Stronger Than the Struggle: A Story of Faith, Fitness, and Motherhood

Chapter 1: Where It All Began

I’ve learned over the years that most people don’t need a perfect story; they need an honest one.

This is mine.

I learned early on that life doesn’t always unfold the way we expect. Even as a child, I understood that strength wasn’t just something you had in your body; it was something you carried in your heart. My upbringing shaped me in ways I didn’t fully understand at the time, but looking back now, I can see how God was quietly laying a foundation long before I ever recognized it.

Like many women, I dreamed of motherhood. I assumed it would happen easily, naturally, and on my timeline. What I didn’t know was that my journey would include waiting, uncertainty, and seasons that would stretch my faith further than I ever imagined.

There were moments when I questioned my body, my worth, and even God’s timing. Infertility has a way of making you feel isolated, like you’re standing still while the rest of the world moves forward. I learned quickly that grief doesn’t always look loud; sometimes it looks like silent prayers and unanswered questions.

Through it all, my faith didn’t disappear; it changed. It became less about certainty and more about trust. Less about control and more about surrender.

At the same time, my health and fitness journey mirrored much of what was happening internally. I struggled with consistency, energy, confidence, and feeling at home in my own body. Movement became more than exercise; it became a place of healing, clarity, and eventually, purpose.

I didn’t set out to build a business or become a coach. I simply wanted to feel better. Stronger. More like myself again. What I discovered was that when you begin caring for your body, you often begin restoring your spirit, too.

This story isn’t just about fitness.

It’s about faith.

It’s about motherhood.

It’s about learning to keep going when life doesn’t go as planned.

And if you’re reading this, whether you’re my child, my client, or someone searching for hope, I want you to know this:

You are not alone.

Your story matters.

And God is still working, even in the waiting.

Chapter 2: The Waiting

Waiting is one of the hardest things we’re ever asked to do, especially when the desire is so deep it feels woven into who you are.

When I began trying to get pregnant, I never imagined the journey would be filled with months of disappointment and quiet heartbreak. I assumed it would happen quickly, the way it seemed to for everyone else around me. Instead, each passing month became a reminder that my timeline was not unfolding the way I had planned.

Infertility has a way of touching every part of your life. It shows up in conversations you didn’t expect, in pregnancy announcements that sting more than you want to admit, and in prayers that start to feel repetitive. There were days when I felt hopeful and strong, and others when I felt completely exhausted, emotionally, physically, and spiritually.

During that season, my faith was tested in ways it never had been before. I believed in God, but trusting Him when the answer felt like silence was something entirely different. I wrestled with questions I never thought I’d ask. Why not me? Did I do something wrong? Am I being punished? Those thoughts crept in quietly, especially during the long nights when my heart felt heavier than my body.

What I came to learn, though, was that waiting doesn’t mean God is absent. It means He is working in ways we can’t yet see.

There were moments when my prayers changed. Instead of asking for immediate answers, I began asking for strength, peace, and the ability to trust God even when I didn’t understand His plan. My faith grew deeper, not because the struggle disappeared, but because I had no choice but to lean into it.

Infertility taught me compassion in a way nothing else could. It softened my heart toward other women who were quietly carrying their own pain. It reminded me that everyone is walking through something, even when it isn’t visible on the surface.

Most importantly, it taught me that my worth was not defined by my ability to conceive. I was still whole. I was still loved. I was still chosen, regardless of the outcome.

If you’re in a season of waiting, I want you to know this: your prayers are not being ignored. God sees you. He hears you. And even when the road feels long and lonely, you are not forgotten.

The waiting didn’t break me, but it did shape me. It strengthened my faith, refined my patience, and prepared my heart in ways I couldn’t have imagined at the time.

And though I didn’t know it then, this season would become a foundation for everything that came next.

Chapter 3: Losing Myself and Finding Strength Again

Motherhood has a way of stretching you in every direction at once.

During the years when my children were still young, I found myself carrying more than just the physical demands of raising a family. Behind the scenes, I was walking through a season of deep emotional strain within my marriage. What should have felt like a partnership often felt heavy, confusing, and lonely.

There were days when simply getting through the day felt like an accomplishment. I learned to put on a brave face, pack lunches, wipe away tears, and show up for everyone else, all while quietly holding my own heart together. I smiled when I needed to. I pushed forward when everything in me wanted to rest. I did what so many women do: I kept going, even when I didn’t feel okay.

That season tested me in ways I never expected. Communication felt strained. Trust felt fragile. And with small children depending on me, I often felt caught between exhaustion and responsibility. I didn’t have the luxury of falling apart completely, even when my heart desperately needed healing.

Once again, my faith became my anchor.

I leaned into God in a way I never had before, not because I was strong, but because I was empty. I prayed for clarity, peace, and wisdom. I asked God to carry what I couldn’t, to heal what felt broken, and to guide me through decisions I didn’t feel equipped to make on my own.

And slowly, often imperceptibly, things began to change.

Healing didn’t happen overnight. Restoration took time, humility, and commitment. But God met us in that difficult season, and today I can say with gratitude that my marriage stands stronger and more devoted than ever. That kind of renewal didn’t happen because we were perfect; it happened because God was faithful.

At the same time, I had lost touch with myself.

Between motherhood, emotional exhaustion, and trying to hold everything together, my own health had taken a back seat. I felt disconnected from my body, my energy, and my confidence. I didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror anymore, and I missed her.

That’s when movement became more than just exercise.

Fitness became a place where I could breathe again. A space where I could release stress, rebuild strength, and reconnect with who I was beneath the weight of everything I was carrying. Each workout was a reminder that even when life feels heavy, strength can still be built, one step, one rep, one choice at a time.

This season taught me that strength isn’t about pretending everything is okay. It’s about showing up honestly, trusting God through the mess, and allowing healing to unfold in His timing.

I didn’t just find my strength again, I rebuilt it, from the inside out.

Chapter 4: Strength From the Inside Out

There came a point when I realized that healing couldn’t happen in just one area of my life. I couldn’t pray without caring for my body, and I couldn’t move my body without tending to my heart and mind. Everything was connected.

For a long time, I had been running on empty, physically tired, emotionally drained, and spiritually worn down. I loved God, but I was learning that faith didn’t mean ignoring my needs. It meant stewarding what God had given me, including my body, my thoughts, and my time.

Movement became my daily reset.

It wasn’t about chasing a certain number on the scale or fitting into a smaller size. It was about showing up, sometimes exhausted, sometimes unmotivated, and choosing to move anyway. With each workout, I felt a little more grounded, a little more capable, and a little more like myself again.

As my body grew stronger, my mindset began to shift.

I stopped seeing exercise as punishment and began to see it as a gift. A way to release stress, quiet my thoughts, and reconnect with God. Some of my clearest prayers came during early-morning workouts, when the house was still quiet, and my heart was finally open.

Faith, too, took on a deeper meaning.

I began to understand that trusting God wasn’t passive; it required action. It meant showing up faithfully in small, daily choices. Choosing nourishment over restriction. Choosing grace over guilt. Choosing consistency over perfection.

The more I moved my body, the more I believed in what it could do. The more I believed, the more confident I became, not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually. Strength started to feel holistic. I wasn’t just getting stronger muscles; I was building resilience.

God used this season to teach me that true wellness isn’t about doing everything perfectly. It’s about alignment, mind, body, and spirit working together. When one area is neglected, everything feels off. But when they’re nurtured together, healing happens in ways you can’t manufacture on your own.

This is where I learned that fitness could be a form of worship.

Not loud or flashy, but faithful. Showing gratitude for the body I had been given and honoring God by caring for it. What once felt like another obligation became sacred time, a moment to breathe, to reflect, and to rebuild.

This season didn’t just change how I moved.

It changed how I lived.

And without realizing it at the time, God was preparing me for something bigger than myself.

Chapter 5: The Birth of Workout Moms Fitness

For a long time, I was doing what many people do: I was working a full-time job I had mastered. I was good at it. I knew the routine. I showed up, did what was expected of me, and went home. On the outside, everything looked fine.

But on the inside, something felt incomplete.

I remember asking myself, What am I really bringing to the table? I believed in God, and I wanted my life to reflect that belief. I wanted my days to have meaning beyond just checking off tasks. I longed for a mission, something that allowed me to use my experiences to help build God’s kingdom and serve others in a real way.

So I prayed.

I didn’t pray for a business or a title. I prayed for direction. I asked God to show me something I could do for Him, something I would love, something that could help other women, especially those walking through struggles I knew all too well.

And then, in a way only God can orchestrate, a light came on.

The idea for Workout Moms Fitness wasn’t forced or rushed. It felt clear, purposeful, and deeply personal. God began to reveal how everything I had walked through, infertility, motherhood, marriage struggles, emotional exhaustion, rebuilding my health, and strengthening my faith, was not wasted. It was preparation.

I realized God wasn’t asking me to do something brand new. He was inviting me to use what I had already lived through.

Workout Moms Fitness was born from obedience, not perfection. It was built on the belief that women don’t need another program telling them they aren’t enough. They need encouragement, community, and guidance that honors their whole selves, mind, body, and spirit.

I wanted to help women the way God had helped me. To walk beside them through seasons of exhaustion, doubt, and overwhelm. To remind them that caring for their health isn’t selfish, it’s stewardship. And that faith and fitness don’t compete; they work together.

What started as a simple yes to God became something far greater than I imagined. Workout Moms Fitness became a place where women could feel seen, supported, and strengthened, not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually too.

This wasn’t just a career shift.

It was a calling.

God took my past experiences and turned them into purpose. He opened a door I never could have forced open myself, and through it, I found the mission I had been praying for all along.

Chapter 6: Why I Share My Story

If you’ve made it this far, I want you to know something: this story isn’t about me alone. It’s about what God can do when we keep showing up, even when life feels heavy and uncertain.

I share my story first for my children.

I want you to know that strength doesn’t come from a perfect life. It comes from faith, perseverance, and trusting God when the path isn’t clear. I want you to understand that there will be seasons when you feel stretched, tired, or unsure of yourself, and that’s okay. God is still working, even then. Especially then.

I share my story with my clients.

So many women come into fitness believing they have failed too many times or that they’re starting too late. I want you to see that progress doesn’t come from punishment or pressure; it comes from consistency, grace, and belief. Your body is not the enemy. Your mind matters. And your faith can be a source of strength in every step of your journey.

And I share my story for you, the woman who might be quietly struggling.

Maybe you’re in a season of waiting.

Maybe your marriage feels heavy.

Maybe you’re exhausted from caring for everyone else and feel like you’ve lost yourself along the way.

I want you to know you are not alone.

God doesn’t waste pain. He uses it. He redeems it. And often, He turns it into purpose, not all at once, but step by step. Faith and fitness have taught me the same lesson: you don’t have to have it all figured out. You just have to take the next faithful step.

This journey has shown me that strength isn’t just something we build in our bodies; it’s something we cultivate in our hearts. When we care for our minds, move our bodies, and anchor ourselves in faith, healing unfolds in ways we never could have planned.

If my story encourages even one woman to keep going, to trust God a little more, or to believe she is capable of change, then sharing it has been worth it.

Because you are stronger than the struggle.

And with God, strength is always being built, even in the hardest seasons.

~Rebecca Coffey

Aging Gracefully Through Faith and Fitness