I don’t remember much about my life before I got saved—I was only six years old—but I remember the day like it was yesterday. I had been in church since I was in my mother’s womb, but something about the summer of 1996 felt different. That was the first time I truly began to understand what they were trying to teach me in Sunday School.
One day, I was sitting at my grandmother’s dinner table waiting for supper when my heart began to ache—not in a painful way, but with a heaviness I couldn’t explain. My mind started racing, trying to figure out why I felt that way. All through dinner, I had conversations, but I couldn’t tell you what they were about. My mind was somewhere else entirely.
After supper, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I slipped away to my grandmother’s bedroom and hid behind the bed. When she found me, she took one look and knew something was wrong. The only words I could get out were, “I need to be saved.”
She dropped everything and led me in a prayer that went something like this:
Dear God,
I know that I have sinned and need Your forgiveness.
Thank You for sending Jesus to die for my sins and rise again.
I turn from my old ways and ask You to come into my life.
Please save me, forgive me, and help me follow You.
I trust in You alone for my salvation.
In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.
The relief that washed over me was unforgettable. I was in awe.
When my parents came to pick me up, I couldn’t wait to tell them, “I’m going to be in Heaven with you one day.” They were overjoyed—they had been praying for my salvation for a long time. My mom immediately called our pastor and asked, “Is the baptismal full? Brandi just asked Jesus into her heart.” As it turned out, it had already been filled, and I was baptized the very next day.
“God Moment” #1
Looking back, I see with 20/20 vision that God has always been guiding my steps.
One of those pivotal moments came when I was 12. I had played softball for years—rec league, travel team, and now, I’d been selected as an all-star third baseman. But one night, before practice, I begged my parents to let me stay home. I didn’t know why—softball was my favorite thing. But now I believe God was preparing me for something.
That night, during practice, I was fielding at third when a ball was hit right toward me. It looked like a normal hit, but it struck a rock just a few feet in front of me and bounced up, hitting me directly in the face. I remember spitting out blood… and then blacking out. My coach handed me my tooth, and the next thing I knew, I was in my dad’s Jeep, headed to emergency surgery. They wired my tooth to the others so it could reattach, but eventually, my body rejected it and I needed an implant.
That night changed my life. After that, I lost heart for the game and eventually quit. Softball had been my identity, and I suddenly didn’t know who I was.
“God Moment” #2
But that loss cleared the way for something else. I began to pour myself into school—just in time for high school. That’s when I fell in love with math, science, and computer science, which later became the focus of my college studies. I earned my undergrad degree, then went to MTSU for a Ph.D. in Computational Science.
The first year was wonderful. I loved every minute. But in the second year, the joy started to fade. I found myself alone in independent studies or in classes I didn’t enjoy. During one of those tough sessions, my professor looked at me and said, “Brandi, you don’t understand, do you?” I had to admit the truth: “No.” Then she said something that would eventually change everything: “Why don’t you get your master’s in math and teach high school? I think you’d be great at it.”
I brushed it off—me, a teacher? No way.
But the math got more complex, and eventually, I hit my “math wall.” I left the Ph.D. program and graduated with a master’s in mathematics. I had no idea what to do next. I even interviewed for a research job at Vanderbilt modeling monkey hearing using math. It was the worst interview I’ve ever had—so embarrassing!
After a lot of prayer, God reminded me how much I’d loved teaching my own class during grad school. So, I applied to teach high school math. Two schools offered me a job, even though I didn’t have a teaching degree yet. They told me I could work while going back to school.
That was an answered prayer. At the time, I was working at Kohl’s just to pay the bills.
The first semester of teaching was rough. But we got to move back home, and I started teaching at Farragut High. God used that school to grow me into the teacher I was meant to be. I stayed for seven years, until my next “God moment.”
“God Moment” #3
We got pregnant.
At eight weeks, we saw the baby’s strong heartbeat. But at my 10-week appointment, there was no heartbeat on the Doppler. They did an ultrasound—and the baby had died at 9½ weeks. I was crushed. I called my husband at work and could only say, “We have a baby in Heaven.”
The miscarriage process was long and traumatic—over three months of emotional and physical pain. I couldn’t understand why it happened. I was angry with God. That season was one of the darkest times in my life.
But on the other side of it, I see now that God was preparing me to comfort others. Since then, I’ve had so many chances to share empathy, compassion, and His love.
Five months later, we found out we were pregnant again—on March 6, 2020, right before the world shut down. I was thrilled but terrified. Things went mostly smoothly until I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes at 28 weeks. I had to check my blood sugar four times a day and give myself insulin shots.
Then, at 37½ weeks, I got COVID.
I was quarantined, giving myself blood thinner shots, and going to the hospital alone for tests. It was terrifying. Nine days before my due date, I went into labor. Three hours after arriving at the hospital, my son was born—but I didn’t have time for an epidural, and I had to go into emergency surgery afterward. I hated being separated from him.
Because I’d had COVID, they had to test my newborn. I heard him scream down the hall—it was awful. But he tested negative twice, and I finally had peace.
Then postpartum hit. Two weeks later, I was diagnosed with postpartum anxiety and depression. Medication helped, but I still felt off. Therapy and counseling followed, but after four years of struggling, my doctor referred me to a psychiatrist. I was diagnosed with Bipolar Depression II.
It was hard to accept because of the stigma—but honestly, I was more relieved than upset. I finally had a diagnosis. After a year of adjusting medications, I finally feel like myself again.
Through those four years, my faith is what carried me. My daily prayer was: “God, give me Your strength, because I have none of my own.” And He did. I wouldn’t be here today without Him.
“God Moment” #4
The most recent “God moment” happened just this past fall. Doctors found a nodule on my thyroid. The ultrasound revealed a 4.5 cm mass—and the technician turned out to be one of my student’s moms. Because she knew how much I cared about my job, she made sure I got an endocrinology appointment fast. I had surgery in November, and the pathology report showed it was partly cancer—but it was contained within my thyroid. No radiation needed. Another answered prayer.
This seems like a lot for one person to handle in about a five-year timespan. However, it wasn’t—because God was with me the whole time. He’s allowed me to see why I went through all of this – it’s my story.
Back to teaching… in my very first interview, the woman asked me, “What would you want your obituary to say about you?” And without hesitation, I said, “That I made a difference in one person’s life.”
God has allowed that to happen—not just once, but multiple times.
As a teacher, I encounter all kinds of students—from the brightest minds to the quiet helpers, from the ones bursting with joy to the ones silently battling anxiety and depression. And I’ve come to see that none of my experiences were wasted. Every trial, every tear, every moment of fear or brokenness has been used by God to shape me into someone who can relate. Someone who can listen. Someone who can understand.
God has called me to be His missionary in a field where He has often been removed—mathematics education. I can’t preach in the classroom. I can’t openly push what I believe. But students know something is different about me. They feel it in how I carry myself, how I treat them, how I show up day after day. They know they can come to me and be heard—not judged.
I say all this to say… God is directing your path too.
He will NEVER leave you. There is purpose in your pain, and there is meaning in your waiting. You may not see it now—but one day, you’ll look back and understand why. So keep going. Let your obituary say that you changed even one life—not because of who you are, but because of what God did through you.
Be the light. Be available. Be faithful.
And above all—give Him the glory.
