There was a time when I couldn’t tell the difference between my own thoughts and the lies of the enemy. Every voice sounded the same, and all of them told me I was failing. But lately, I’ve been learning that the voice of God doesn’t sound like pressure or shame. It sounds like peace. It sounds like stillness. It sounds like love that waits for me to look up and say, “I’m listening.”

Lately I’ve realized that when the enemy can’t reach where you are, he reaches for who you were. He pulls out old memories like they still hold power, when really they’re just proof of what God has already redeemed. Those moments don’t define us anymore, they remind us that grace did what guilt never could.

There was a time when I lived off of attention, mistaking it for love.
I wanted to be chosen so badly that I forgot I already was. Motherhood changed that.
The quiet moments after my son falls asleep taught me that love doesn’t need noise to be real. I still pray for my soulmate, but the ache feels softer now. I’m not chasing, I’m trusting. Maybe peace isn’t about getting everything you want.
Maybe it’s learning that even here, in the waiting, you already have everything you need.

I heard Flowers by Samantha Ebert on a quiet afternoon, and one line stopped me in my tracks - “trust that God’s holding a watering can.”

It made me think about all the seasons that feel like drought, when prayers echo back and nothing seems to grow. Faith isn’t always proven in the bloom. Sometimes it’s proven in the waiting, in the valley, in the moments when we can’t see what God is doing beneath the surface.

Even when nothing is blooming, faith still plants seeds.

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.