There are moments in life when everything seems to shift at once, when one season ends and another begins before you’ve even had time to catch your breath. That is exactly where I find myself.

In May, at the age of 50, I will be returning to school. A decision that should feel exciting, and in many ways, it is, but if I’m being honest, it also terrifies me. It’s been a long time since I’ve sat in a classroom, studied for exams, or balanced assignments with everyday life. The unknown feels heavy.

And then April came.

April brought news I never by expected—a medical diagnosis that shook me to my core. I was absolutely devastated when I received it. For a few days, I sat in shock, trying to process what this meant for my life. There were tears. There was anger. There was hurt. There were moments where fear tried to take over completely.

I even questioned whether I should still move forward with school.
“Is this too much?”
“Can I really handle both?”

For a moment, I almost allowed fear to stop me.

But then something shifted.

After I moved through the initial wave of emotions, I turned on praise and worship music. And in that moment, I made a decision—I chose to praise my Heavenly Father, not just for what He’s doing now, but for everything He has already brought me through.

Because the truth is… He has done it before.

And I believe, with everything in me, He will do it again.

New seasons can be scary. Not because we are weak, but because we don’t know what comes next. The unknown can feel overwhelming. It can whisper doubt, plant fear, and try to convince us to stay where it’s comfortable.

But growth doesn’t happen in comfort.

April showers bring May flowers.

And sometimes those “April showers” don’t look like a little rain—they look like unexpected diagnoses, life changes, and moments that stretch us beyond what we thought we could handle. But those very moments are what prepare us for the beauty that is coming.

I’m holding on tightly to the promise in Romans 8:28—that all things work together for my good. Not some things. Not the easy things. All things.

I’m also standing on Jeremiah 29:11, believing that God has plans for me—plans to prosper me, not to harm me, plans to give me hope and a future.

And I’m believing for beauty for ashes.

Even in this.

Even now.

Through prayer and the love of my support system, I’ve found the strength to move forward. I’ve decided that I will not allow fear of school or of my diagnosis, to stop me from walking into what God has placed in my heart.

Because I know this:
God did not bring me this far to leave me.

So I will step into May—into this new season—with faith over fear.
I will begin school.
I will begin treatment.
And I will trust that on the other side of this, there is victory.

If you find yourself in a new season right now—one that feels uncertain, overwhelming, or even frightening—I want to encourage you:

Embrace it.

Trust that you will get through it.

Continue with the plans God placed inside of you.

Do not let anyone, or anything, stop you from reaching your goals.

Your “April showers” are not the end of your story.

They are simply making way for your May flowers.

And when they bloom, they will be more beautiful than you ever imagined.