I’m still the same sports-loving, funny, considerate, passionate boy I was when I was a kid. The years have thrown a lot at me, and a disability changes others’ perception of me – perhaps even my self-perception, but who I am is still much the same as I always have been.

While I know that to be true, I still find it so odd when I run into a former teammate or coach in public. It’s like: “Could they tell something was wrong with me back then? Do they recognize me? What do they think about me now? Do I speak to them?”

Even though I’m the same person they liked back in the day, it feels so weird. I used to always run into one of my coach pitch coaches at Planet Fitness. He was one of my favorite coaches as a kid, and we never once spoke at the gym. 

I am not blaming it on him, though. It gave me a weird feeling, too. I feel like because of my abilities, I’m not even the same person that I used to be. I get a feeling of shame when I run into church friends from my childhood or friends from sports teams I was on – like I’m not worthy of their attention anymore. My voice is scratchy, I use a device to walk and my legs have obviously lost mass due to atrophy. 

I remember people from Crawford Road Baptist (my childhood church) thinking I was the town’s next greatest athlete when I was in elementary school. I remember a bunch of them showing up to my baseball game one time and going crazy when I made a diving play and cheering me on when I slapped a ball into the outfield. I really miss that feeling.

I also vividly remember crushing an underhand toss from my grandfather and circling the “bases” around the couch at my grandparent’s house like I was Brian McCann. I was about 4-years-old, all decked out in my Braves jersey and helmet while the Braves played on the TV. Ball was my first word and first love. You can imagine what a gut punch it was when I had to quit sports in my sophomore year of high school.

When I was younger, my coaches showed great confidence in me, but as FA came into the picture, that changed. I remember my coach at Smiths Station in my freshman year asking if I had ever played baseball before. “Yeah, I started when I was 5,” I replied to his surprise.

My abilities shifted so quickly, but no matter how much my abilities decline, my personality never does. I feel as if my attitude has only improved over the years, in fact. I have dealt with a lot of anxiety, sadness and frustration in recent years, but I still love the same things: God, family, sports, laughing and encouraging others. Those feelings I am and did work through have only made me stronger and more courageous. There’s purpose in the pain.

I’ll always remember another thing my dad said at my sister and I’s graduation party: “It might seem like Noah has risen to the challenge recently, but he’s always been that strong.” With that, he told a story of how an umpire bragged on me in little league for having the best attitude on the field.

What I’m trying to say is: never forget who you are. Never lose sight of the special qualities God gave you because it’s how you make a difference in this world. It looks way different HOW I do it now, but I feel like I’ve been able to encourage others now more than ever through writing and speaking than I ever did on the baseball field or basketball court. This is never the path I would’ve chosen, but it’s the one that has forced me to build character.

I’m just another testament to the fact that God can use ANYONE for His glory, and the loss of my abilities add to that instead of diminishing it.