “Try again.”
It is the decision to keep going when quitting would be easier.
It is choosing growth over bitterness.

And the most beautiful part? Resilience is not something you are born with. It is something you build.

Struggle Is Not the Opposite of Strength

We often mistake resilience for toughness. For pretending things do not hurt. But real resilience is not denial. It is facing pain honestly and still choosing to move forward.

The strongest trees are not the ones untouched by wind. They are the ones that have bent in storms and learned how to stand again.

Every setback teaches something.

Failure teaches refinement.
Rejection teaches redirection.
Loss teaches perspective.
Hardship builds endurance.

Your struggles are not signs of weakness. They are shaping tools.

The Bible often speaks of forty as a season of testing and preparation. Forty days of rain before renewal. Forty years in the wilderness before the promise. Forty days of fasting before ministry began. Forty represents the trial.

But there is always a day after forty.

Resilience is living in your forty without losing faith in day forty-one. It is trusting that seasons of stretching are preparing you for something greater. It is believing that endurance always produces growth.

Resilience Is a Skill

Like a muscle, resilience strengthens with use. You build it when you:

Take responsibility instead of making excuses.
Learn instead of blaming.
Rest instead of quitting.
Ask for help instead of isolating.

Resilience does not mean you will not cry.
It does not mean you will not doubt.
It does not mean you will not feel tired.

It means you refuse to stay down.

Resilience is choosing faith over fear. It is choosing perspective over panic. It is choosing progress even when perfection is nowhere in sight.

The most resilient people ask one powerful question:

“What is this teaching me?”

That question turns pain into purpose.
It turns failure into feedback.
It turns obstacles into strategy.

When you stop asking, “Why is this happening to me?”
And start asking, “How can this grow me?”
Everything changes.

Faith reminds us that testing is never wasted. Experience teaches us that every difficult chapter carries a lesson. Wisdom shows us that growth often comes disguised as hardship.

Day forty one is quiet courage. It is the first step forward after discouragement. It is choosing to believe there is still purpose ahead. It is trusting that the same strength that carried you through the storm will carry you into what is next.

You Are More Capable Than You Think

Think about everything you have already survived.

There were moments you thought you would not get through but you did.
There were days you felt broken, but you kept moving.
There were chapters that hurt but you are still here.

That is resilience.

Not perfection.
Not invincibility.
Persistence.

And every time you choose courage over comfort, you reinforce the truth. You are stronger than your circumstances.

Storms do not last forever. But the strength they build does.

So, when life bends you, do not assume you are breaking. You might just be becoming.

Keep going.

This may be your forty. A season of testing, stretching, and refining. But day forty-one is coming. A season of clarity, strength, and renewed purpose.

And that is the gift of resilience.

Have a marvelous Monday,

-srt