This is my why.
People ask me, “Why are you so passionate about helping others?”
This is the answer.
That little girl in the photo is me — little Kelsay. Smiling. Bright. Full of wonder. Carrying more pain than most could imagine, yet still choosing joy. Even then, God was writing a story I didn’t yet understand — forming purpose from pain, calling light out of ashes.
Tonight, the pain was loud.
My leg burned down into my toes, the nerves beneath my scars screaming like fire. Its been like this almost daily for weeks, its been exhausting. Every step felt heavy. Every moment felt exhausting. By the time I made it home from work, I wanted to quit the day entirely.
But The Bridge was meeting — and even in the pain, even in the weariness, even in the moments where quitting felt easier — I chose to fight for my why.
So I went.
Still hurting.
Still smiling.
Still showing up.
And God met me there.
I knelt in simple surrender — not with perfect words, not with strength of my own, but with willingness. I told the enemy he would not win tonight. I invited God to move. And He did. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t visualize. That frustrated me — but His presence was unmistakable. Holy. Gentle. Overwhelming in the sweetest way.
Tonight, my friend Dawson spoke about love — about the sacred moments he shares with his daughter, moments born not from pressure, but from love. He said the deepest connection comes when he disciples her from a place of love, and when she understands that love, it becomes their sweetest bond.
And God is the same.
He moves out of love.
He corrects out of love.
He heals out of love.
He calls us deeper out of love.
Dawson said we must be willing to follow God not only to the mountain — but to the operating table. To the places where He cuts, refines, heals, and restores. To the places where surrender is uncomfortable, but transformation is born.
And I realized something again tonight:
I get no credit for who I am.
I get no credit for how far I’ve come.
I get no credit for the healing, the endurance, or the strength.
God did the heavy work.
God did the hard work.
I only walked through what He carried me through.
And because He strengthened me to walk through the fire and the pain — He has now called me to be a light for others walking through theirs.
Then He brought me back to my why.
Why do I fight to get out of debt?
Because little girls like the one in this photo shouldn’t have to walk alone — and I can’t build what God has called me to build if I’m drowning in my own weight.
Why am I passionate about others?
Because there is a young man somewhere carrying unbearable pain, considering giving up — and he should never have to suffer alone. And just a beacon of light could transform His entire heart.
Why do I long to bring healing, change, and love?
Because someone, somewhere feels abandoned by the church, wounded by people, desperate for God to show up — and we need to be the hands and feet that show up. No matter what.
That’s my why.
This photo reminds me who I am — even on the days when pain makes simply being awake feel unbearable. On the days when hope feels thin. On the days when the battle feels louder than faith.
Even when taking a single step feels impossible — take it with God. His strength will carry what yours cannot.
Even when progress feels invisible, when it seems like nothing is changing, when the waiting feels endless — keep going. Those are often the very days God is working deepest, preparing breakthroughs you cannot yet see.
There is hope — because I have seen it before.
There is purpose — because I am still alive.
There is joy — because the Lord still gives it.
And there is a future — because the enemy tried to steal mine, and God said no.
Even in the pain.
Even in the hardest days.
Even when quitting would be easier —
I choose to fight for my why.
Because He carried me through the battle,
He has called me to carry light into the battles of others.
That’s my why.