The Long Walk
“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.” — Psalm 23:4
Foreword
My husband has always been a fighter. Not the kind who seeks attention or applause, but the kind who survives what should have broken him. He has lived many lives inside one lifetime, carried burdens most people will never see, and walked through valleys I can’t pretend to fully understand.
I am always ready to listen, always ready to hold space for his stories, but I will never claim to know his pain. Some wounds live deep beneath the surface — known only to the one who endured them and to the God who carried them through.
When he shares pieces of his past, I’m reminded of the strength it takes not just to endure, but to keep choosing life. To keep walking — literally and spiritually — even when the road is long, the weather is cruel, and the world seems determined to push you back down.
Scripture reminds us:
“The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” — Exodus 14:14
And yet, sometimes God’s protection looks like movement.
Sometimes it looks like a long walk in the rain.
Sometimes it looks like refusing to give up when everything around you says you should.
Another verse that echoes his journey:
“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.” — Psalm 23:4
This is one of his stories — told in his own words.
A story of survival, grit, and the kind of faith that grows in the wilderness.
The Long Walk That Saved My Life
By my husband, in his own words
A friend recently asked me, “How often do you run or walk since EAS Active Duty?”
The truth is, I’ve always been an active person. But the walking I did back then wasn’t about fitness — it was survival.
In the late 2000s, I went through a series of tragic, life‑altering experiences. Each one cost something: sanity, blood, or treasure. And in the middle of all of it, I found myself placed in a Veterans Facility that was supposed to help… but nearly cost me my life.
A System That Failed
The facility claimed they transported veterans to their appointments every day. That was a lie.
The driver — who was also part of management — would cancel appointments whenever he didn’t feel like working. I didn’t know how bad things were at first. I only knew I didn’t feel right, and every day the symptoms got worse.
What I didn’t know was that I had picked up a rare Middle Eastern bacteria during deployment — one of seven known strains that were often fatal. It had already begun spreading.
When I called the VA Clinic the day before my appointment, I learned the facility had told them I refused the appointment. They canceled it without my knowledge.
That was the moment something in me snapped into place.
The Walk
I told the clinic to expect me early the next morning.
Then, at 0‑dark‑thirty, I checked myself out and started walking.
Twenty-plus miles.
In the rain.
In the dark.
With an infection spreading through my body.
Cars splashed me on purpose. Others tried to give me space. I kept walking.
I reached the clinic around 10 a.m., soaked and exhausted. The receptionist looked at me and said she honestly wondered if I’d really show up — not many people follow through anymore.
The attending physician took one look at me, ran my vitals, and immediately ordered an ambulance. The infection had already reached my eye and was close to entering my brain.
If I hadn’t walked that morning, I wouldn’t be here.
Three Months of Hospitals
The VA sent me all over the state — hospital to hospital — based on whatever doctor had the most padded résumé. I spent three months on IV antibiotics, fluids, and constant CT scans.
Eventually, I got better.
But when I felt well enough to leave, they wouldn’t discharge me. I felt like I was being kept simply because the VA was paying the bills. After a week of trying, I finally pulled out my IVs and walked out on my own.
Another long walk.
A Turning Point
Not long after, a VA Service Officer called me.
He talked to me like a human being.
He helped me see things differently.
He helped me come back to life.
He was the first service officer who ever truly helped me — and he changed my view of humanity for the better.
I later became a Veteran Service Officer and peer support counselor myself. I proudly helped other veterans and their families. But I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t know how to describe my own wounds or trust issues. I was too angry.
Helping others lets you observe pain.
Doing your own paperwork forces you to relive it.
I’ve experienced both.
Still Walking
I still walk often.
Thank God for good people and better weather.
That long walk was one of the best decisions I ever made.
Sometimes you have to trust your gut.
Sometimes you have to take the long walk — even when it’s raining, even when it’s lonely, even when no one believes you’ll show up.
Sometimes the long walk is what saves you.
Conclusion
“He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.” — Isaiah 40:29
His story reminds me that faith isn’t something we practice only in peaceful seasons. It’s a muscle — strengthened through hardship, uncertainty, and the moments when we have nothing left but God and the will to keep going.
Every step he took on that long walk was guided, protected, and met with purpose. And I believe the same is true for each of us.
“He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.” — Isaiah 40:29
May this story remind you that strength often looks like taking one more step.
And sometimes, the long walk becomes the turning point.
Closing Prayer
Father, thank You for walking with us through every valley — even the ones we never expected to face. Thank You for the strength You give when our own strength runs out. Help us trust Your guidance, listen to Your nudges, and take the steps You place before us, even when the road feels long. Bless those who are fighting silent battles today. Surround them with Your protection, Your peace, and Your presence. May every long walk lead us closer to You. Amen.
Reflections
What long walk — physical, emotional, or spiritual — has shaped who you are today?
Reflections
Who in your life needs encouragement to take their next step, and how can you support them?
Reflections
What does resilience look like in your current season of life?