There are seasons when life changes so much that you look in the mirror and barely recognize the person staring back at you. Not because your appearance has changed, but because something inside you feels different. You remember the person you used to be—the person who laughed easily, made plans, enjoyed certain hobbies, and looked forward to the future. That person had dreams, preferences, and an identity that wasn’t completely connected to what everyone else needed. Then li

Some people do not miss the old you because they loved you better. They miss the old you because the old you had no boundaries. The old you said yes when you wanted to say no. You showed up for everyone, even when no one showed up for you. You answered every call, carried everyone’s burdens, and made yourself available—even when you were exhausted, overwhelmed, and falling apart inside. You kept quiet to keep the peace. You accepted apologies without changed behavior. You tol

One of the hardest parts of grief is not always missing the person. Sometimes it is still having things you want to tell them. Something happens and for just a second, you think: I have to call them. You hear a joke they would have loved. Something good happens and they are the first person you want to tell. Something goes wrong and you already know what they would say. You can almost hear the words in your head. But knowing what they would say is not the same as hearing them

Somewhere along the way, couples can stop dating and start simply doing life together. Bills need to be paid. Work gets demanding. Appointments fill the calendar. Responsibilities pile up. And before you know it, most of your conversations are about what needs to be done next. Who is picking this up? What time do we need to leave? Did you pay that bill? What do we need from the store? Life becomes practical. And if we are not careful, the relationship can start to feel practi

There are some losses that change the way you see yourself forever. Pregnancy loss is one of them. For us, Ella was not simply a pregnancy. She was our first child—individually and together. She made me a mother for the first time. She made Bernard a father for the first time. And she made us parents together. Because she came into our lives later than either of us ever expected, she was not only our first child. She was also our last. That is a reality I still carry. When pe

One of the things we often struggle with after we’ve been hurt is figuring out what forgiveness is supposed to look like. We know God calls us to forgive. So we forgive—or at least we’re trying to. But then comes the harder question: Does forgiving someone mean I have to trust them again? I don’t believe it does. Forgiveness and trust are two different things. You can forgive someone… And still choose healthy boundaries. Forgiveness Doesn’t Erase What Happened Sometimes we mi

Have you ever looked at someone else’s life and wondered… “Why am I not there yet?” Maybe you watched a friend get the promotion you wanted. Someone else announced an engagement while you’re still praying for the right person. Another family seems to have everything together while yours feels like it’s barely holding on. Or perhaps you see someone else’s faith, success, or happiness and quietly wonder why your story looks so different. Comparison has a way of making us believ

There are seasons in life when the only thing we want to do is disappear for a while. Not because we don’t love the people around us. Not because we don’t appreciate their support. But because we’re exhausted. We’re overwhelmed. We’re trying to make sense of emotions we don’t even know how to put into words. If you’ve ever found yourself pulling away during a difficult season, you’re not alone. The truth is, sometimes we need quiet. Sometimes we need space to think, pray, cry

When Healing Feels Like Isolation There are seasons in life when the only thing we want to do is disappear for a while. Not because we don’t love the people around us. Not because we don’t appreciate their support. But because we’re exhausted. We’re overwhelmed. We’re trying to make sense of emotions we don’t even know how to put into words. If you’ve ever found yourself pulling away during a difficult season, you’re not alone. The truth is, sometimes we need quiet. Sometimes

There is something in all of us that longs for an ending. We want the conversation. The apology. The explanation. We want someone to tell us why things happened the way they did so we can finally make sense of our pain. We convince ourselves that if we could just have one more conversation… If they would just acknowledge what happened… If they would simply say, “I’m sorry…” Then maybe we could finally move on. But life doesn’t always give us that opportunity. Sometimes the pe

There are seasons in life when simply making it through the day feels like an accomplishment. If you’ve ever walked through grief, uncertainty, caregiving, loss, or overwhelming circumstances, you know what I mean. You do what needs to be done. You show up. You keep moving. You survive. But sometimes, while we’re focused on surviving, we stop paying attention to ourselves. That happened to me. For the past couple of weeks, my body had been trying to tell me something. There w

There are moments in life when we find ourselves longing for what used to be. The role we once held. The ministry we once served in. The career we once loved. The season that once gave our days purpose. Without realizing it, we begin measuring today against yesterday. We wonder if we’ve somehow lost our purpose because life doesn’t look the way it once did. But what if the problem isn’t that you’ve lost your purpose? What if God has simply given you a new assignment? One of t

There are seasons in life when faith doesn’t feel strong. It feels heavy. It feels uncertain. Sometimes, it can even feel like silence. I’ve learned that faith isn’t always standing on a mountaintop celebrating God’s blessings. Sometimes, faith is simply choosing to trust Him when you can’t understand what He’s is doing. I know what that kind of season feels like. I lost my mom. My husband nearly lost his life. Then we lost our daughter. Those were some of the darkest days of

There was a time when I never imagined writing would become such an important part of my life. The truth is, I didn’t start writing because I wanted to become an author. I started writing because I needed an outlet. The past five years have been an emotional roller coaster. Losing my mom. Watching Bernard fight for his life. Learning to live with a “new normal” I never asked for. There were seasons when I felt overwhelmed by grief, uncertainty, and questions I couldn’t answer

There are moments in life when one decision feels overwhelming. Not because it’s wrong. But because it requires us to leave behind everything that’s comfortable. After my mom passed away, my world changed almost overnight. Bernard and I were married just 46 days after her funeral, and four months later, we packed up our lives, left Pittsburgh, and moved to Georgia for a fresh start. Leaving wasn’t easy. We were leaving our family, our friends, and the place we had always call

There are some lessons in life we never expect to learn. For me, those lessons came through heartbreaking loss and unexpected uncertainty. When my mom passed away suddenly from COVID, I was reminded how quickly life can change. Then, not long after, my husband, Bernard, faced a life-threatening medical emergency. In both situations, my perspective shifted in ways I never could have imagined. I realized that when life is turned upside down, we don’t usually think about the thi

The Things No One Tells You About Encouraging Yourself Have you ever planned to share a message only to realize you needed to hear it yourself first? That happened to me recently. I had every intention of recording this message before work, but life got busy and I never had the chance. By the end of the day, after a long and exhausting day at work, I found myself sitting alone in my office needing encouragement. There wasn’t anyone there to remind me everything would be okay.

Comparison has become so common that we hardly notice when we’re doing it. We scroll through social media. We celebrate someone else’s promotion. We see vacation photos. We hear about an engagement. A new home. A growing business. A healed relationship. And before we realize what’s happening, we’re quietly measuring our lives against someone else’s. It happens so naturally that we often don’t stop to ask ourselves one simple question: What is comparison costing me? We’re Comp

One of the greatest struggles after loss is trying to get back to who we were before everything happened. We tell ourselves, “I just want things to be the way they used to be.” But sometimes… There isn’t a way back. Not because we’ve failed. But because we’ve been changed by what we’ve lived through. That realization can be painful. But it can also be freeing. Because the goal isn’t to become the person you used to be. The goal is to allow God to meet you where you are today.

Grief has no timeline. When most people hear the word grief, they immediately think about death. And while the loss of someone we love is certainly one of the deepest forms of grief, I’ve learned that grief is much bigger than that. Grief is what we experience anytime we lose something that mattered. We grieve the loss of people. We grieve the loss of dreams. We grieve the loss of our health. We grieve the loss of relationships. We grieve the loss of our independence. Sometim