Untitled

I’ve whispered that phrase more times than I can count, usually late at night, with the house quiet and my thoughts loud.Am I ready for what’s next? For that doctor’s appointment? For this season of singleness, or parenting, or caregiving? For forgiveness I don’t feel strong enough to give?Maybe you’re asking it too.The Honest Truth About My “Readiness”If “ready” means having it all together – no…

I’ve spent enough time in the field to know that fire is never the end of the story.Recently, I stood in an area that had been scorched. The ground was blackened. The air still carried that faint burnt smell. And everything looked finished. Dead. Empty. Like nothing good could ever come from it again.But if you’ve worked in conservation long enough, you know better.Because after the fire comes…

It just hit me differently this morning. I was sitting with my coffee, probably scrolling through things I didn’t need to see, when my mind just… stopped. It landed on a thought so big I had to put my phone down.We talk about Jesus coming to earth, and we usually start in the stable. We picture the manger, the animals, the quiet night. But that’s not the beginning. Not really.Before the cold…

I have a confession to make: I am a terrible main character.For years, I’ve been approaching life like it’s a game I’m destined to lose. I’d wake up every morning, select my character, “Me”, and try to grind my way to victory. I’d load up on armor made of good intentions, equip weapons of willpower, and tell myself, “Okay, this time I’m ready. This time I’ll beat this level.”But I never did.The…

There’s a particular kind of tired that doesn’t come from physical labor. It’s the exhaustion of not knowing. Of standing at a crossroads where the signposts are blurred, the map is outdated, and the path ahead seems to vanish into a thick, gray fog. Maybe you’re there now. Maybe the diagnosis is uncertain. Maybe the career path has crumbled. Maybe a relationship hangs in the balance, or the…

It’s that time again. The turn of the calendar, the blank page, the whisper of “new year, new me.” I’ve made those lists. I’ve clenched my jaw and vowed that this year, I’ll finally become the stronger, more successful, more disciplined, more “together” version of myself. And, if you’re like me, by mid-January, that determination can feel as flat as last year’s ambitions.But this morning, in the…

It’s sitting on the table next to me as I write this. A beautiful book, with a worn leather cover and gilt-edged pages. And if I’m honest, for the past week, it’s mostly been a decoration. I’ve carried it in my bag, a quiet, weighty presence, but have been too busy, too distracted, too tired to open it. This morning, a thought arrested me, gentle but firm: How precious this is. And how…

Of all the stories in the Gospels, the one about the woman who touched the edge of His garment always finds me. Maybe it is because I have felt so much like her. Pushed aside by the crowd, weary from a long struggle, and feeling utterly unseen. For twelve years, she suffered. Twelve years of doctors and treatments that only left her worse. Twelve years of being labeled unclean, untouchable,…

I cannot trust my emotions. If I’m honest, that’s a difficult sentence to write. My feelings are so immediate, so loud, and so convincing. When anxiety wraps its cold hands around my heart, it feels like the truest reality. In moments of deep sadness, it seems as if the sun will never shine again. And when fleeting happiness arrives, I’m tempted to believe I’ve finally built a life that can…

used to think the life of faith was a series of separate seasons. There were times for building—for focused, peaceful work on the dreams God had placed in my heart. And then there were times for fightingfor battening down the hatches and weathering a storm of opposition, doubt, or crisis.I was wrong.It was the ancient, dust-covered story of Nehemiah that shattered my neat and tidy categories. In…

I have a confession. There are days when the truth that “Jesus is enough” feels more like a statement I believe in my head than a reality I feel in my bones. I can make the wise choice, speak the kind word, and check everything off the list. But inside, a quiet hum of anxiety remains. A storm of “what ifs” and “not enoughs” can still swirl, even after I’ve prayed. If you’ve ever felt that way,…

Of all the books in the Bible, Lamentations feels the most like a secret, tear-stained diary. It’s not a book you casually flip to for a quick dose of inspiration. It’s heavy. It’s raw. It’s the sound of a whole world coming undone. For years, I skirted around it. I preferred the promises of Isaiah or the worship of the Psalms. But then life, as it does, handed me seasons of loss that felt like…

I have to be honest. For a long time, I skimmed past the Book of Joel. It felt like an ancient, distant alarm bell. Locusts, darkness, and the great and dreadful “Day of the Lord.” It was easy to file it away as a prophecy for another time, for another people. But then I lived a little more. I experienced seasons that felt like a spiritual famine. I’ve walked through moments where my own poor…

I’ll be honest. There are moments, usually in the quiet of the morning, Bible open on my lap, when the truth that “Jesus is enough” feels absolutely unshakable. It’s my anchor, my peace. I close my journal feeling like I can take on the world. Then, the world actually arrives. The dog is barking, an email pings with a “URGENT” subject line, and I realize I’m out of coffee creamer. Suddenly,…

There are times when faith feels less like a fortress and more like a flicker. When the world becomes heavy, and the cheerful, “Just pray about it!” advice feels like it’s meant for someone else, in some other life. I’ve been there, staring into the silence, feeling that my prayers were hitting the ceiling and shattering. It was in one of these seasons that a wise friend told me, “Go to the…

I have a confession. For years, I thought a strong faith was a steady, unwavering feeling. A constant, warm light inside. But my faith… well, it often feels more like a flickering candle in the wind. It sputters when life gets chaotic. It nearly goes out when I’m tired, or hurt, or just plain disappointed. I knew the right answers. I could tell you that Jesus was the answer to life’s meaning,…