Faith Over Chaos

If you’ve been around here long enough, you already know about my ongoing back saga. If not, feel free to rewind to my The Backpack and the Beloved” blog post, where I confessed that I don’t just carry emotional burdens — I apparently strap them on like I’m training for the Emotional Olympics. I don’t bottle things up; I pack them up. Neatly. Tightly. With color‑coded labels. And then I wonder why my spine files HR complaints.

It sounds figurative, but trust me, my back does not care about metaphors. My body has this charming habit of saying, “Oh, you’re stressed? Cool. Let me just seize up like a rusty lawn chair.” I can be doing absolutely nothing strenuous — like, literally sitting still — and suddenly my back is like, “Surprise! You’ve been carrying too much again.”

And every time it happens, Matthew 11:30 taps me on the shoulder like a gentle but slightly sarcastic friend:

“For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (NIV)

Okay Lord… message received. Where do I need to lighten the load? What did I take on without checking with You first? And why am I like this?

So, this week I was traveling for work, and my back decided to reenact the final scene of a tragic opera. I was moving like a 90‑year‑old who lost a fight with a recliner. By the time I had to fly home, I woke up absolutely hating the idea of movement. Not disliking. Hating. Deeply. Spiritually.

But this isn’t just about back pain — hang with me.

Somewhere between the hotel bed and the airport shuttle, I finally stopped being stubborn and asked God to help me. I had a two‑and‑a‑half‑hour flight in a seat designed by someone who clearly hates humans, and then only two hours at home before a marriage seminar at church. And I really wanted to go. So I prayed:

“Lord, please take this pain away.”

Earlier that morning, I’d had Bible study with some ladies, and we were in the Gospel of Mark. And because God has a sense of humor that borders on stand‑up comedy, this is the verse that popped up:

“The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.” — Mark 2:27 (NIV)

Now, these sweet women know my back pain. They know my tendency to do too much. They know my “rest is for other people” theology that God is constantly trying to correct. So I said, “Well… I think this means God knew we’d overwork ourselves. He knew we wouldn’t rest. So He literally built rest into the system as a gift.”

One of the ladies laughed — lovingly, of course — and said, “Well Deb, God’s talking to you.” Ouch. But also… fair.

Was I resting in Him? Or was I filling my calendar with good things, God things, church things… but not actually resting? I carried that thought with me to the airport. And as I was walking through the terminal, debating whether I should skip the marriage seminar, it hit me: My back didn’t hurt. Not 100% healed, but definitely “I can move without whimpering” healed. And then it hit me even harder:

It was my turn.

God had done His part. He nudged me. He calmed the pain. He reminded me to rest. He even used Scripture and a Zoom call to do it. Now it was my turn to do mine. Get home. Get ready. Slap on the makeup. And most importantly… adjust the attitude.

Because sometimes the miracle isn’t the healing — it’s the reminder that God already handed you the gift. You just have to pick it up.

In the end, this whole week felt like God walking me back into the garden. Faith Over Chaos isn’t about pretending life is peaceful; it’s about remembering where peace actually comes from. It’s about noticing when my back tightens, my calendar overflows, and my soul starts sprinting ahead of the One who made me. It’s about hearing Him say, “Child, the Sabbath was made for you. Come sit with Me.” And maybe that’s the real miracle — not that the pain eased, but that He invited me, again, to lay down what I was never meant to haul and step back into the garden where rest was always part of the design.

Helping you find peace in the garden again –when the calendar’s full, the back is tight, and the Spirit says “Enough already.”