I was praying out loud in my car, asking Jesus if it was ever going to be my turn, when a cop flashed his lights at me for speeding. He didn’t pull me over, just gave me a warning. And in that moment, the thought hit me: slow down. Not just on the road, but in life, in waiting, in trusting that God’s timing is still good.

I was born in 1994, which means I have already lived through more “end of the world” predictions than I can count. Y2K, Mayan calendars, blood moons, rapture charts, and dates circled on calendars that came and went like any other Tuesday.

Today, people are saying it again - “the rapture is happening.” My feed is full of videos, even OOTD-for-the-rapture posts. And here is what I have learned: fear freezes us, but faith frees us. Our hope has never been in knowing the hour. It has always been in knowing the One who holds time itself.

When things fell apart, I thought God was punishing me. But becoming a single mother has taught me something I never expected: God doesn’t remove to destroy, He removes to replace. And what He gives back is always better than what was lost.

Sometimes the hardest trials are not the loud ones everyone sees but the quiet ache of feeling left out. Watching others move into new seasons while your own life feels still can be its own kind of sorrow. Yet Jesus’ words remind me that I am not overlooked. “Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.” Even in the waiting, even in the hollow places, His victory covers me and His love holds me steady.

Sometimes it feels like everyone else has moved on to the next chapter while I am still trying to figure out where I belong. In those moments, I’ve discovered that what looks like being lost is often just Jesus drawing me closer. Being “behind” in the world is not the same as being forgotten by God.

The morning of my appointment, I whispered something to God I didn’t expect to hear: “I want more children.” Hours later, I received news that may change everything. What do we do when new desires meet closed doors? What do we do when our health, our identity, and our dreams collide? This is the hollow I’m sitting in - and the place where I’m learning that my worth is not in my womb, but in the God who calls me His.