Here’s my testimony. I can finally whisper these words.

People see survival. I remember dependence.

People often tell me, “You’re so strong. I don’t know how you’ve made it through everything you’ve been through.”

The truth is… I’m not.

There was a time when I thought I was brave and courageous. Then I found myself terrified of something as simple as another needle stick. Months of hospitals, surgeries, ICU stays, and medical trauma changed me. My body learned to expect pain. My mind learned fear.

I’ve lived through bone marrow failure, Myelodysplastic Syndrome (MDS), AML leukemia, Fanconi anemia, chemotherapy, a bone marrow transplant, terminal liver cancer, a liver transplant, countless procedures, and more diagnoses than I ever imagined I would hear.

There were seasons when I couldn’t walk.

Seasons when I couldn’t lift my own head.

Seasons when I couldn’t roll over in a hospital bed.

I depended on feeding tubes, walkers, wheelchairs, and the hands of other people for the most basic things. I had to learn to walk again.

There were weeks when I lost touch with reality. Hallucinations, confusion, anxiety, and darkness surrounded me. There were nights when I couldn’t sleep for more than an hour at a time. There were moments when I felt forgotten, misunderstood, abandoned by people I loved, bankrupt, and completely alone.

I became very good at stabilizing… and then pretending none of it had happened.

That’s what medical trauma often looks like.

But I do have a secret.

It’s the same secret David had before anyone ever heard about Goliath.

Before there was a giant, there was a lion.

Before there was a giant, there was a bear.

David didn’t discover God’s faithfulness on the battlefield. He discovered it in the private battles where no one was watching.

That has been my story.

Whenever fear has overwhelmed me…

Whenever I had no strength left…

Whenever I thought I couldn’t endure one more procedure, one more diagnosis, or one more night…

I ran to Jesus.

Not because I was strong.

Because I wasn’t.

Christ became my strength when mine was gone.

People see survival. I remember dependence.

People see courage. I remember crying out to God.

People see victories. I remember the countless times I simply whispered, “Lord, help me.”

Psalm 118 has become my testimony:

“Out of my distress I called upon Adonai; Adonai answered me and brought me into a spacious place… Adonai is my strength and my song, and He has become my salvation… I will not die, but live, and proclaim what Adonai has done.”

That is my story.

Not that I was enough.

But that Jesus was.

He brought me out of the horrible pit and the miry clay. He steadied my feet when I could not stand. He carried me when I could not walk. He remained faithful when I had nothing left to offer except a desperate prayer.

The greatest miracle in my life is not simply that I survived.

It is that through every valley, every diagnosis, every surgery, every fear, and every moment of weakness, Jesus never left me.

So if you see strength in me, you’re really seeing His faithfulness.

To God alone be the glory.

Dexter