a walker named Simon

One of the questions I went to Speak Up 2026 with was
"How do you catch your breath after experiencing traumatic events that quiets your voice?"  

I feel like the last 3-4 years of health issues has caused me to say, "I just can't catch my breath." I haven't lost my voice, but I've lost the breath that gives my voice support. It's coming back -- slowly, but I was looking for some wisdom to bring it back faster.

Through the course of the weekend, that question was somewhat answered. But on Saturday I had the opportunity to interview several leaders in the field and some new things came up. Aspects I didn't even realize were stealing my breath. I knew my health was an issue. I knew I had very little stamina because of it, and that I needed to stretch my lungs, you know, fill my lungs with air as I walk or something like that. But I always knew there was more to it than that.

One of the conversations that impacted me was just a "random" meeting in a hall, which, you know, is never random. I used a walker during our time there, which I resented.  The first year I went to Speak UP 2024, I had a wheelchair. The next year, 2025, I was using a walker. A year ago, when I left the 2025 conference, I did not think I would show up with a walker at SpeakUP 2026. I was going to be walking straight. If I needed a cane, fine, but I was going to show up walking tall. This year was NOT going to be a walker.

But… I just didn't have the energy to maneuver for a very full day without it.  It wasn't like there was a lot of distances for anything but I just needed extra support. Plus the Walker had a basket on it so I didn't have to physically carry a bag or books or whatever I had.  

So I had this walker.

On Friday morning, the second morning of the conference, I walked out into the hall full of people weaving in and out. I was looking for the next breakout room that I was supposed to go to and I came up next to the only other woman at the conference with a walker. I had seen her before, though I hadn't necessarily talked to her. But I had had seen her go by. I noticed she had a walker that was fitted to her, that suited her. She needed her walker. I didn't need mine. At least I didn't want to need mine. I sure wasn't gonna need mine next year. But this year, here we stood side by side.

She smiled at me, and I noticed a glow about her. She cheerfully said, "Hey, we're twins", nodding to the walker. I smiled but wasn't sure the right way to respond. I certainly wasn't as excited about it as she seemed to be.  She continued, "what's the name of your walker?" I said, rather defiantly, "I don't like mine enough to give it a name."

Right away she responded, "oh no, no. You've got to make friends with this."  She introduced me to Simon. "I've named mine Simon, - --- after Simon of Cyrene, who carried Jesus's cross and helped him get where he needed to go to do what the Father called him to do. My Simon helps me get where I need to go, so I can do what the Father has called me to do."

We talked a short time more and as she walked away, she turned, "Just remember we walk differently than the others, and that makes all the difference."

I stood there in the middle of that busy hallway with my unnamed walker, and I quietly whispered to myself "that does make a difference."

As I pondered our conversation, it occurred to me that I had already had someone came up to me that I had met two years ago, when I was in a wheelchair getting wheeled around because I just didn't have strength enough to walk. She said, "I remember you. You were in my speaker group. You gave your three minute message, and you were so impactful. Afterwards, when we were talking about the evaluation of it, and you said how embarrassed you were that you had to sit down and everybody else was standing. We all commented that we hadn't noticed you were sitting.  I remember you thinking that that was such a bad thing, and yet you made your message was so clear and it was so good. I think we told you then, 'don't let it keep you from giving your message just because you can't stand."

Other people had commented just today, "I remember you because you had a walker." Ugh!  I want to be remembered because I'm polished and got my act together, so to speak. But these people are remembering me because I walk "different", and that makes all the difference.

I heard the Holy Spirit speak to my heart, "Let me use this. Let me do in you through your illness, through your health issues, through your using a walker, what you could not do otherwise." Hmm?

I realized that my attitude toward the walker was something that was taking my breath away from my voice. And I thought was disqualifying me from my message in some way, though I hadn't put all that together yet.

That one 'random' conversation, along with a myriad of other opportunities that presented themselves, filled in and filled out the answer to my question, "how do you get your voice back when you've lost your breath to use it?

The things we resent often become the very things God uses to support our calling. Until we stop fighting them, they continue to steal our breath. When we make peace with them—not because we love them, but because God can use them—they stop becoming barriers and begin becoming bridges.

NOTE:  The morning after the conference, Simon's owner- the woman I thought was glowing that had spoken so decidedly into my attitude toward my walker, posted this.
 

Can I be honest? I showed up at this year's conference desperately dry in my spirit. Last year (2025) was the hardest of my life personally, and the last ten months have been grueling physically. I hardly ever get to attend church in person, and at times, the yearning in my heart for spiritual community and corporate worship is physically painful.
 

During the opening worship session of the conference, Jesus spoke to my spirit in the kindest, most personal way, giving me the answer to a question I've been asking him for forty years. Forty years!
 

Then so many of you greeted me, hugged me, thanked me for times I'd blessed you in the past, asked me how I was doing with genuine care, and prayed for me, flooding--and I do mean flooding--my spirit with love and friendship and giving me a taste of heaven. 
 

I am thoroughly refreshed, have a new vision, and am so, so grateful to Bonnie and Carol for the opportunity to serve, meet authors, and be ministered to this weekend. A weight I've carried in my spirit for decades has been lifted. I truly love you all!

I did not see the pain of her past year. I saw a glow and a heart that radiated what the Lord has been doing in her! And what He did in me because of a random introduction to a walker named Simon became a bridge for me. 

and that has made so much difference!

(No, I haven't named my walker yet,  But I do appreciate the support that it gave me.)