There’s something about fall that always makes me stop and breathe.
Maybe it’s the cooler air, or the way the trees seem to know exactly when to let go.
I love how everything slows down a little — how the world feels softer somehow.
But for a long time, fall was hard for me.
It became the season when everything seemed to crumble — when one loss came after another, and I wasn’t sure I had the strength to stand.
Before that season of heartbreak, life was good — full, hopeful, and blessed.
In our early years of parenting, the weekend we had our oldest son baptized and our youngest dedicated to the Lord felt like one of those “mountaintop” moments. We were standing in the middle of God’s blessings — three healthy boys, a new home, and a deep love for one another.
We were also just a few car payments away from being completely debt-free except for our house. My husband had been blessed with a strong salary, and we did our best to live as good stewards of what God had entrusted to us. We had been following Dave Ramsey’s Financial Peace University, and for the first time, we could see freedom on the horizon. Everything felt secure, steady, and strong — like we were standing on solid ground.
That same weekend, my husband — who was refereeing then and still does today — was hit on the field. What seemed like a small injury at the time became the beginning of decades of knee pain and surgeries — one knee replacement behind him and, eventually, the need for another.
But even that weekend, I remember praying a bold prayer:
“God, You have blessed us so much. Use our family in a mighty way.”
I said it with a full heart, not realizing that prayer would mark the beginning of one of the hardest and most refining seasons of our lives. I think my husband really wanted to say, “Will you consult me next time you pray that boldly” haha! And I know God must have whispered to me, “Hold on my child because I need to prepare you for your request to be used” haha!
Because the following Monday, everything changed.
My husband came under attack at work. What started as tension became a season of hardship that followed him through two different jobs. Eventually, God led him down a path that didn’t look like success to the world, but it would forever change the story of our family.
He went from earning a six-figure income to taking care of our church facility. It was humbling, stretching, and completely out of our comfort zone. But it was also holy.
That step of obedience eventually led him to become the Director of Operations for our church home — a position that aligned his gifts with God’s purpose.
And that calling didn’t just shape him — it shaped all of us.
Our boys grew up spending countless hours at the church — doing homework after school in quiet hallways, playing ball in the halls when no one else was around, learning the rhythm of serving by watching their dad, and hanging out with ministers who showed them that they’re everyday people called to spread the gospel. Even when the church doors weren’t officially open, they were there.
It changed the course of how we raised our sons and the kind of family we became.
We became Team Robinson — learning together, serving together, and trusting that God was writing a story far deeper than our plans.
This is also when Jeremiah 29:11 became our family life verse:
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” — Jeremiah 29:11
That verse became our anchor. We clung to it when life felt uncertain and when the enemy pressed hard against us. We learned what spiritual warfare truly was. We were under attack — financially, emotionally, and spiritually — but we also learned what it meant to stand firm, to pray together, and to fight our battles in faith.
We discovered that obedience may cost something, but it also builds something lasting — faith, character, and the kind of legacy that can’t be bought or earned, only lived.
Still, the journey wasn’t easy. The pay cut for going to work at the church was significant. The humility was real. Eventually, the financial weight led us to file bankruptcy.
It was one of the most painful chapters of our lives. But even in that, God was rebuilding us — physically, financially, and spiritually.
As we were trying to heal financially — carrying the weight of exhaustion and trying to understand the drastic financial and career change — the years that followed brought more loss than I ever expected to endure.
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18
I didn’t realize it then, but after the bankruptcy, I began to retreat — slowly, quietly pulling away from people. I wasn’t angry; I was just tired. Worn. Embarrassed that life led us down that road. Unsure of who I was anymore. I was trying to find my footing again after so much change, and the safest place I knew was behind my husband.
He became my shield — my steady place when the world felt unsteady. My protector when life kept hitting hard.
Wave After Wave
In October 2012, my father-in-law passed away from heart failure — one of those sudden, gut-wrenching phone calls that stops time. Just one year later, in November 2013, my mom died unexpectedly from a massive heart attack.
Then, in December 2014, my brother passed away.
By then, I was exhausted — not just physically, but soul tired. It felt like wave after wave kept crashing over me, and I could barely catch my breath.
I was still showing up for everyone — for my husband, my boys, my friends, my church — but inside I was empty. Grief had settled deep into my bones.
And just when I thought the waves might calm, October 2017 brought another battle: breast cancer.
That diagnosis came after years of heartbreak, and it felt like my body had finally joined the fight my heart had been waging for so long. Treatments began. My body ached. Radiation became my daily routine, and the physical weariness mirrored the spiritual exhaustion I’d been carrying for years.
But underneath it all, something holy was happening. God was rebuilding me from the inside out.
“But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary.” — Isaiah 40:31
Breast cancer became the wake-up call my soul needed. It forced me to slow down, to lean in, and to listen to the One who had been holding me through it all.
That season — bankruptcy, loss, and illness — all led to one truth: I had stopped walking beside my husband and had quietly slipped behind him. He had become my safety and security in the storm. But even there, God was preparing me for something more.
He was about to remind me who He created me to be.
Becoming an Ezer — From the Shadows to Strength
During that long season of exhaustion, I didn’t even know where to stand anymore — especially in my marriage.
My husband was faithfully leading our family, but I was too tired and too broken to keep up. In my weakness, I quietly slipped behind him — not because he asked me to, but because I didn’t feel worthy to walk beside him.
He was also my safety and security. After so many unexpected storms, I lived braced for the next one. I never knew when life would shift again or when I’d need to retreat and catch my breath. So walking behind him felt safe.
I was depleted. Confused. Lost.
But God, in His mercy, didn’t leave me there.
As my body healed and my spirit began to awaken again, He whispered something that changed everything:
“Pam, get out from behind him. I didn’t create you to walk in the shadows. You are an Ezer — a warrior, a helper, a reflection of My strength. Walk beside him and with him, not from behind him.”
That whisper marked the beginning of restoration.
God invited me to rise — to rebuild not just my health and finances, but my identity. He called me to study His Word, to know who He is and who I am as His daughter. That’s when I began studying the women of the Bible, and through their stories, I began to understand my own.
That’s when I discovered what it truly means to be an Ezer.
When I studied Eve’s story, I didn’t just see the first woman — I saw God’s reflection in every woman. We are created in His image, designed with purpose, and formed with strength.
“So God created mankind in His own image, in the image of God He created them; male and female He created them.” — Genesis 1:27
In Genesis 2:18, when God called Eve a helper, the Hebrew word used was ezer. That word doesn’t mean “assistant.” It means warrior.
It’s the same word Scripture uses to describe God as Israel’s defender and deliverer:
“We wait in hope for the Lord; He is our help (ezer) and our shield.” — Psalm 33:20
That changed everything for me.
I realized I wasn’t created to be weak, quiet, or hidden — I was created to be strong, steadfast, and ready.
I was made in the image of a God who rescues, restores, and redeems.
To be an Ezer means to stand beside, to protect, to intercede, to fight in prayer, and to carry the strength of God into every battle.
Team Robinson — Strength in Surrender
Now, looking back, I can see how every hard season became part of God’s refining work in our family. What once felt like devastation was actually divine reconstruction — a slow, steady rebuilding of our faith and purpose.
My husband’s obedience to step into his role as Director of Operations at our church was one of those pivotal moments. It didn’t look like success to the world, but it became the anchor of our story. His quiet faithfulness showed all of us that real ministry isn’t about titles or applause — it’s about showing up where God calls you and serving with humility.
Our boys grew up surrounded by that example. They saw that faith isn’t just something you talk about on Sundays — it’s something you live out on ordinary days. They learned that the gospel is lived in how you treat people, how you serve when no one notices, and how you trust when you can’t see the outcome.
That’s where Team Robinson was really formed — in the unseen places, in the waiting, in the stretching, and in the surrender.
During that time, we learned to read the verses beyond verse 11 of Jeremiah 29.
Jeremiah 29:11–14 became more than verses we quoted — it became the heartbeat of our family:
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you.
You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.
I will be found by you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back from captivity.”
— Jeremiah 29:11–14
In many ways, we felt like we were living in exile — stripped of what we thought life would look like and forced to rely completely on God. But through that exile, we learned to stop asking “Why is life falling apart?” and start asking “Lord, what are You teaching us as You put it back together?”
It turns out, our life wasn’t falling apart — it was falling into place.
Through those years, we discovered that surrender isn’t the end of the story — it’s the soil where faith grows deepest. We learned how to pray through uncertainty, how to listen when God was silent, and how to see His hand in the waiting. We learned how to apply God’s Word to our life.
That’s the strength of surrender — not controlling the outcome, but trusting the One who already knows the ending.
As a wife, I’ve learned that submission isn’t about stepping back — it’s about walking in step with God’s design.
“Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord.” — Ephesians 5:22
There’s peace in knowing that God can use even exile to grow something beautiful.
Through every loss, every rebuilding, and every quiet act of obedience — Team Robinson has become a family shaped by faith, strengthened by surrender, and grounded in grace.
An Ezer Warrior’s Heart
Being an Ezer doesn’t mean I live without fear or pain. It means I fight differently.
I fight with prayer.
I fight with faith.
I fight with love.
And I fight from my knees.
Each scar, each loss, each battle has become part of my armor — a reminder that I serve a God who wastes nothing.
“The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds.” — 2 Corinthians 10:4
“The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in Him, and He helps me.” — Psalm 28:7
The Beauty of God’s Design
Some may think the Bible calls women to weakness through words like “submit” and “serve.” But that’s because they haven’t looked closely enough.
Submission isn’t about silence — it’s about strength under God’s authority. Service isn’t about being small — it’s about reflecting the heart of Christ, who “did not come to be served, but to serve.” — Matthew 20:28
God didn’t intend for us to do life alone. From the very beginning He said, “It is not good for man to be alone.” — Genesis 2:18
He created us to walk together — husband and wife, family and community — side by side, carrying His image and His purpose into the world.
To be an Ezer is to reflect the heart of God — strong and gentle, fierce and faithful, humble and brave.
A Warrior’s Prayer
Lord, thank You for meeting me in the valley — in my financial stress, my grief, my illness, my exhaustion, and my fear.
Thank You for creating me as an Ezer — strong, purposeful, and made in Your image.Teach me to fight not with anger, but with intercession.Help me to love deeply, pray boldly, and trust fully. Bless my husband as he leads our family. Give him wisdom, endurance, and peace. Unite us as Team Robinson — a family rebuilt by Your grace. May our story remind others that even when everything feels broken, You are still building. You are still healing.You are still fighting for us.
I am an Ezer — a warrior, a woman, called to be a reflection of my Creator.
And every time I pray, trust, and love, I step into that truth again. In Jesus’ Name, Amen!
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