PatiencePassions

  Standing before this blank page, I come to You, Lord, with open hands. Forward I go. Not looking back to carry what has already fallen from me. Not reaching behind to gather what You have already taken away. Forward is my answer. Forward is my obedience. Forward is my becoming. It has been what it has been. The hurt had its season. The pain spoke its lessons. Even the shadows that drained me revealed what I must never hold again. Today, I release it all. Every weight that was not mine to carry, I lay it down. Every word that tried to break me, I return to silence. Every intention sent to harm me, I release back into Your justice. Cleanse me, Lord. Let no bitterness take root in me. Let no anger make a home in my spirit. Burn away all that does not belong to the truth of who I am in You. I choose myself. I choose the life You are calling me into. I choose peace over chaos, wholeness over wounds, light over everything that tried to dim me. I will not shrink to survive anymore. I wi...

  It’s painful. I know. There is a kind of exhaustion that comes from being targeted in quiet, daily ways. The kind that is not loud enough for everyone to notice, but sharp enough to leave marks. Being excluded on purpose. Being spoken about instead of spoken to. Being made to feel small for choosing distance, for choosing peace, for choosing yourself. And somehow, every time, you end up being the villain. I will gladly correct myself if I am wrong. But point that finger back at yourself too. Because this has been going on for a long time. The pattern is not new. The roles are not new. You are cast as the problem by people who can easily point out what is wrong in others, yet struggle to sit with what is wrong within themselves. When they do wrong, it becomes a joke. A performance. Something to laugh about. Something to bond over. And if you stop participating, if you stop tolerating it, suddenly you are the one who is difficult. The one who has changed. The one who thinks they ar...

  There is a specific kind of silence that follows when your world shifts without warning. It is not loud or dramatic. It does not announce itself. It simply arrives and settles in your chest, heavy and undeniable. One moment you feel certain, grounded in what you believe is unfolding, convinced you understand the direction of your life. And then, without permission, everything changes. February has felt like that for me. Not loud, not chaotic on the surface, but deeply unsettling underneath. I have been moving through days that feel like waves, some gentle, others strong enough to knock the breath out of me. I am learning, slowly, what it means to stay afloat even when I am not sure where the shore is. Recently, I received news about someone I had placed so much hope in. Not just ordinary hope, but the kind that convinces you the story has already been written. I believed I knew how things would unfold. I trusted that feeling so deeply that I did not question it. Looking back, I c...

  Heavenly Father my heart is tired and I am standing in rooms I never asked to enter spaces that scrape against my spirit until even breathing feels like resistance Yet somehow even here You whisper you are not misplaced You were sent Your existence is not an accident someone survives because you exist someone’s life is lighter because your breath shares the air with theirs even if you were trained to believe you were too much or not enough or the problem They told you your presence meant nothing that everything you touched would fail they dressed you in guilt and called it truth But I know what You planted I know what lives inside you You love with a depth most people are afraid to look at a tenderness that reaches cores others never dare to touch and still you remain open That alone makes you powerful So hear this do not let bitter eyes rewrite your story do not let twisted tongues decide your worth what they throw at you is only what they are running from Their fear is loud but...

  If this is the full moon’s doing, then it’s working overtime. It feels like being inside a pressure cooker, where everything you’ve avoided, softened, or swallowed politely is suddenly demanding air. Lately the same lesson keeps circling back, people pleasing. The old habit of shrinking, explaining, accommodating. And honestly, the energy right now wants none of that. It wants to enter its villain era without apology. I’ve felt tested these past few days, like life is poking me and asking, so who are you really when the masks come off. My emotions have been muted, but my anger has been loud. It started on Sunday. I went to church even though I didn’t want to. Not because I don’t believe, but because I didn’t feel like performing devotion for an audience. Still, I went. The first compromise of the day. The familiar urge to avoid judgment, to keep the peace, to be palatable. After church, I spent time with a male friend. We talked, we laughed, we existed. Nothing dramatic, nothing ...