
God Cares About Your Health Too
I was talking with a friend recently about my decision to start 75 Hard — a challenge I’ve heard about for years but never really explored.
I knew it was intense. Seventy-five days of daily commitments. No shortcuts. No excuses. But I had never considered it for myself until this season.
What struck me during our conversation was this realization I shared with her:
“The ability to rest — to take a Sabbath the way God commands us to — actually requires discipline.”
That truth stopped me in my tracks. For so long, I thought rest was just about slowing down, but I never realized how much intentionality it takes to create the space God invites us into. Sabbath isn’t passive — it’s a discipline that leads to wholeness.
As I started writing down the daily habits I wanted to commit to — prayer, worship, movement, Scripture reading — I realized something: these practices lined up almost perfectly with the structure of 75 Hard. It felt less like jumping on a trend and more like confirmation that this was the next right step for me.
The bigger shift, though, wasn’t about 75 Hard. It was about seeing my health and faith differently. Not as two separate areas of life, but as parts of the same whole. I’ve always known God cares about me — but I didn’t always realize just how much He cares about all of me: my body, my mind, and my spirit.
When Scripture says, “renew your mind daily,” it’s not just a spiritual command. It’s an invitation to care for your emotional and mental health too. Neglecting that space creates room for fear and worry to creep in. And I’m learning that tending to every part of who I am — physically, mentally, and spiritually — is one of the ways I honor Him.
So, while this post might sound like it’s about health at first glance, it’s really about something deeper: the wholeness God desires for you — and the freedom that comes when we live like every part of us matters to Him.
The Wilderness Season & Starting Over
For the past six months, I’ve been walking through what I can only describe as a wilderness season — something I first wrote about in my article for Tower 92 on reclaiming joy. At the time, I didn’t realize just how long the journey would be. I thought I’d move through it quickly. But what I’ve learned is that wilderness seasons aren’t meant to be rushed; they’re meant to transform us.

This part of my journey has been about unlearning and relearning — letting go of old patterns, questioning beliefs I didn’t even realize I held, and rediscovering who I am in God. And honestly? It’s been lonely at times. I think that’s intentional. The wilderness strips away distractions and forces you to turn inward and upward — to face yourself, and to let God do the deep work of healing spiritually, emotionally, and even physically.
One of my biggest struggles in this season has been anxiety about the unknown. There was a time in my life when I felt sure about my direction; I thought I had it all figured out. But lately, I’ve been living with more questions than answers. That uncertainty has been humbling, but it’s also where I’ve been learning to trust God in new ways.
The turning point came after I heard a sermon about truly living — not just surviving, but embracing each day as a gift from God. The message was simple: If you wake up, it’s because there’s still purpose for you. That reminder hit me hard. It was time to begin again.

And for me, beginning again meant returning to what grounds me — and this time, that included my health. I committed to three simple practices:
• Daily worship to realign my heart.
• Reading Scripture out loud to renew my mind.
• Movement every day to care for my body — something I usually abandon first in hard seasons.
Those three commitments laid the foundation for what eventually became my decision to take on 75 Hard. Not as a trend, not as a flex, but as a way to rebuild my health and faith together — from the ground up.
Above all, I want to share this part of my journey to remind you: wherever you are, whatever you’ve walked through, God cares about every part of you. There’s no part of your health — mental, emotional, or physical — that doesn’t matter to Him. Scripture says, “Cast your care on Him, because He cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7). And that care covers all of you.
The Spiritual Lies I Had to Unlearn

When I started connecting my health and my faith, I realized there were some deep-rooted beliefs I had to let go of — things I didn’t even know I believed until I hit burnout. They weren’t always things someone told me directly, but messages I picked up from culture, church, or even my own inner critic.
Lie #1: Overworking = Worthy
I used to think the more I did, the more God would approve of me. Rest felt like laziness, and slowing down made me anxious — like I wasn’t doing enough to prove myself.
But in Matthew 11:28, Jesus says, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Rest isn’t weakness — it’s worship. It’s trusting that God can handle what I can’t.
I’m still learning this. Even now, 75 Hard could easily become another “prove yourself” challenge — but I’m approaching it differently. This time, it’s not about earning worth; it’s about honoring God with the life and energy He’s already given me.
Lie #2: Suffering = Spirituality
Somewhere along the way, I picked up the idea that if I was struggling, I must be growing. That constant sacrifice or pain somehow made me holier. But here’s what I’ve learned: struggle alone doesn’t make us holy — surrender does.
Jesus said He came so that we might have life, and life abundantly (John 10:10). That doesn’t mean life will always be easy, but it does mean God isn’t glorified by my burnout. He’s glorified when my life reflects His goodness — when I choose joy, care for my body, and live out of overflow instead of depletion.
Lie #3: Self-Care = Selfishness
This one has been the hardest to unlearn. I’ve always been the type to pour out for everyone else — family, work, ministry — and ignore my own needs. Deep down, I thought taking care of myself was indulgent.
But 1 Corinthians 6:19-20 reminds us that our bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit. Caring for them isn’t vanity; it’s stewardship. When I finally started viewing movement, nourishment, and rest as ways to honor God — not just “treat myself” — everything shifted.
Unlearning these lies hasn’t been a quick process. It’s taken intentionality, grace, and daily reminders that God’s love isn’t something I earn — it’s something I live from. And it’s why this season of starting over feels different. I’m not just chasing health goals; I’m rebuilding a foundation where faith and health work together instead of against each other.
Why Faith and Health Are Connected

For a long time, I treated my faith and my health like two separate lanes. Faith was about prayer, church, and my relationship with God. Health was about food, fitness, and how my body felt. If one was strong, I assumed it could make up for the other.
But walking through this wilderness season has shown me something different: they’re not just connected — they’re intertwined.
When I felt spiritually low, I noticed it in my body too — fatigue, lack of motivation, anxiety creeping in. And when I let my health slide, it started affecting my faith — I didn’t have the energy or clarity to show up for prayer, worship, or even everyday responsibilities. It was like trying to live split in half.
Scripture reminds us that God designed us as whole beings:
• “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength.” (Mark 12:30)
• “You are fearfully and wonderfully made.” (Psalm 139:14)
• “Do you not know your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit?” (1 Corinthians 6:19)
These aren’t separate instructions — they’re an invitation to see every part of ourselves as part of our worship. When I finally started viewing movement, nourishment, and rest as ways to glorify God — not as “extras” — everything shifted.
That’s why I’m approaching 75 Hard differently. It’s not about perfection or checking boxes; it’s about alignment. It’s about inviting God into every part of my reset and trusting Him to teach me how to live whole — mind, body, and spirit — one day at a time.
Practical Reset: Inviting God Into Your Health
When I finally made the decision to start 75 Hard, it wasn’t because I wanted another challenge to prove myself. It was because I needed a framework to help me return to what matters — to rebuild rhythms that anchor both my faith and my health.
But before I even knew about the program, I had already committed to three simple practices that felt like lifelines in this season:
Daily Worship – Setting aside intentional time each day to focus on God first. No to-do list, no performance — just a moment to realign my heart with Him before everything else.
Movement Twice a Day – Reclaiming movement as presence, not punishment. Whether it’s walking, stretching, or lifting weights, moving my body reminds me that this temple is worth caring for — not just for me, but because it belongs to Him.
Reading Scripture Out Loud – There’s something powerful about hearing God’s Word with your own ears. Romans 10:17 says, “Faith comes by hearing,” and speaking it aloud shifts how I internalize and believe it — especially on days when my emotions don’t match my faith.
These three commitments are shaping how I approach 75 Hard — not as a rigid checklist, but as a daily invitation to partner with God in caring for my whole self. It’s less about “completing” something and more about living aligned with Him in the process.
If you’ve read my earlier post on creating a Wellness Board, you know I’m a believer in setting intentions you can see and return to daily. This reset feels like an extension of that — putting spiritual and physical priorities side by side so I don’t forget that both matter deeply to God.

And maybe you’re in a similar season — rebuilding after burnout, craving balance, or simply trying to start over. You don’t have to take on a 75-day challenge to begin. Start with one habit. One daily moment where you invite God into your health. Small, faithful steps add up — and sometimes the smallest changes create the biggest breakthroughs.
Start Where You Are

If there’s one thing this season has taught me, it’s this: God meets us exactly where we are — not where we think we should be. Whether you’re at your healthiest or feeling like you’ve drifted far from where you want to be, His care for you doesn’t change.
Maybe you’re in your own kind of wilderness right now — carrying unanswered questions, trying to figure out the next right step, or feeling like you’re starting over for the hundredth time. I get it. And I want you to know it’s okay to begin again. In fact, sometimes starting over is the most faithful thing you can do.
If you feel that nudge to reset — spiritually, physically, or both — I want to encourage you to start small. Choose one habit that draws you closer to Him. One decision that makes your body feel cared for. One moment in your day where you pause and let Him remind you that you’re loved.
Questions to Reflect On
Which part of your health — physical, emotional, or spiritual — have you been keeping separate from your faith?
What’s one lie you’ve believed about rest, suffering, or self-care — and what truth is God inviting you to replace it with?
Where is He calling you to give yourself grace and begin again?
If you need a little help finding your footing, my earlier post on creating a Wellness Board might give you a practical place to start. Or you can sign up for Bloom Notes, my free seven-day devotional, for daily reminders of God’s care in everyday life.
And if you want to follow along as I walk this out in real time — the highs, the lows, and the small wins — I’ll be sharing updates on my 75 Hard journey over on Instagram. Not as a highlight reel, but as a reminder that this process can be holy too.
“Beloved, I pray that you may prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers.” — 3 John 1:2
You don’t have to figure this out alone. If you’re craving support as you begin again, click below to schedule a free discovery call. Together we’ll map out your next step toward wholeness.

