Healing, Hope, and a Bottle of Water
And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones who is my disciple, truly I tell you, that person will certainly not lose their reward. (Matthew10:42)
Eventually, I entered into a season of healing and renewal. Slowly but surely, strength began to return—not just to my body, but to my soul. The clouds of despair started to lift. I still bore the scars of what I had endured, but I also carried a deeper awareness of God’s mercy, faithfulness, and nearness—even in the silence. It was during this season that God taught me the role that suffering plays in the life of a believer. It’s not wasted. It’s not random. It’s not without purpose. Suffering refines us, humbles us, and draws us closer to the heart of Christ, who Himself was a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. Through my pain, I came to know Him in a deeper, more intimate way than ever before.
Now, God has brought me into a new season—a season of purpose and service. It began when I started praying and asking God for a purpose. Somewhere, somehow, I wanted to serve Him. But after finishing my chemo and radiation treatments, I was left weak and frail. Depression and anxiety limited my ability to engage with others. Then, one early morning as I sat in my kitchen, I heard the familiar sound of the garbage trucks outside. Every Tuesday and Friday morning, these hardworking men faithfully picked up our trash. That morning, it dawned on me—they must be hot and thirsty, especially working in the intense Central Florida heat. That simple realization stirred something in me. I quickly grabbed two bottles of water and ran outside just as they were collecting our trash. They were grateful and thanked me. That moment lit a spark in my heart. I was excited about what I jokingly called my “water ministry.” I was going to save the world one water bottle at a time!
I began offering water to everyone—the maintenance crew, lawn workers, the mailman, FedEx drivers, and even anyone who knocked on our front door. I even had the privilege of praying with some of them. God had answered my prayer. He gave me a purpose—a ministry right in my neighborhood. And as my strength returned, I began to get out more and connect with many of my neighbors. I also started thinking about other ways I could be a blessing in my community. In God’s strength—and with the support and encouragement of a neighbor and dear brother in the Lord—we launched two neighborhood Bible studies: one on Thursday evenings, a life group, comprised of believers and seekers of all ages, and with different faith backgrounds and perspectives and a men’s group that meets every Saturday morning for coffee, Bible study, and fellowship. Meeting with these groups has become one of the highlights of my week. It’s amazing to see how God takes brokenness and uses it to build bridges, bring healing to others, and to glorify Himself. I may still bear the marks of past battles, but now I walk in the joy of knowing that my life—every part of it—has purpose in His hands.