His Strength, My Journey

Today, I'm writing from a place of weakness—literally and spiritually. My lungs are tight with chronic asthma, every breath a battle, and my body is drained. I’ve asked my little one’s father to take him for a few days so I can rest, but my heart aches with the emptiness. I miss him terribly. I walked two steps this morning and had to stop—I just couldn’t breathe. And in that moment, I cried out, “God, where are You?” I’ve prayed. I’ve fasted. I’ve laid my addictions and struggles at the feet of Jesus more times than I can count. I’ve heard stories of miraculous deliverance—how one moment someone was drowning in addiction and the next, they were free. No cravings, no withdrawals. Just gone. And I wonder, what about me? Am I doing something wrong? Is there something in my bloodline that’s blocking my breakthrough? Haven’t I asked, haven’t I begged? Doesn’t God say, “Ask and you shall receive?” Then why do I feel like all I’m receiving is silence? My home is in disarray, my body is s...

As we enter this sacred season, my heart is overflowing with gratitude and awe. We are walking into the time where our Lord was crucified—where He bore the weight of the world, our sins, our shame—and yet, He rose again in victory. What a powerful truth. What an unthinkable sacrifice. What a Savior! Last night, while I was cooking supper, I found myself singing praises—just worship pouring out while stirring pots and flipping pans. Today, with a speaker in hand, I walked through the classrooms at our school, letting worship fill the halls. The children began to dance, to laugh, to sing. My heart could hardly contain the joy. Isn’t God so wonderful? Even my own little ones—my precious three-year-old with his arms stretched wide, and my baby girl, lifting her tiny hands to heaven—worshiping like they know exactly who the songs are for. And I believe they do. That’s the Spirit of God. That’s the presence of Jesus in our home, in our hearts. I’m overwhelmed with thankfulness fo...

There was a time in my life when I didn’t know what love was. I knew abandonment. I knew rejection. I knew deep pain. But love? That was something I longed for but had never truly seen. As a little girl, my mother chose a lifestyle that didn’t include her children. While other kids came home to warm meals and bedtime hugs, I was left to wrestle with silence and loneliness. Schoolwork became my escape. It was the only thing that made me feel normal in a world that felt anything but. Eventually, we were sent to live with my father, and for a moment, I thought things would get better. But he didn’t want me either. His wife resented my presence, and the environment became deeply unsafe and damaging. It was a dark and traumatic season that still echoes in places of my heart. The pain in that home eventually led to us being placed in children’s homes, where I felt more like a case number than a child. I grew up with a gaping hole in my heart, and I did everything I could to fill it. I chased...

If you had told me a year ago that I’d feel this close to Jesus, I might have smiled politely and nodded, but deep down, I wouldn’t have believed you. My life as a business owner and mother is often loud, messy, and chaotic—but something holy has been happening in the middle of it all. God is changing me. Not just in small ways either—He’s doing a deep work, reshaping my heart from the inside out. And I want to encourage every baby Christian reading this: He can and will do the same for you. The Word Is Alive Hebrews 4:12 says, “For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword…” That’s exactly what I’ve been experiencing. The more I read His Word, the more I feel it cutting through the layers of old habits and attitudes—especially impatience and anger. I used to shout often. It felt like the only way to be heard or to get things done. But now? I find that I don’t enjoy raising my voice anymore. It actually grieves me when I do. And that grief—it’s no...

Last night, I praised God for a long time—longer than usual. I found myself lingering in His presence, yearning to draw closer, to surrender more, to trust more. I am beginning to realize that only through God will my life change. My circumstances, my struggles, my fears—none of these can be fixed by my own strength. Yet, even with this knowledge, I battle against the thoughts that flood my mind. I stress over outstanding fees, over parents who don’t seem to care, over the endless cycle of financial strain. And even though I tell myself that my hope is in Him, I still find my mind running in circles, asking, What plan can I make? How can I fix this? How can I get more money? Over and over, I remind myself—I can't fix it. Only God can. But why is it so hard to have complete faith and trust? Does God understand the relentless thoughts racing through my mind? The doubts that creep in no matter how many times I rebuke them? The battle of silencing the worries, only for them to resurf...