Accepting WITH GRACE

A Midnight Thoughts Reflection

Welcome

Welcome, friends, to Breath By Breath With ALS.

This is Midnight Thoughts, where I share the reflections that come to me in the stillness of the night, when the world is quiet and the heart speaks the loudest.

Tonight, I want to talk about something that sounds simple but has become one of the most difficult lessons of my life: accepting with grace.

Not accepting because I am happy with what has happened. Not accepting because I have stopped grieving what I have lost. But accepting because I am learning that even in a life I never would have chosen, the grace of God is still present.

And sometimes, that grace is the only thing holding me together.

When Acceptance Feels Impossible

There was a time when I believed I could overcome almost anything through determination and hard work.

When something broke, I fixed it. When I faced a challenge, I found a way around it. I enjoyed working with my hands, building things, flying airplanes, and living life with a sense of freedom and independence.

I never imagined a day would come when I could no longer do those things.

Then ALS entered my life.

Little by little, the abilities I had taken for granted began to disappear. Walking became impossible. My hands stopped obeying me. Eventually, I lost my ability to speak, swallow, and breathe on my own.

Today, I depend on a ventilator to keep me alive and an eye-gaze computer to communicate with the world.

There is no easy way to accept that.

I can remember the freedom I once had. I can remember climbing into an airplane, working in my shop, and doing the simplest things without asking another person for help.

Those memories are precious to me. But sometimes they hurt, because I remember what life was like before ALS, and I know I cannot simply return to it.

The Struggle Between Acceptance and Grief

There are mornings when I lie awake long before anyone else in the house.

The steady sound of my ventilator fills the silence, and my mind begins to wander. Sometimes I think about everything I have lost. Other times, I find myself wishing I could go back to the days when I could get out of bed, walk across a room, speak a few words, or simply take a breath without depending on a machine.

How do you accept something that continues to take pieces of your life away?

I have struggled with that question. Acceptance does not erase grief. It does not make suffering disappear, and it does not mean I have stopped wishing things were different.

Some days, acceptance feels peaceful. Other days, it feels like another loss.

But I am discovering something important: I can grieve the life I have lost without rejecting the life God has given me today.

That has not been an easy lesson. And I am still learning it.

When ALS Changes Everything

ALS does more than weaken the body. It changes the way you experience the world.

Things that once required no thought become complicated. Simple decisions depend on another person’s availability. Independence slowly gives way to dependence.

I used to be the person who helped others. Now I am the one who needs help with nearly everything.

I do not always receive help gracefully. There are times when frustration gets the better of me. And there are moments when I feel like a burden.

But needing help does not make me less of a person. My worth was never measured by how much I could accomplish, how strong I was, or how independent I could remain.

I was created by God, loved by Him, and made in His image.

ALS has changed what my body can do. It has not changed who I am in the eyes of God.

Scripture for This Reflection

2 Corinthians 12:9 (NIV)

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

These words were spoken by the Lord to the Apostle Paul as he pleaded for relief from his suffering. Paul had asked God to remove what he described as a thorn in his flesh. But instead of removing it, the Lord answered with a promise: His grace would be sufficient.

Like Paul, I have prayed for relief. I have asked God why this happened and wondered why my life had to change so dramatically.

God’s grace is not dependent on my circumstances becoming easier. The Lord never promised that following Him would mean a life without suffering. But through Jesus Christ, He has promised His presence, His strength, and the hope of eternal life.

That does not make ALS easier to live with. But it gives me a reason to keep trusting Him.

The Hard Truth

I cannot change the fact that I have ALS. I cannot reverse the damage it has done to my body through determination alone. And no amount of anger, frustration, or wishing for yesterday will give me back the independence I once enjoyed.

That is a painful reality.

But accepting reality does not mean giving up on life. It means recognizing what I cannot change while continuing to make something meaningful out of what remains.

I can still love. I can still pray. I can still encourage another person who is struggling. I can still share my experiences through Breath By Breath With ALS. And most importantly, I can still place my trust in Jesus Christ.

Perhaps accepting with grace begins when we stop measuring our lives only by what we have lost and begin recognizing the purpose God may still have for us. I do not always see that purpose clearly, but I believe it is still there.

“Accepting with grace does not mean I have stopped grieving what ALS has taken. It means I am learning to trust God with the life that remains.”

Still Here

There are days when I wonder what I can possibly accomplish in my condition.

I cannot walk into a church, shake someone’s hand, or sit across from a friend and carry on a conversation the way I once did. My world has become much smaller physically.

But through technology, I have discovered that my voice can still reach people. My eye-gaze computer allows me to write. My videos and blog allow me to share the thoughts that fill my mind during the quiet hours.

I never imagined this would become part of my life. Yet here I am.

Still thinking. Still learning. Still sharing. Still searching for the purpose God has for me.

I do not know how much time I have left. But I know that today, I am still here. And that means today still matters.

God Is Still Here

When I think about God’s grace, I remember all the people who have helped carry me through this journey. Their kindness reminds me that God’s provision often comes through the hands of other people.

But grace does not mean every day will be peaceful. There are difficult days, misunderstandings, frustrations, and moments when everyone involved feels exhausted. Living with ALS affects everyone who loves and cares for the person facing it.

Accepting grace also means recognizing that others need it, too.

That is why I need Jesus Christ. Not because my faith is perfect. It isn’t. Not because I always respond with patience. I don’t.

I need Him because I am weak, because I struggle, and because I cannot carry this burden through my own strength. His grace does not depend on my ability to handle everything perfectly. It comes from His love. And that love has not abandoned me.

A New Kind of Forward

For most of my life, moving forward meant making progress: completing a project, learning something new, reaching a goal, or building something I could be proud of.

ALS has changed what progress looks like.

Today, moving forward might mean getting through a difficult morning without losing patience. It might mean accepting help without feeling ashamed. It might mean finding the strength to write another reflection when my body is exhausted.

Or it might mean opening my eyes to another day and thanking God that I am still here.

Progress is not always measured by how far we travel. Sometimes it is measured by how faithfully we endure.

Acceptance does not mean I stop hoping for better days, praying for healing, or seeking ways to improve my life. It means that while I continue to hope and pray, I do not allow the uncertainty of tomorrow to steal every blessing from today.

I can acknowledge my suffering and still be grateful. I can recognize my limitations and still have purpose. I can face ALS without allowing it to define my relationship with God.

This is my new kind of forward. Not the road I would have chosen, but the road I am learning to walk with Christ.

A Quiet Invitation

Perhaps you are facing something in your own life that you never expected: illness, the loss of someone you love, a broken relationship, or a future that looks nothing like the one you imagined.

Maybe you are struggling to accept what has happened. I understand that struggle, and I would never tell you acceptance is easy.

But I encourage you to bring that struggle before God. You do not have to pretend everything is fine. You do not have to hide your grief, your questions, or your disappointment.

Jesus Christ understands suffering. Through His sacrifice and resurrection, He has given us hope that reaches beyond the troubles of this world.

Perhaps your prayer tonight can be as simple as mine:

Lord, I do not understand why my life has taken this road. I miss what I have lost, and sometimes the burden feels too heavy. Help me accept what I cannot change without surrendering my hope. Give me patience when I am frustrated, humility when I need help, and faith when I cannot see the road ahead. Teach me to recognize Your grace in the middle of my weakness. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Closing Thoughts

Accepting with grace is not something I accomplish once and never struggle with again. It is something I must learn every day.

Some mornings I do better than others. Sometimes my faith feels strong. Sometimes I wrestle with questions that have no easy answers.

But through it all, I remember the Lord’s promise to Paul: His grace is sufficient.

I may never understand why ALS became part of my story. And I may never find peace with everything this disease has taken from me.

But I can trust the One who holds my life in His hands.

Accepting with grace is not pretending the journey is beautiful when it is painful. It is believing that even in the pain, the love of Jesus Christ remains greater than the suffering I face.

If this reflection has touched your heart, I invite you to share it with someone who may need encouragement, and join me at Breath By Breath With ALS as we continue this journey of faith, hope, and perseverance.

One day at a time. One breath at a time.

Until next time, God bless.