Therapy is painful—but I keep returning. Each session pushes my wrist to its limits, leaving me squirming and struggling to endure the sharpest pain. Yet I trust my therapist’s skill and purpose. Pain, though excruciating, becomes the pathway to healing, restoration, and eventual joy. Choosing discomfort may seem counterintuitive, but the results make it worth every moment.

Cell service in my office is spotty, and my calls are often dropped. Sometimes when this happens, I am unaware until I end a sentence and wait for the other person to respond and only hear silence. Not sure if they are in thought, still waiting on me to say something else, or no longer on the line, I ask, "are you still there"? I know that I have been talking to myself when this question is met with more silence.

You may have been wondering if I am still here. It has been over a month since I have written a blog post or sent out an email. My lack of activity has not been for lack of desire but rather circumstances not entirely of my choosing.