Everyone has an idea of how life is supposed to go.
We make plans, set goals, build careers, raise families, and picture what the next chapter will look like. Then the hammer drops. Something happens that you never saw coming, and suddenly everything changes.
I know that feeling all too well.
In 2005, I was diagnosed with Spinal Muscular Atrophy, or SMA. It is a progressive neuromuscular disease that affects the muscles I use for everyday activities—things many people never have to think about such as climbing stairs, standing up from a chair, or getting up after a fall.
The diagnosis gave a name to something I had been dealing with for years, but it also brought uncertainty. I didn’t know exactly what SMA would mean for my future. I knew my physical abilities would change, but I had no idea to what degree. Many experts gave me a much grimmer prognosis than what I have experienced so far.
There were difficult days, angry and frustrating days, and plenty of moments when I wished life had followed a different plan. But over time, I learned something important: I may not be able to control every circumstance, but I can still decide how I respond to it.
I don’t consider myself someone who has overcome SMA. I have learned to live a full life alongside it.
That doesn’t mean I pretend the hard parts aren’t hard. It means I try not to let the hard parts become the whole story.
Strength doesn’t always look the way we expect
We often think strength means handling everything without struggling, never asking for help, or always having a positive attitude. I may have believed that once, but I don’t anymore.
Sometimes strength means admitting that something is difficult. Sometimes it means accepting help, changing the plan, or simply taking the next step, even when you are unsure where it is leading.
I have also learned that humor helps. If you know me, you know I enjoy laughing, talking with people, and probably telling a few dad jokes along the way. Humor doesn’t make the challenges disappear, but it can keep them from stealing every bit of joy from the day and, at times, even ease the pain.
My family has also been an incredible source of strength. They have walked beside me during some of life’s most unexpected seasons. Their love and support continually remind me that none of us is meant to travel through life alone—even during the times when I shut down and go to a quiet place.
Unexpected paths can lead to purpose
For a long time, I never imagined that SMA and my life experiences would eventually open doors for me to encourage other people.
My journey led me into patient advocacy, clinical trials, consulting, and becoming an MDA Ambassador. It also gave me opportunities to connect with people living with SMA and other neurological conditions.
Every conversation reminded me that people need more than information. They need to know they matter. They need encouragement from someone who understands that living with uncertainty isn’t easy.
Through those experiences, something began to change in me. I realized that the parts of my story I once might have wanted to hide could be the very parts that help someone else.
That realization helped lead me toward motivational keynote speaking.
I don’t stand in front of people because I have life completely figured out. Trust me, I don’t. I share my story because I know what it feels like when the plan changes, and I believe the way we respond can shape what happens next.
Faith became part of my next chapter
My faith has also become a greater part of my life.
Returning to church, becoming more involved in serving, and making the decision to be baptized strengthened my relationship with God and changed how I see my journey.
Faith hasn’t given me an explanation for every difficult season. It has given me hope and helped me trust that God can still create purpose from circumstances I never would have chosen.
Sometimes we want God to show us the entire plan. I know I have. But often, we are simply asked to trust Him with the next step.
That can be hard at times, especially when the path ahead is uncertain. But looking back, I can see how many unexpected moments helped lead me to people, opportunities, and a greater sense of purpose.
What will you do next?
Your unexpected turn may look completely different from mine.
It could be a health diagnosis, a family struggle, the loss of a job, a relationship that changed, or a dream that hasn’t worked out the way you wanted. You may be standing at a place in life you never expected to be, wondering what comes next.
You don’t need to have the entire answer today.
Start with the next step in front of you. Ask for help if you need it. Be willing to adjust the plan. Hold on to the people who care about you, and open your eyes to the possibility that something meaningful can still grow from this season.
Your life may look different from what you once dreamed about, but different doesn’t mean you failed. An unexpected path can still be filled with faith, family, laughter, service, and purpose.
Life doesn’t always follow the plan… but what you do next matters.