Sometimes I think about sitting across from the older version of me. The healed me. The wiser me. The me who survived what I thought would break me. I wonder what she would say. Would she smile softly and tell me to stop carrying things that were never mine to hold. Would she remind me that not every thought deserved agreement? Not every feeling deserved authority. Not every wound deserved a permanent home. I think she would tell me that healing was slower than I wanted,

Today the Spirit of Truth showed me something so simple, yet so profound. I’ve read Isaiah 61 many times. I’ve prayed it. I’ve quoted it. I’ve tried to put on the garment of praise. Yet there were seasons when joy seemed just out of reach. Today, the Holy Spirit put one word on it. Mourning. Jesus said the Spirit of Truth would guide us into all truth. Today, He did exactly that. In my season of heaviness, I wasn’t lacking praise. I was carrying mourning. Isaiah 61 suddenly c

I was writing a birthday message to my daughter when I typed these words: “The place you hold in my heart is unmatched.” Then I laughed. Not because it wasn’t true. Because it is. But it also made me realize something. When someone holds that much of your heart, they also have the ability to break it. That’s the risk of loving deeply. As parents, we know that feeling. Our children can bring us our greatest joy and our deepest sorrow. A phone call can make us celebrate, or it