Author’s Note: I’ve written about faith that burns like fire. I’ve written truths that felt like prophecy in my bones. But on this day? My faith didn’t feel poetic. It felt tired. Heavy. Like trying to hold a conversation with God through a mouthful of water. This post isn’t me preaching. It’s me gasping. And… Continue reading God, I’m Drowning In Real Life – What Do You Mean “Come To Me”?
Tag: writing
Faith for the Overthinkers: When You Want God But Can’t Turn Off Your Brain
A short note from me : If you’ve read my other writing, you’ve seen me speak boldly about faith, healing, and spiritual truths. But just because I’ve stood in strength doesn’t mean I don’t still wrestle in weakness. I’m not a preacher or a theologist— I’m a survivor, a seeker, and sometimes, more lately than… Continue reading Faith for the Overthinkers: When You Want God But Can’t Turn Off Your Brain
Grace for the Ones Who Don’t Know How to Read the Bible Right Now
To the one who was shamed for not being ‘spiritual enough’ while your world was falling apart. I want to talk to the ones no one talks to. The ones who sat in their car after getting the worst phone call of their life, whispering “God, I don’t know what to do”—and then heard silence… Continue reading Grace for the Ones Who Don’t Know How to Read the Bible Right Now
The Crushing is Not The Curse
“We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.” —2 Corinthians 4:8–9 If you’re feeling the heat right now— the kind that makes your bones ache and your lungs sting, your prayers turn to silence, and your hope feel like… Continue reading The Crushing is Not The Curse
The Curse And The Crown
They don’t tell you that having a sensitive soul can feel like bleeding quietly in a world that calls your wounds weakness. That it’s not just about feeling deeply—it’s about carrying pain that was never yours to begin with. It’s loving people who only knew how to take. It’s being the place everyone runs to… Continue reading The Curse And The Crown
The Gift Beyond The Grave
Before the dawn, before the stone was rolled, Love wrote a story the prophets foretold. Not with ink, but with crimson red, He bore the cross, where great mercy bled. The King of Heaven, clothed in grace, Chose the thorns, took my place. Each lash, each nail, each cry in pain— A ransom paid, our… Continue reading The Gift Beyond The Grave
If Compassion Hides Abuse Part 2 – Self Reflection
Deep thought… If Compassion Hides Abuse, Then What Does Connection Even Mean? She asked me why. Why I pull away from kindness. Why compassion makes me freeze. And I told her something I didn’t even know I knew until I said it out loud: “Because compassion hides abuse.” And now I can’t stop thinking about… Continue reading If Compassion Hides Abuse Part 2 – Self Reflection
When Compassion Feels Like a Threat
“You don’t respond well to compassion,” she said. And before I could think, before I could edit, I answered: “Because compassion hides abuse.” I didn’t even know I believed that. But the second the words left my mouth, they hit the air like they’d been waiting years to be spoken. It didn’t feel like clarity.… Continue reading When Compassion Feels Like a Threat
5 YEARS CLEAN!!!!!! A War Story With No Hero, Just a Mother Who Refused to Die
I don’t talk about this part of my story much. Maybe because the scars still burn. Maybe because it was so dark, I didn’t think I’d make it back to the light. Maybe because I still remember what it felt like to want to die more than I wanted to breathe— Not because I didn’t… Continue reading 5 YEARS CLEAN!!!!!! A War Story With No Hero, Just a Mother Who Refused to Die
Letter to my Daughter on her Baptism Day
My precious Abby Girl, You’ve always known Him. Before you could talk in full sentences. Before you ever heard a sermon or sat in a Sunday school chair. Before anyone could explain “Jesus loves you” — you were already smiling up at the ceiling, babbling to someone I couldn’t see. And I see it now.… Continue reading Letter to my Daughter on her Baptism Day
Letters From the Edge 