Everything Has Its Time

I wrote this on August 7th, 2025, somewhere in the middle of one of the most disorienting stretches of our lives. Help was pouring in from everywhere. And somehow, more love was also more weight. I was losing my body piece by piece while watching three prayers I’d carried for years get answered all at once. Ten months later, with Lizzy here and the village still showing up, everything I wrote that day still holds. Ecclesiastes knew something I was only beginning to understand.

Originally written on August 7, 2025 — Chicago, Illinois

We knew this season would bring both challenges and miracles. Every day is a gauntlet of emotions — frustration, exhaustion, hope, gratitude. Some days I remind myself that today might be the easiest day we’ll ever have for the rest of our lives. Because tomorrow is not getting easier. It’s only getting harder.

I’ve accepted that we need help. I’ve probably known this for a long time, but the difference now is that I’m not just holding it inside — I’m actively asking for help. And the help has come. Friends and family are showing up, stepping in, carrying burdens with us. That is beautiful. But here’s the truth: with help comes its own kind of weight.

The more people love you, the more voices there are in the room. More opinions, more calls, more texts, more decisions. Each one comes from love. But instead of less on our plates, sometimes it feels like more. And when you’re already drowning in hospital visits, insurance calls, and the thousand unseen tasks of daily survival, even love can feel overwhelming.

I know my temper is short. Grace’s too. It’s not because we don’t appreciate the help — we do. It’s because every ounce of our energy is already spoken for. So if we snap, if we sound frustrated, if we take a beat before responding — please remember: no one is more frustrated than ME. I’m losing my body piece by piece. Every day something new I can’t do. And yet, in the middle of that loss, what I see most clearly is how much we are loved.

Because love is what’s happening here. Friends showing up. Family rallying. Best friends sitting silently just to absorb our emotions. This is grace in action. And it reminds me: I prayed for this.

“Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.”
— Matthew 7:7

I prayed for three things:

To meet a good woman.
To have a child with her.
For my family and friends to become friends with each other.

All three are happening right before my eyes. My wife. Our baby. My family and my friends bonding, laughing, loving each other as I always hoped they would.

God answered those prayers. If you would’ve told me 10 years ago these prayers would be answered, I would’ve said, “sign me up!”

And yes — He also gave me ALS.

Be careful what you pray for. Because God will give you what you need. Not what you expect.

That’s the lesson of this season: everything has its time.

“To everything there is a season,
A time for every purpose under heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die;
A time to plant, and a time to pluck what is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal;
A time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones;
A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to gain, and a time to lose;
A time to keep, and a time to throw away;
A time to tear, and a time to sew;
A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate;
A time of war, and a time of peace.”
— Ecclesiastes 3:1–8 NKJV