When I Look Back, I See God

By Lindsey Sills-Brown | Shared with permission

I’ve shared pieces of my story over the years, but I’ve never shared it all in one place. Today, I want to.

Not because my story is extraordinary, but because my God is.

If even one person reads this and finds the courage to keep fighting, then every painful chapter will be worth sharing.

It’s funny what you think your story is going to be about.

For a long time, I thought mine was going to be about addiction. Then I thought it was going to be about survival. Now, looking back, I realize my story has never really been about either.

It’s about grace.

The kind that shows up when you don’t deserve it. The kind that stays when everyone else leaves. The kind that keeps finding you when you’ve spent years running.

Nineteen Years of Chasing Relief

I started using drugs and alcohol when I was a young girl.

What began as a way to fit in eventually became a way to cope. Then it became a way to survive. Before I knew it, it became who I was, or at least who I thought I was.

I spent nineteen years chasing relief.

Relief from pain.

Relief from shame.

Relief from loneliness.

Relief from myself.

If you’ve ever battled addiction, depression, anxiety, grief, trauma, or anything else that keeps you awake at night, then you may know exactly what I’m talking about.

Most of us aren’t really trying to get high.

Most of us are just trying not to hurt anymore.

I hurt a lot of people during those years. I hurt myself even more. Somewhere along the way, I started believing the lie that I was too far gone, too broken, too damaged, too much.

Maybe you’ve believed that lie too.

Grace Began Showing Up

Then God started showing up in places I never expected Him.

Through my children.

Through the people who loved me when I wasn’t very lovable.

Through a new church.

Through a Celebrate Recovery I had simply been invited to.

Through tiny moments that didn’t seem important at the time, but would eventually change the entire direction of my life.

On August 3, 2020, God did for me what I had never been able to do for myself.

He set me free.

In just a few weeks, I’ll celebrate six years of sobriety. For a long time, I thought that was the miracle.

Then life threw me a curveball I never saw coming.

The Accident That Changed Everything

A devastating car accident nearly killed me.

My neck was broken. My back was fractured in seven places. My lungs collapsed. Eight ribs cracked. My body was broken in more ways than I can count.

Doctors weren’t sure I would survive.

Later, they weren’t sure I would ever walk again.

I spent months in hospitals, months confined to a bed, and more than a year in a wheelchair. I had to learn how to walk twice.

And if I’m being honest, there were moments when I wasn’t sure I could keep going.

Not because I wanted to die. I didn’t.

I was just tired.

Tired of pain.

Tired of surgeries.

Tired of setbacks.

Tired of wondering why someone could survive addiction only to wake up in a hospital bed, on life support, fighting for their life anyway.

That’s the thing nobody tells you about suffering.

Sometimes it doesn’t make sense. Sometimes there isn’t a neat little bow to tie around it. Sometimes all you can do is put one foot in front of the other and trust God with questions you don’t have answers for.

So that’s exactly what I did.

One painful step at a time.

Literally.

What Grew From Broken Soil

Somewhere between the hospital bed, the wheelchair, the many therapy sessions, and the many tears, God started teaching me something that changed the way I see everything.

Some things can only grow in broken soil.

I would’ve never chosen addiction. I would’ve never chosen trauma or PTSD. I would’ve never chosen chronic pain. I would’ve never chosen any of it.

But some of the compassion I have today grew from those places.

Some of the empathy I have today grew from those places.

The things I begged God to remove became some of the very things He used.

A Front Row Seat to Grace

Today, I sponsor women. I’ve led step studies. I’ve ministered in jails. I’ve sat across from women who were convinced they were too far gone and watched God prove them wrong.

I get a front row seat to watching Him change lives.

Not because I have it all figured out. Not because I’ve arrived. But because I’ve learned that people don’t need a perfect leader.

They need someone willing to be honest.

And honestly, I still have hard days.

I still live with chronic pain.

I still cry sometimes.

I still ask God questions.

But I’ve stopped asking, “Why me?” and started asking, “God, what are You teaching me here?”

That one shift changed everything.

When I Look Back

When I look back now, I don’t see addiction. I don’t see a trauma center. I don’t see a wheelchair. I don’t even see all the mistakes I made.

When I look back, I see God.

I see Him chasing me when I was running.

I see Him carrying me when I couldn’t walk.

I see Him providing when I didn’t know how I’d make it.

I see Him loving me when I couldn’t love myself.

I see Him writing chapter after chapter when I was convinced the story was over.

Maybe that’s why you’re reading this today.

Not because my story is special, but because your story isn’t over either.

If my life has taught me anything, it’s this:

The chapter you’re in is not the whole story.

Keep turning the page.

One day, you’ll look back too.

And when you do, I pray you’ll see what I see.

God was there the whole time.

“I would have lost heart unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.”

Psalm 27:13

Pause & Reflect

Take a quiet moment with the parts of this story that stayed with you.

Where have you seen grace in a chapter you never would have chosen?
What part of your story have you been tempted to call “over” that God may still be writing?
Is there one small step of hope, support, surrender, or honesty you can take today?

Gentle Next Steps

Lindsey’s story speaks to recovery, resilience, chronic pain, and the grace that keeps showing up in unfinished places. If you are walking through your own difficult chapter, these GraceStone resources may offer a quiet place to begin.

When I Look Back, I See God