When No Doesn’t Mean Never: What Loss, Timing, and God Have Taught Me

Kristen Scott
4 days ago
10 min read

There are weeks where everything feels like a "no." Last week was one of them.

No to being able to work again.

No to my disability pay.

No to moving back home.

No to the physical therapist who discharged me.

No to peace of mind.

No to my old car I lost last year.

No to Axel, who isn't here anymore.

No to Nana, who I can never get back.

No to my engagement ring...which somehow disappeared last year.

And yet... I’m still here. I’m still standing.

The Weight I Carried Last Week:

I haven’t worked in four years. Not because I don’t want to...but because fibromyalgia made that decision for me. The pain, fatigue, brain fog, and unpredictability have taken away my ability to function in a traditional job. I miss working. I miss feeling productive. I miss being able to make my own money. But chronic illness doesn’t follow schedules, and it doesn’t pause for commitments. That’s been one of the hardest losses to grieve...because it’s invisible, and people don’t always understand it.

Last week reminded me of the deeper losses I’ve been carrying over time.

Two years ago, I lost my Nana. A year ago, we lost Axel. I lost my car after we couldn’t afford to keep it when Adrian lost his job managing a store that shut down last September. I lost my engagement ring...It vanished somewhere inside the house last year, possibly stolen during a time when different people were coming in and out for work on the home. I may never know.

So no, not all of these losses happened in the past seven days...but the grief from them came with me into last week. Last week, I felt every one of those “no’s.” Because sometimes, it doesn’t matter when they happened...the weight catches up, especially when your body and mind are already running on empty.

Normally, I can keep perspective. I try to focus on gratitude, surrender what I can’t control, and root myself back in faith. But last week?

Last week was too much.

A bad reaction to Propranolol left me with vision loss and a dangerously low heart rate. On top of that, I had CBD and Delta-8 gummies still in my system. Then I started my period. It was just a lot.

And all of this was happening as I adjusted to new challenges ...one being that my physical therapy office discharged me. Not because I was difficult, but because I had repeated transportation issues. I use a state-sponsored service through Medicaid that requires scheduling rides five business days in advance. I learned that if no driver is available, I don’t get picked up ...even if I’m ready to go. That happened multiple times, and I missed appointments and even church through no fault of my own. Eventually, they canceled my future sessions and removed me from their practice. Now I have to start over and find a new physical therapist ...and it feels like I’m being punished for something I didn’t choose.

It’s especially hard now because my husband is working full time again, managing a different store. Which is a blessing, and we are very grateful ...but we’re both feeling the stress of the adjustment. During the week, I rely entirely on transportation services. And when those fall through, I’m stuck. It feels like everything rests on me ...and sometimes, I just can’t carry it all.

On top of all that, I’ve also had this fear ...thanks to my husband mentioning it. What if 911 stops responding? What if I’ve called too much? Is that even possible?

(Answer is No, btw they won't do that and I'm fine)

My therapist reminded me earlier this week in our Zoom session: I’m doing what I’m supposed to do.

Having a disability means I don’t always know when a fibromyalgia flare will hit... I didn’t know Propranolol would cause vision loss/disturbancas...and a low heart rate. Prescription labels list a thousand symptoms, but people with chronic illness know ...it’s not that simple. Everybody reacts differently. You can’t predict until you try.

That reaction was scary. I had to call 911. During the time Adrian was in training week.. And when they came, they didn’t dismiss me ...they confirmed it. My heart rate was 49 beats per minute. That’s 11 below the healthy resting rate of 60.

And now I know. Propranolol isn’t for me. It was prescribed to help with OCD, anxiety, and panic attacks ....and the side effects weren’t worth it. I learned. I adjusted. That’s what healing with chronic illness looks like.

Just like I learned last year during a four-day hospital stay after an acute kidney injury. It was a terrifying experience ...one that forced me to reevaluate every medication I was on. I was told NSAIDs and anything processed through my kidneys could never be used again. It was a wake-up call I’ll never forget.

Since then, every new prescription requires research, prayer, and caution. I recently had to say no to Lyrica I was prescribed for my fibromyalgia after learning it could affect my kidneys, cause depression, and undo the progress I’ve made with my weight, mind, and memory.

It’s all a lot. Everything I carry is not just physical ....but emotional, mental, and spiritual. It’s an invisible load most people don’t see. And I carry it every day.

I mean, for crying out loud ...I just got fired from my physical therapist lol...Even if I could go back to work...through the pain and with all I’m managing, I’d probably be fired.

I'm already struggling to keep up with healthcare appointments, and that's with doctors who are supposed to understand.

One day, I even missed a Zoom session with my actual therapist because I was in too much pain and so exhausted that I slept through it. I apologized profusely afterward, but that’s what it’s like living with chronic illness. I appreciate the people in the medical and mental health fields who truly understand...who see the whole picture and advocate for people like me. Those who get it make all the difference.

I’m trying to give myself grace for all of this....

Grace for the emotional weight.

Grace for my mental illnesses ...BPD and OCD.

Grace for the physical pain and being disabled.

Grace for being a woman.

Grace for being a Christian.

Grace for being human....

But Then This Week Came…

And this week? This week brought some yeses.

Yes to Adrian getting through training and officially being back at work.

Yes to a new season of stability and structure after nine months of uncertainty.

Yes to finally having a car again ....after a full year without one!!

We found it on Facebook Marketplace. It’s in both our names, and we call it our candy apple baby. It’s the perfect blend of my Ford I had and loved for 8 years and his Chrysler he loved... It’s not just transportation ...it’s a symbol of independence, answered prayers, teamwork, and God’s provision. Another full-circle moment. A redirection that took time...but one that proves His timing is never wasted.

God didn't dress moved through the car itself...He moved through the connection. I quickly became friends with the seller, she too knew what it was like to part ways with her car baby and to my surprise, she’s a fellow Christian. She told us "My blessing is now your blessing and I know it will help and bless you guys just as much is it did to me 🙏🏻🥰"

We’ve been texting ever since... It’s always a blessing to gain another Christian friend, especially in a season that’s felt so isolating. That moment reminded me: God sees every need...even the ones we don’t speak out loud

The Timing That Keeps Showing Up:

I realized something too when my therapist asked me, "What do you think it means when God says no? What have you learned from the Bible about that?"

I answered, “Usually it’s in our best interest. It’s for our protection, or it’s to show us that it’s not our timing... it’s His.”

Maybe all these no's weren't really rejections... Maybe they were delays. Maybe they were redirections. Maybe they were God's way of saying: not yet...

Like the time we met Barry last year, a door greeter at Walmart here in Virginia who told me about his disability journey. He was denied his claim...even though he can’t walk, uses a cane and a walker, and is partially paralyzed. He gave me the name of his attorney who won his case...A year later, after waiting two years and just getting denied, I needed that information...and now I’m in the appeal process with an attorney fighting for me. So is my friend Kimberly, who has an ileostomy bag and struggles with seizures. She was also denied at first.

God brought it back around. That no became a yes in His timing. And through all of this, I think God is also showing me that I’m not alone...

There are so many peoplestruggling with mental and physical illnesses...

I used to feel like maybe I was the only one facing this kind of uphill battle, but I see...that this is a nationwide issue. I was incredibly thankful and blessed that my attorney took my case, because I’ve learned that if your case isn’t strong enough, many attorneys won’t even take it.

In fact, around 67% of initial Social Security Disability Insurance (SSDI) applications are denied ...so it’s not just me, Barry, Kimberly, or others I see on social media. It’s a widespread issue affecting countless Americans trying to get the help they need. But by the grace of God, my case was strong enough. In fact, my attorney caught a key mistake that led to my denial...Social Securityassumed I had worked within the last four years, despite all the paperwork, maybe there was a msitake somewhere made but I haven’t worked ...My attorney can prove it, and honestly, I have no idea how Social Security missed that lol. I mean, it’s literally in the name ...Social Security. Check my Social Security number! What do you mean you missed that? Thankfully, it’s being addressed now...

Or how I couldn’t find the right therapist for three years since leaving Florida. But after all the complications, I was approved for Medicaid. I found a Christian therapy clinic. I found Alyssa. And she’s been a lifeline. That wasn’t a no. That was a better yes waiting for me.

And you know what? During those nine months without income for either of us:

We didn’t die...

We still had a roof over our heads...

We didn't starve...

God provided.

We were even placed on an electric savings program during that season...

Our church helped us....

Our families stepped in....

Utility companies worked with us....

Looking back, I believe God wanted to show us that He is our provider.

We never lost power...but our water did get shut off once... And even then, I was like, “Okay, that’s fine, we’ll just shower at the gym.” Because I’ve always been that way...street smart, resourceful. I’ve struggled, sure, but I always find a way. You know the saying, “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade?” That’s me. I’m that person. And lately, one of the sweetest lemonades I’ve been making is turning my pain into purpose...writing this blog, sharing my lessons, and hoping that maybe, just maybe, someone else out there feels seen and less alone because of it. But there are days when I can’t make lemonade...when the lemons feel too heavy...and that’s when I really rely on God and prayer. And honestly, I don’t know how I went the first 19 years of my life without Him.

“And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus.” - Philippians 4:19

When Grief Meets Gratitude:

My therapist asked me what I think God is teaching me through all of this grief...

The loss.

The waiting.

The disappointments.

I think it's this: Some things can be replaced...

Some things never will be...

And some things are simply transformed...

I can get a new car, I can recreate my engagement ring, but I can’t get my Nana back.... I can’t bring Axel back...

But maybe that’s not the point.

Maybe the point is allowing grief to move us toward gratitude...not because we’re trying to replace what we lost, but because we’re making room for what still remains.

Like my Meemaw ...my stepdad’s mom. She’s been in my life since 2004, the year my mom remarried Mike, my stepdad, when I was 10.

She messaged me after reading my testimony blog. She told me how proud she was of me. She reminded me of vacations, baking, school drop-offs, and sleepovers.

I hadn’t mentioned her in my testimony ...and she felt that. But instead of being hurt and staying silent, she spoke up. And I respected and appreciated that so much because it gave me the chance to explain:

“Meemaw, I truly cherish all those memories ....they were a safe place in my childhood. I’ll never forget them. I hope you understand it was more of a testimony, not a life story ha. It was focused on the raw parts and trauma and loss that God pulled me through. I love you. I can’t wait to see you in July!”

She replied:

“Yes, I totally realize it’s a testimony... and I hate that you went through all of that. I’m glad I was a safe place. I just want you to know how proud I am of you. You are a sweet, strong young woman and you will be okay! I totally understand the stress and pain fibromyalgia can cause… I fight with it every day. Most days I win, but some knock me down. Just always remember I love you. And I can’t wait for July either… but I’m not wearing my PJs.”

To which I said:

“Yes you are. It’s a PJ party!”

It was a good conversation. Honest, heartfelt...and fun at the end. A healing moment I didn’t know I needed.

God used that moment to show me: not everything is lost. Some things can still be restored.

I can’t get my Nana back. But I can deepen my relationship with the grandmother I still have.

It’s like when you’re widowed. Or you go through a breakup or divorce. You can’t get that person back. But one day, someone else enters your life—and it's a new blessing. All the relationships that didn’t work out in my past were hard to walk away from. But now I see why. They were leading me to Adrian ...my husband.

When I was asked what I wanted:

Earlier this week, when I felt like I was slipping under, my therapist asked me:

“What do you want? What, if anything, would help you today? This week? This month?”

And I started to answer:

Today?

I want to take a shower...

I want to eat something nourishing...

I want to take a nap...

In the next few weeks or month?

I want to get Nova to the vet for her shots...

I want us to find a new car ...something more fuel-efficient than Adrian’s truck.

I want to paint with my husband on the porch...

I want peace within myself...

I want to feel like myself again.

And wouldn’t you know...it started happening...

Nova is officially set up for her shots; the appointment is made.

After that conversation, after that appointment, and after a lot of prayer, and researching ..this weekend...we got our new car! A full-circle answer to a long-standing prayer.

Things are turning up again. Slowly, gently, one yes at a time.

And in that moment, I realized:

I still want.

Which means I still hope.

Which means I’m still here...

Fighting. Advocating. Breathing. Feeling. Thinking. Praying. Planning.

Thank You, God

Thank you for what You’ve done...

Thank you for what You’re doing...

Thank you for what You’re going to do...

I still believe the no’s are not forever.

I believe they’re becoming not yets.