THE BLOG

Have you ever seen a name on your phone and dropped everything to answer? Some voices just matter more than others. The same is true spiritually. Beneath our striving, scrolling, and endless distractions, there is a deeper longing, a desire not just to know about God, but to truly know Him. This post explores the sacred restlessness many of us carry and what Psalm 42:7 might be inviting us to discover. If your soul has been craving something deeper lately, this one is for y

The husband who forgot your anniversary. The friend who left you out. The parent who criticized your decision. Every meaningful relationship will eventually require forgiveness. Read on for a simple but profound perspective that may change how you view the people you love most.

Many Christian women aren't struggling because we refuse to forgive. We're struggling because we've unknowingly believed myths about what forgiveness actually is. These misconceptions often leave us feeling confused, discouraged, or even guilty when healing doesn't happen as quickly as we expected. Let's explore six of the most common myths, along with a small step we can take toward greater freedom.

Some stories feel polished and easy to share. Others still feel tender, even years later. This blog post reflects on one of those stories and invites you into a conversation about healing, forgiveness, and the grace of God that meets us in the places we'd rather keep hidden.

Pain has a way of becoming a narrator. When life falls apart, suffering doesn't just hurt—it starts talking. And if we're not careful, we'll begin to believe everything it says. It has a sneaky way of distorting our view and assumptions about God. Which is exactly why scripture encourages us to fix our eyes on Jesus.

My husband has a small hydroponic garden setup inside our home where he carefully tends tiny seedlings under controlled conditions. The lighting, temperature, water and nutrients are measured with precision. He is able to set his seeds up for success in an environment that is safe, predictable, and protected. Eventually, there comes a day when the seedlings can no longer stay there. As I’ve watched my farmer in process, I’m reminded of my current season of motherhood.

There’s an old phrase we use when we’re bracing for something bad to happen: waiting for the other shoe to drop. I think this describes the emotional state for many of us. We are quietly waiting for the next thing to go wrong. Friend, living in a constant state of anticipatory grief is costing you more than you think. But, there’s hope.

In graphic design, there’s a concept called whitespace. It’s the intentional space between elements—between letters, lines, and images—that allows a design to breathe. Without it, everything competes and the core message gets lost. The eye doesn’t know where to land. When there isn’t enough whitespace, the most important elements don’t stand out. They get drowned out. The same is true in our lives. Check out this post for 6 practical steps you can take today to create more

I have a vague memory from when I was around five years old and had decided to run away from home. I don’t recall the reason, but no doubt it was due to an egregious offense by someone within the household…such as telling me to clean my room or eat my vegetables. 😉 I remember packing a small bag with life-saving essentials: stuffed animals and oatmeal cream pies. Then I began marching up the street in righteous indignation, destination unknown. What sticks out most... my d

In our progress-focused culture, it’s easy to breeze past the milestones. We tend to fix our eyes on what’s next. The next step. The next goal. The next hill to climb. We measure progress by what’s ahead, rarely pausing long enough to acknowledge how far we’ve already come. But in doing so, are we missing something significant God wants to reveal to us?

How often are you tangled up in “nots”? You know the ones. The quiet, persistent thoughts that slip in without invitation and stay longer than they should. I’m not a good enough mom. I’m not a strong leader. I’m not capable of handling this. I’m not likable. I’m not…enough. They don’t usually arrive loudly. They whisper and subtly dig roots until they’re powerful enough to shape the way we show up. And before long, we’re tangled.

What are you clinging to? Earthly comfort can quiet the ache for a moment... until it doesn’t. Many of us are holding onto things that were never meant to satisfy us—they were only meant to remind us where to turn. Are you settling for a substitute? Reflect on why your deepest longings are actually pointing you toward something much greater.