A deeply personal reflection on growing your inner strength through grief, prayer, resilience, mindfulness, and trusting God during life’s darkest moments.
Growing your inner strength doesn’t happen overnight, nor does it come along when you avoid the challenges and the hard moments. It grows slowly, steadily, while you are asking yourself the hard questions, when you face what you’re fearing the most, when you feel broken and lost, when nothing makes sense and you feel like you’re drowning in overwhelming darkness and confusion.
This journey of growing your inner strength is not easy, but it is deeply transformative when you choose to walk it consciously.
Difficulties have the power to shape you into the stronger, more resilient person you can become, but you need to pause and be mindfully aware of every thought and emotion you’re experiencing. Don’t be afraid to sit with all your thoughts and emotions, but do that with self-compassion. Do that with patience. Be patient that hard times will pass and you will rise stronger, more resilient. Trust that process.
You should also do that with acceptance.
You have to accept what happens with patience and know that things happen not to punish you or to break you, but to position you, to grow you, to make you stronger, braver, and more resilient.
My personal growth and transformation journey, especially my journey of growing my inner strength, has been ongoing for many years—for decades actually. But it’s only in the last six years, I would say, that I truly feel I’ve made the most gains, the most growth, the deepest inner development and personal transformation.
I had a powerful insight just last week while I was sitting inside the MRI tube during my annual scan. It reminded me of a realization I first had about six years ago, when I had to do my first MRI while dealing with serious health issues. At that time, it was extremely difficult for me because of my claustrophobia, my fear of tight spaces. I would have panic attacks every time I had to do an MRI. The anxiety would begin days before the appointment and became overwhelming the moment I entered the MRI room.
My doctor eventually suggested that I take a calming pill before each MRI, which I did for a couple of years. But that meant I always needed someone to drive me to and from the hospital.
You have to accept what happens with patience and know that things happen not to punish you or to break you, but to position you, to grow you, to make you stronger, braver, and more resilient.
Then, two years ago, I had a scheduled MRI and I wasn’t panicking because I assumed I would take the calming pill. But something happened: my husband couldn’t fly back home to be with me, and my son—the one who usually drives—was traveling. I was completely alone and had no choice but to do the MRI without the pill.
At the time, I had just returned from Canada, where I had been with my sister, who had recently been diagnosed with a terminal illness. A year before that, we had lost our father. Emotionally, I was not okay. I was overwhelmed, fragile, and deeply grieving. But I still had to go through with the MRI.
As they placed me inside the tube, I broke down. I cried throughout the entire scan. But then I made a decision: I would not allow this moment of weakness to control me.
So I stayed there with the thoughts and emotions that had been overwhelming me for so long—the grief of losing my father, the fear and pain of my sister’s illness. Tears kept streaming down my face as I allowed myself to fully feel everything. I thought of my father lying in his grave. I thought of my sister having to go through MRIs repeatedly to monitor her condition. I felt fear, heartbreak, empathy, deep love—so much love for both of them.
And in that moment, I realized the only thing I could truly do was pray.
I prayed to God to help my sister through what she was enduring. I prayed to find the inner strength to carry everything I was holding. To be strong enough to support my sister. To be strong enough for everyone who needed me.
And so I prayed… with tears still flowing uncontrollably… I prayed, and I prayed, and I prayed.
But I finally made it through the MRI. I left feeling strange, yet also aware that I had survived it—that I was okay.
Then came this year’s MRI, just last week. As the date approached, I kept reminding myself: I’ll be fine. I won’t take any calming pills. I don’t need anyone to drive me. I won’t be scared because I will pray and I will breathe.
I told myself that I would breathe and pray before and during the MRI, that God would be with me, and that I would be okay.
So I went to the hospital and got into the machine. And that day, the MRI malfunctioned. Instead of the usual 30 minutes, I spent more than an hour inside while they tried to reset and fix it.
Throughout the entire time, I did my breathing exercises and I prayed. I continued with slow, steady breaths alongside my prayers.
And for the first time, I wasn’t panicking. I wasn’t afraid. Tears weren’t streaming down my face. Instead, I felt strong.
I felt an inner light glowing in my chest—deep in my heart—spreading through my whole body. It filled me with power, strength, and calm confidence. A knowing that I was okay. That I would be okay. That I could do this. Did I just get over my clautrophobia?
I realized how much I had grown. six years ago, I would have a panic attack before every MRI, feeling embarrassed in front of the technicians. Now, I was trusting in my prayers, intentionally relying on my calming breath, and trusting that God was with me. I knew He was listening, and that He was strengthening me.
So instead of crying and focusing on fear, I focused on gratitude: gratitude for the resilience and inner strength that had grown within me. Ideas began to flow: inspiring thoughts, things I wanted to create, things I wanted to write.
It became a deeply empowering moment.
When it was over, I walked out of the hospital with a beautiful feeling: I am stronger. I have developed an inner strength and resilience I never imagined I could have.
Driving home, I felt Pride. Not loud pride, but gentle, rooted, earned pride.
That night, I stayed with that feeling of pride and began reflecting on what had truly helped me in growing my inner strength and becoming this stronger version of myself.
In the days that followed, I kept reflecting: What was it exactly that helped me grow my inner strength? Where did my resilience truly come from? Was there a turning point?
And I realized: it wasn’t a single turning point. It was a steady journey of growing your inner strength, one breath, one prayer, one moment at a time.
A journey that begins with facing your fears. With sitting with your thoughts and emotions while walking through difficult terrain. Even in the darkness. Even in pain. Even in heartbreak. You stay. You breathe. You feel. You allow.
You choose not to judge yourself, but to hold yourself with kindness. To speak gently to your own heart and say, It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. Be patient with yourself. Trust.
This is also the spirit that guides my work through one-on-one coaching, circles, workshops, and retreats.
It is through this steady, mindful journey of acceptance, patience, trust, letting go, and surrendering to what is that growth happens. Surrendering with the belief that there is a greater power taking care of you.
Because the outcome of hardship is not to break you, but to position you: to lift you to a stronger, higher place.
…it wasn’t a single turning point. It was a steady journey of growing your inner strength, one breath, one prayer, one moment at a time.
But you must be present in the process. You must meet your experience with awareness, mindfulness, grounding, patience, and self-compassion.
And eventually, you realize you were never alone. You never had to be.
God was with you the entire time, guiding you, holding you, strengthening you, growing you, giving you the resilience you needed to endure so that you could emerge stronger, more aware, more grateful, more mindful, and wiser.
If this reflection speaks to you and you would like personal support on your journey, I offer one-on-one coaching and you are welcome to reach out. You can connect with me here.
With care,
Dina
