barak
a word. a whisper. a wake-up call.
“You’ve gone into my future to prepare the way,
and in kindness you follow behind me
to spare me from the harm of my past.
With your hand of love upon my life,
you impart a blessing to me.” -Ps 139:5 (TPT)
Late last year, I was brainstorming with ChatGPT to find my word of the year for 2025. I thought I was chasing something about leverage… about maximizing impact and momentum. But what surfaced instead was a Hebrew word I couldn’t shake:
Barak (בָּרַךְ) – To bless, elevate, or empower, reflecting the energy of maximizing impact.
It struck something deep within me. And unlike previous years, I didn’t try to define it too tightly. I sensed I was meant to leave it open-ended - more invitation less directive. Not to control what it would mean for me, but to trust the unfolding.
I had no idea that just weeks later, on February 11th, our world would turn completely upside down.
To say this one massive event - made up of hundreds of tiny ones - changed me at my core is an understatement.
But now, as I hold this word up to the light of what we’ve lived through so far, I see it: the thread of blessing, the sacred elevation, the empowerment that doesn’t always come wrapped in comfort. I see the wisdom of God woven through the chaos.
In Opening Prayers, you read how I asked God to send reminders of His constant Presence - to show up for us daily. And He has answered that prayer in a resounding affirmative!
In those first chaotic days after Kevin’s emergency amputation, doctors told us plainly: had I not insisted he seek care when I did, he wouldn’t have survived. I can’t explain it, except to say something overtook me that Monday. It was the Holy Spirit. I felt the urgency like a flood.
When the ER doctor couldn’t get a surgeon to respond, God brought an infectious disease doctor - who wasn’t even supposed to be there - into our orbit. He laid eyes on Kevin’s foot, knew exactly which off-duty surgeon to call, and that call set everything in motion to save Kevin’s life.
Even before that, God was preparing me. After the trauma we experienced the year before at that same hospital, I had done deep healing work through ART (Accelerated Resolution Therapy). Without it, I’m certain we would’ve walked out and gone home that day - and Kevin wouldn’t be here.
But instead, we stayed. At the one hospital with one open bed. The one with the right ER doctor. The right infectious disease specialist. The right surgeon. The inpatient rehab team that somehow had one spot open, even with a long waiting list. The best wound care doctor in town. A home health company referred by a friend on social media. Over and over again: provision.
Our surgeon? Humble. Spirit-led. He told us, “I’m just the hands.” And I believe that.
God has provided people, meals, groceries, bills paid, money in our account, a prom ticket, a summer camp registration. Texts. Mailbox blessings. Unexpected door-knocks. Daily manna.
And you - yes, you - have been His vessels.
Your words have spoken life into our souls. Your prayers have carried us. Your hands, your hearts, your presence have been His way of saying, “I’m still here. I’ve got you.”
We are unspeakably humbled. Eternally grateful.
A simple “thank you” just doesn’t seem adequate. But it’s what I have. So..
Thank you!
Mel
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