redemption
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You don’t have to prove your worth. The Creator knit you together in the womb and delighted in your goodness. You are fearfully and wonderfully made. Most of us hear that and nod politely, then go right back to living like it’s on us to earn our spot on the planet. Childhood trauma has a…
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It’s the harmony between a Father and His child. It’s not earned, it’s given. It’s not managed, it’s received. Jesus didn’t die to make you better at behaving. He died to bring you back…to tear down the wall that sin built between heaven and home. You can live spotless on the outside and still be…
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For so long, my very own body felt like a ruined place. Desecrated. Not a temple but a tomb. I lived inside skin that felt haunted — a house where sickness pooled in the corners, where blackness spread across every wall. I did not trust it, did not belong to it, did not believe it…
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Deception is the oldest story in the book. It begins in a garden with a lie, and for many of us, it begins in childhood. That precious window of innocence—where we were meant to feel safe, cherished, and unshakably loved—is often where evil strikes first. The enemy is subtle. He slithers in with confusion, betrayal,…
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There’s a lot of talk about forgiveness, and while I believe wholeheartedly in forgiveness, I’m hard-pressed to understand the ability to reconnect to the people that violated my innocence, my trust, and gave me no protection. The way I see it is that to extend my hand to my mother, my father, my brother, or…
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Conviction whispers like a still, small voice—a gentle nudge in the quiet of dawn, calling us closer to the heart of God. It is the voice that says, “My child, come home. You have wandered, but I am here. Let Me restore you.” It does not batter us down, nor chain us to guilt, but…
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When people betray you—when those you trusted wound you deeper than you thought possible—the temptation is to lock your heart away, to vow never to be hurt again. I understand that desire to build walls and bury your heart where no one can touch it. But that is not the life God intended for you.…
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What are you carrying in your hands today? Is it strife, injustice — unworthiness? It’s an interesting question. What we carry in our hands may be a direct result of what is happening in our hearts. If our hearts are confused and full of chaos, I suppose our life will show the fruits of that.…
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Let me tell you something about stories—they are the bones we bury, the ones we dig up, hoping the earth hasn’t gnawed them clean. When you come from a childhood where the wolves wore human faces, it is tempting to keep silent, to let the past rot beneath your skin. But silence is a cruel…
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Prejudice exists. I’m often judged and categorized for discussing my upbringing. It gets old. I’d be much more acceptable to them if I didn’t stand by my right to speak. Uncomfortable and unending, the opinions around me fly. Why don’t they be quiet? I didn’t ask them, did I? Unfortunately, this judgment and my shame…