faith unfaded

My relaxing pool day could not be dampened by anything—not even the sudden downpour that had just arrived. I moved under the portico and continued reading, the birds providing the perfect soundtrack to a day filled with joy and peace.

And then, just like that, everything changed.

Over the wooden fence—out of my line of sight, but well within earshot—a dog was attacked. The sounds, the screams, the agony… I was back in 2021, reliving the day my beloved Izzy was killed by a neighbor’s dog.

I was triggered—and I was unable to stop the physical reaction. My heart started racing, tears started to fall, my breathing became erratic. I knew it was a form of PTSD—emotional events leave lasting scars.

I strained to hear any indication that the incident over the fence would not be fatal—I needed it to be okay for them in a way it had not been for me.

I tried to slow my breathing and not allow a mental spiral into grief. I’d barely left my bed for an entire year after her death—even now, tears spill as I write about that day.

“I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay.” I told myself, over and over. I prayed for the neighbor’s dog. I prayed for the neighbor. (I’m at an Airbnb—I do not know these people or I’d have called to check on them.)

I remembered my number one rule of dealing with triggers: activate the Holy Spirit.

“Lord, take over,” I’d said, like a paramedic handing over CPR duties to a supervisor.

Immediately the wind blew the rain onto me—and my library books—sending me scurrying inside. I’d been rooted to the spot, unable to pull out of the moment. My breathing returned to normal and I was able to separate my thoughts from my emotions.

I’d been through a tragedy—one that will forever hold space within me—but I was okay. What happened with the neighbors was also tragic, but I have hope they had a better outcome. Even more so, I was in a position to be a silent prayer warrior for them today.

You never know who may be praying for you during your darkest hour.

As I realized my trigger had turned into something bigger than my tragedy, the sun came back out in full force—a reminder that even during the storms of life there is always the promise of brighter days.

I headed back outside, book in hand, to enjoy the rest of the afternoon. The air is a little heavier—there’s no use pretending it isn’t—but there’s also victory in knowing you can turn triggers into triumph.