Come to me all you who are weary

We all have parts of ourselves, our stories, and our current seasons of life that feel unforgivable. We read in the word that Jesus forgives us, but can’t seem to receive it, we read about Gods unfailing love but can’t seem to embrace it. For years I found myself in the hamster wheel of working for Gods love and forgiveness. Even after coming to Christ, thinking that if I preach the gospel here, if I pray with this person, that will be enough for God. That will be enough for Him to look at me with delight and not disgust. It will be enough for Him to maybe let me into His presence. My own experiences taught me you must earn love, you need to work to be seen, you have to shout to be heard. 

So I worked. I wrote the book, I preached the gospel, I prayed for the stranger, I served, I shared my story before I was ready, because I thought. “This is what God wants.” He wants my works, He wants my good behavior. It was not until I entered into a deeper realm of healing and grief, that I discovered the only thing He wanted was my heart. For me to come as I am which most days was broken, fed up, weary, and disappointed. He loved it, He held every moment close to Him and slowly but surely He began to restore my joy, my hope, and from that overflow I went out. I shared my story with freedom in my eyes and lightness in my step. I preached to those who needed to hear about the love of Jesus, not the ones I assumed did. I poured out from an overflow, that first came from Him. 

There are many stories in the Bible that talk about a process, sitting at Jesus’s feet, drinking from His well of life, and that is what I’ve had to do, and am still learning how to do because, My life is not defined by what I do for someone or what I do for God, and neither is yours. The story of Mary and Martha resonated deeply with me, Martha was preparing for Jesus, running around making sure everything was in order, while Mary sat at Jesus’s feet. In awe and wonder of Him, and from that place Jesus began to teach her. Teach her how to love, teach her how to care, and teach her how to walk in the God given calling He destined her with. This took and will take time. There may be moments in your journey or process when God does ask you to do something, listen to that. Boldly go, but then there are other times when He will say “My child, come close for I have much to share with you, much to tell you, and I want to show you how much I love you.” Listen to that too, both are important, both are valuable to our King, both mean the world to Him. So whether you are in a season of sitting or going, remember that first you’re made for Him, and you’re made for His love. 

Matthew 11:28-30 NLT

28 Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”

Photo taken in Chicago, IL 2020

The quest for Love

The quest for Love. 

At 21 years old I walked into the adult entertainment industry searching for love, safety, and provision. I was fresh out of basic training and had just gotten into my fourth car accident. At the time I was working two jobs, and living in Ohio. This accident felt like the last straw. I was no longer able to get to work, and could not get help elsewhere. I felt myself giving up in a way I hadn’t before, but I was still hopeful. The evil of this world has a way of whispering to you when you’re at your lowest. It has a way of inviting you into something that will provide a temporary fix. At the moment that fix will solve your problem, you’ll find the man, you’ll make the money, and you’ll gain the status. But at the end of it all is emptiness, a broken heart, and an unfulfilled cry for more. 

People walk into different things for different reasons. My reasoning for walking into a strip club was the quest for love. Growing up I was never the one guys called attractive or sought after. I was also adopted and experienced the loss of my birth parents. I was hungry for love, and attention, and to be chosen. Growing up, relations at home were hard, my parents did their best with what they had. A broken home is a broken home, and sometimes it’s no one’s fault. 

As I’ve processed my childhood and walked through the forgiveness of family members and myself, I have come to see the deep need that we all had for Jesus. Throughout high school and well into my adult years, I was used to abusive men. I had experienced emotional abuse, and sexual abuse, and accepted it as normal. But I remember the pit in my stomach that I felt when I walked into my first strip club at the age of 21. I felt like something was beginning to die. I ignored the feeling and pressed on. I was promised things. I was told I’d be appreciated for my exotic appearance, men would pay big money to see a girl like me dance for them. The innocence of my twenties was stolen from me by a choice I made when I was in deep pain. 

Soon strip clubs turned into parlors, parlors turned into hotel rooms and I felt like I had reached a point of no return. Even though I was in the depths of a version of hell. I was still being called out to. I was being pursued, I was being chased after, because I was loved. 

I didn’t know it at the time but I was deeply and profoundly loved by Jesus. His heart was breaking for me. His arms were longing for mine. He would reach for my heart while others attempted to rip it apart. He sought after me when I cried myself to sleep, asking if He even existed, and He was with me when I walked into places I never should have been. I just didn’t know it.

There is a place in our hearts that Jesus desires to rest and work in. It’s not just in the search for validation, love, or even to be known. But to be fully healed. To be seen as whole, complete, lacking nothing, to regain beauty in your own eyes through His grace. There is a desire of His heart for yours. This part of my story is one I am still working through. The redemption in my life is evident and the story He is writing is not finished. I am not broken. In Christ, I am whole, pure, blameless, and chosen. My story is not my identity, but it is part of me. It is the truth of what Christ saved me from, and the invitation to see His glory. My life now is not defined by my past, but rather by His unrelenting grace, pursuit, and call. It is shaped by the depth of His love and the identity that I have in Him. 

You are not exempt from redemption. You are not too far from The Father's love, you are not forgotten, and He has good plans for you. My God promises to redeem all things, some we will see here, and some we will see in this next life of glory. But regardless He promises that all things will be made new. 

He calls to you. Not to condemn you, but to love you and restore you. 

Romans 8:28 NIV

28 “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who[a] have been calledaccording to his purpose.”

Pslam 107: 1-3 NIV

“Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
    his love endures forever.

2 Let the redeemed of the Lord tell their story—
    those he redeemed from the hand of the foe,
3 those he gathered from the lands,
    from east and west, from north and south.”

A moment from my thirtieth birthday, nine years later.

To the one who lost their sense of identity.

Many parts of my journey are still tender.
In America alone 1 out of 6 women are sexually abused or assaulted.

I have had days where I’ve cursed the ground till the sun came up. I’ve spent days asking God how He could leave me like that. I’ve asked Him where He was when their hands surrendered me to a side of myself I did not know existed. I’ve told Him in different ways I hate Him, as I rush back into His healing hand.  I’ve asked Him why, as He sat by my side. I buried my face in the ground to find myself met with a new hope that I thought couldn’t be found. I tried to move cities and change my name, I wanted to disappear while His voice continued to call out, “I see you, Dear.” Come near. 

I am no stranger to abuse and it took me years to begin to reconcile the truth of certain stories. I was always known as the one who sought out hope. But there came a time when my hope ran out. I couldn’t see the light, and I didn’t want to embrace another day. I wanted to become unknown and vanish as if I never existed. I found myself wrestling with the idea of this life, and if I was meant for it. I was left in the ruins of someone else’s decision that I did not choose but remembered in a way that would haunt me for months.

I was used to this, so when it happened at the hands of someone I thought loved me, I denied it. I dug deep and fought to hide the truth. I ignored the signs that were screaming at me. I started to die in a way I hadn’t before. It was a feeling that I couldn’t name but knew. I was familiar with this type of grief, but this time I couldn’t run from it. This time was different, this time it hurt more, and it felt more real. I had grown to love this person, I held their hand, I walked beside them, I kissed their forehead, I spent lazy afternoons in bed with them, I knew them and they knew me. 

I have taken my time to unpack my story, I have sat with the truth of my side and their side, I have screamed at myself for not getting off the train, I have said to myself, “Maybe if I didn’t drink, maybe if I didn’t go.” Then this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe if “I.” The echo of my self-blame called to me in the walls of my empty apartment night after night, until I finally collapsed. I stopped hiding and revealed myself to the light. The stories that had been suppressed for years began to float to the surface. The gazes of strangers, unwanted hands, and the silence I was forced into came rushing back. Opening that door was the release of a floodgate. It was the choice to dig up everything hidden and unearth what I had spent years burying. I remember the day I realized the truth something broke. The chain of my pride, the pride that I didn’t need God, the idea that I was okay. I remember the rage I felt, I wanted to kill them, I wanted to get revenge, I wanted to hurt them the way they hurt me. I tried to fight, but instead, I fell to my knees, I lifted my hands and said “God, help me.” 

At that moment, something was lifted. I felt His hands pick my head up off the floor. I felt the light begin to seep into my wounds. Every time I ran God was waiting, waiting to catch me when I fell. He listened to me as I cursed His name and theirs as well. Letting me know I was held when no one else could. For months I held onto the idea, that it would get better. At first, it wasn’t easy, I would spend days in bed. I couldn’t turn to anyone else, but in those moments alone with God, I started to see the power of His truth. Even though it hurt it had set me free. I remember the days I sat with my Bible in my lap. I listened to the same worship song as my tears fell like rain from a storm that never seemed to end. I remember reading the book of Isaiah and learning about how much God loved the people of Israel and wanted to restore all that had been stolen from them. I remember reading the Psalms, learning about King David and the battles He faced, and reading about how Job lost everything. God showed up for every single one of them. 

He never did the same thing, it was always different. It was always a new thing. The Lord says “Behold, I am doing a new thing, do you not see it as it springs forth?” Isaiah 43:19. I didn’t understand that for a long time, but when I finally started to my whole world changed. I began to believe in the promise of restoration that He gave others, and I started to trust that it could be for me too. I began to seek and return to the words of hope written before me. I began to trust God, I started to forgive them, I started to ask God to heal them, I started praying, I started asking for help every single day to get up, to get out of bed. I kept asking, I kept praying, and I kept trusting. I started to learn that I will never be defined by the hands of another person or the choices of harm made by someone else. I started to believe in myself again, I went outside, I began to write, I chose to create again, and I finally started to believe in God and trust that He is who He says He is. I found my healing in the nights when no one heard me because I knew God did. In letting go I have found peace, I found the strength to forgive myself. I found the reason to keep going.

There are moments when I find my feet sinking into the floor when the day, the thought, or the memory returns. There are moments when I find myself back on my knees begging for mercy, and in those God meets me. He carries me through, He reminds me of His promises. He sits with me while I weep, and comforts me. I discovered that He’s there. In every moment He’s there, and He was there. 

SA is the assault of the Imago Dei. It is not just a body. It is not just one night. It is not nothing.

The brokenness of this sin against another human is not lost in defeat. Rather we can gain victory and heal with Christ Jesus. I am not sharing my story to perscribe a one size fits all solution. I’m sharing because I want to offer hope. I’ve walked through this valley, I have wept, I have pleaded and I have gotten really angry. All to be met with the freedom that comes with surrendering this pain.

The effects of sexual assault and abuse can be healed through Jesus. My experiences deeply fractured my sense of self, identity, and femininity for years, but over the past few years, I have gradually learned to trust again, recognize my worth in Christ, see my beauty, and love myself. To anyone who has endured this, remember: it was never your fault, and it never will be. It does not matter what you wore, what choice you made prior to the incident. It was never your fault, and there is a father in Heaven who grieves with you and for you.

Psalm 129: 1-4

“They have greatly oppressed me from my youth,”
    let Israel say;
2 “they have greatly oppressed me from my youth,
    but they have not gained the victory over me.
3 Plowmen have plowed my back
    and made their furrows long.
4 But the Lord is righteous;
    He has cut me free from the cords of the wicked.”

NIV

My Testimony

There is a lot I could say, but no amount of what God has done in my life has enough words. Today, I want to speak to the woman searching for her identity, searching for belonging, searching for love. That was my story, every decision I made, and my view of the world. 

I was adopted from China at six months old by two loving parents who had their struggles and hardships before I got there. I was very sick, and I almost died. Growing up I struggled with speech development, social cues, and awareness. This caused problems for me in school. This also was the beginning of the lie “You are not enough”. I struggled in school, I wasn’t able to pay attention for long periods, I often rebelled against my teachers and found myself fighting to fit in everywhere, doing whatever I had to “to belong.” At 18 years old my parents told me I want you to enlist in the military if you want to go to college. At the time, everyone else around me was going to college, had been accepted to one, or had a different plan for their life. 

Then there was me, desperate for escape from my home life and feeling pulled to make a decision I chose to enlist. I was enlisted for four years, went through training, and graduated but I still felt unfulfilled, confused, and lost. 

At this point, I was in my early twenties and I had more decision-making power. I was free from my parents and I was becoming less influenced by those around me. I was also in a lot of pain. I had never dealt with the rejection, abuse, or abandonment that I dealt with growing up from others. Instead of addressing the pain, I ran. I ran into the arms of the world. I allowed myself to lose every piece of myself to sex, drugs, different industries, and people. I lost every piece of my God-given identity and began to take on the name of others, of my pain, my abuse, my anger, my rejection, and my longing for love. I allowed myself to fall deep into the arms of men who didn’t love me, people, and things who didn’t care for me, and I allowed all of that to become my God. For seven years this went on. I went from man to man, house to house, industry to industry, city to city, always searching. Searching for that one thing. “Who am I?” Can someone tell me who I am and what I was made for?” This was a question that drove every choice I made. 

At 25 years old my life began to fall apart around me. My mental health was the worst it had ever been. I was on the road, living with strangers, and high almost every day on pills. I was lost. I was broken and I knew I needed to change. But I wasn’t ready yet. In 2020 when the pandemic hit I lost all my touring gigs in the music industry and I was forced to sit with my pain. I didn’t want to, it was too much, so I ran into another relationship. But this time it was with a woman. I had been assaulted, abused, and left by men, I thought to myself “She will love me, she will get it” At this time I had started to read the Bible and return to the scriptures I grew up with. That soon fell away when I decided to enter into this relationship. For six months we dated, and I remember losing more and more of myself, asking myself, is this right? Am I making the right choice here? I knew deep down I wasn’t. Every Sunday even laying in their bed I would read the Bible app, I would study scripture, I would watch pastors on YouTube, and I would pray. Eventually, the church opened up and I started to go. I remember how uncomfortable I felt, God was pulling me to himself. He was calling me out and calling me in. I couldn’t resist it anymore, and so I chose to start walking towards him. 

It didn’t happen immediately, I was still involved with that relationship for some time, but finally on October 11th 2020, I woke up with a burning in my heart that I needed to make a choice. So I did, I walked alone to my church at the time to get baptized. I remember stepping into the water and rather than rejoicing, grieving. A deep grief fell over me and I can now say. It was the Holy Spirit. Weeping for me, weeping for my pain, weeping for my soul, and it overcame me. Even after that I returned to that relationship because I was used to toxicity. I was used to cycles and it was not until October 31st, 2020 that I reached the end of myself. 

That night I went to their house. I remember feeling like I shouldn’t go, but I chose to anyway. That night something horrific took place for me and I was broken. I remember wanting to die, no longer wanting to live, and desperately saying to God, I cannot do this anymore. I cannot live like this, please kill me. I remember Him kneeling to meet me on the floor where I was, a shell of myself, a broken woman, and a needy woman desperate for the hem of her God's robe. I called out in faith that day. I said, “God I heard you can heal people, will you heal me?” 

He heard me. At that moment my journey to wholeness, healing, and new identity began. It was not easy. For four years I wrestled before the Lord, I brought him everything. I was angry. I was angry at God for my upbringing. I was angry at Him for what I believed and thought was Him. He never pushed me away, no matter how often I ran, left, or fought. He held on. He held on as I cried into his arms, he held on as I walked through painful forgiveness prayers, he held my hand as I walked to who I truly was and left behind everything I wasn’t. He held on, and to this day He still is. If I were to wait until my idea of restoration was complete I would be keeping the light from others who need to know my God is a healer, a lover of my soul, a friend, a Father, and a redeemer. Today, God is in the business of restoration. I have a loving church family, a wonderful community of people, and even redemption with my parents. I have what I need, and I’m still growing, I’m still changing, and I’m still learning how to do this whole thing with Jesus. 

I have shied away from sharing my story because of fear. If I had it my way I would keep all of this to myself, hiding the reality of what my life was to protect my image, preserve my name. But God. Jesus is worthy of the telling of my story. He is worth the sharing of His story in my life. 

He doesn’t need much from you, He just needs one simple prayer, and He will do the rest. He loves you, He longs for you, and He is waiting for you. 

Romans 10:13 

“Everyone who calls on the name of The Lord will be saved.”

Mark 5: 28

“If I can just touch His robe, I will be healed. Immediately the bleeding stopped, and she could feel in her body that she had been healed of her terrible condition.”

God With Us

I have spent time blaming God for suffering. I have thrown fists, curse words, and even threatened to walk away, all while still saying “God help me.” 

In the last four years of my walk with Jesus, I have come to understand His deep love for the one who suffers. His comfort, His hand, and His provision. God does not delight in our suffering, but He does not always take it away. I remember when I came to Jesus I had asked Him to heal me. At the time I thought that healing would be smooth, easy, and in my timing. Four years later I can say, that’s not the case because the way God heals is better than what I have in mind. 

God cares about the wholeness of our hearts, minds, and the restoration of identity. He cares about the words that have been spoken over you, He cares about the ways others have hurt you, but He also cares about what you’ve done to others, what you’ve said to others, and He wants to redeem it all. 

I’ve mentioned this many times, my broken choices, my neglect of others, and the sorrow of my own heart, but I often fail to mention how God has been with me. See, the love of God is profound in that He is with us. A savior who loves well, is a savior who knows how to be with us. That is one thing God does very well. I’ve come to discover that it does not often look like what we think it will, it won’t be most of the time the way we want it, because God mentions “His ways are higher than our ways” God is outside of time and space, so I have started to ask myself, Who am I to question His version of grace? 

I am small, but mighty in His hands, I am weak, but strong in His strength, I am broken, but whole in His arms. I am dependent on the One who cares the most about the brokenness of this world. After a long week of distress and let’s be real, complaining and questioning God. I silenced the noise in my soul and asked God to speak. He did. He led me to Job 36. Job 36 starts with “God is mighty, But He does not despise anyone.” Elihu is speaking to Job in His suffering, Elihu goes on to say in Job 36:16 “God is leading you away from danger or in another translation He’s wooing you to a place free from distress.” He is setting your table with the best food, But you are obsessed with whether the godless will be judged.” I took this for myself as “Lily, God is wooing you with His love, God is pulling you closer, God is redeeming your life, but you are obsessed with how, when, and why.” Blaming God for our pasts, asking Him why something happened, and lamenting over our pain can only take us so far. 

Please hear me, I am not saying don’t lament, don’t weep before the comforter, don’t grieve your loss, but what I am saying and what God has said to me is eventually. It’s time to get up, it’s time to move forward, it’s time to lead others to the life-changing love you’ve experienced, it’s time to go. If I were to wait until my version of redemption was fulfilled, or my vision of wholeness and healing came to be I would never experience the God of all of those things, and I would never try to help others. 

Am I where I long to be? No, do I have all my dreams and wishes fulfilled? No. Do I still grieve? Yes. Do I still get angry and ask questions? Yes. Do I still wish certain things could have been different? Yes. But I choose to move forward, to weep before the comforter and continue to get up, and to ask questions all while still asking for more faith. I have the lover of my soul and the guide of my feet on my side and I am truly starting to understand what it means to lack no good thing, to know that He is for me, not against me, to know that I am seen, and know that redemption is coming for me. Jesus longs for you friend, you who suffer, you who lament, you who wish things could have been so different, He longs for you. He wants to hold you, care for, and redeem you. 

When I got down on my knees in my apartment four years ago, He was there, because He had been waiting. I don’t know what your story is, I don’t know what you’ve walked through, and I will not begin to speak to your pain, but I will point you to the only One who knows it and who can heal it. He has good things for you, He has green pastures, streams of still waters, and a new identity for you. He calls you by name so He can call you, Daughter, Son, Beloved, Chosen, Known, Seen, Held, Loved. 

You’re not too far gone for Him, He’s right there, waiting for you to embrace Him the way He’s already embracing you. 

Matthew 11:28 - “Come to me all who are weary, and I will give you rest.”

Fight for your mind

Fight for your mind. 

There is a reason why the Bible refers to the renewing of our minds repeatedly. It's because there is power in our thoughts. There is power in what we choose to think about, meditate on, and speak out. I have struggled with negativity, anxiety, and despair in different areas of my life, and one of the first things God spoke over me and to me was “ Daughter I want to renew and free your mind.” For years I was plagued with destructive thoughts and some of these thoughts led to very real choices.

When I first came to Christ, I struggled to believe that I could renew my mind and there was some truth there, I couldn’t. Not on my own, it only came with surrender day after day, time after time. Asking God to help me. Asking God what His thoughts are, what His words are, what He thinks of me. I struggled with low self-esteem and self-worth for most of my life, and when I came to Christ, that was the first thing He wanted to work on.

What I thought about my identity and who I was. 

I was living in lies and lies that had been spoken over me. I chose daily to partner with God in the renewal of my mind. This did not happen immediately. For almost two years after coming back to Jesus, I still woke up every day with obsessive and destructive thoughts, I still heard the voices that screamed obscenities over who I truly was and the mistakes I made. But I chose. I chose to get up, I chose to immerse myself in God's word and ask Him over and over. God, what do you say? What is the truth here? What do you say about me? 

And do you want to know what His answer was? He said I was chosen, called, known, seen, loved, forgiven, and set free. I am sharing this today to let you know, you can be free. You have a helper in this fight, The Holy Spirit. He's readily available to fight these battles with you.

Romans 12:2 says "Do not conform to the patterns of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind."

Ephesians 6:10-17 mentions putting on the full armor of God, the helmet of salvation, the shoes of peace, the breastplate of righteousness, the belt of truth, the shield of faith, and the sword of the spirit. God asks us to put our armor on and stand strong with Him. He is always encouraging us to walk forward and to move with Him. He is not a stagnant God, and He does not call us to be stagnant in this fight either. When your thoughts change, the people around you change, the way you think about yourself changes, your perspectives on life change, the choices you make change, and ultimately your life changes. This is a war for your mind, a war for your peace, and a war for your identity. It is a war that we will fight till our time here is up, but it is also a war that we can choose to already have victory over. 

2nd Timothy 1:7  “For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.” (NIV)

2 Corinthians 10:5 "We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ." (NIV)

Philippians 4:8 "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things." (ESV)

The Armor of God

EPHESIANS 6: 10-17

10 Finally, be strong in the Lord and His mighty power. 11 Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. 12 For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. 13 Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. 14 Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, 15 and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. 16 In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. 17 Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. (NIV)

I’m learning how to bring all of me to the feet of Jesus.

For years I kept everything under wraps, hidden, thinking it was safer there. Thinking that if no one knew, no one would leave, no one would give up on me, no one would run away. I learned to keep it all inside. I learned that my tears were not worth hearing, and my cries for help entered a void instead of loving arms.

One thing I love about Jesus is He is the Light. He is the one who shines on everything that is hidden, shameful, dark, and broken. He doesn’t just shine His light He also brings his healing hand. When I began my journey of healing there were things I could not touch. I could feel the physical pain manifest in my body, it was a wound. A deep wound that I refused to receive healing for because I was afraid of how much it would hurt. I was afraid of the pain. Little by little God led me. He led me in His word to learn more about His character, He led me in my quiet times with words of love, and encouragement. He led me with whispers and reminders that He is a good God who takes His time.

During my healing journey, I have pleaded with God to rip off the bandaid, tell me the answer, or take all the pain away. When I ask Him this He consoles me, He reminds me where He was in those moments, He speaks over the broken words that have been spoken over me, and then with His hand, He begins to press gently on the wound nudging me to bring it fully to Him.

And slowly but surely I do. I bring Him the fullness of my tears, my grief, and my broken hope. I allow Him to speak into it, and slowly but surely I get back up. I regain the strength that I need for the day or the hour and I come to know Him as my Rapha, My healer, My loving Father, my faithful friend, and my redeemer.

Jeremiah 31:3-6

31 “At that time,” declares the Lord, “I will be the God of all the families of Israel, and they will be my people.”

2 This is what the Lord says:

“The people who survive the sword
    will find favor in the wilderness;
    I will come to give rest to Israel.”

3 The Lord appeared to us in the past,[a] saying:

“I have loved you with an everlasting love;
    I have drawn you with unfailing kindness.
4 I will build you up again,
    and you, Virgin Israel, will be rebuilt.
Again you will take up your timbrels
    and go out to dance with the joyful.
5 Again you will plant vineyards
    on the hills of Samaria;
the farmers will plant them
    and enjoy their fruit.
6 There will be a day when watchmen cry out
    on the hills of Ephraim,
‘Come, let us go up to Zion,
    to the Lord our God.’

-NIV translation

Words written 4/08/24

Photos taken 09/24

The Idol Of A Title

Throughout my entire life, I have allowed myself to be defined by a “title”

Over the past year, I worked at Cru Inner City and Chick-fil-A. Both of these jobs challenged me in different ways. They exposed pride, hidden motivations, and my idol of a title. I remember when I was offered Chick-fil-A. It was in September of 2023 and I remember telling God. The one thing I will not return to is fast food. As I’ve grown in my faith I’ve come to truly understand I will never understand God's ways and what a blessing that is.

I got the job on the spot and I remember looking at my uniform and an overwhelm of shame washed over me. I remember the months I cried out to God in my apartment, yelling “I am worth more than this” I remember His kindness in those moments. I remember Him saying “Your job is not your identity” and in that moment he broke another chain.

Deliverance of one's soul and life is a process, while the word was spoken over me, the walking out took time. Even after that, I would come to tear-soaked pillows and balled-up fists. Asking God, when will this season end instead of saying “Thank you for a paycheck.” My time at cru exposed my entitlement to authority, and my desire to be in charge no matter what. My time in Chick-fil-A has shown me my lack of servant's heart.

It has now been seven months since I started at Chick-fil-A, and the prayer has changed. Instead of God when will this end, I have started to say how can I love my co-worker today? How can I love the person at the register today?

Do I always do it well? No.

Do I mess up, do I still struggle with this job, yes. But I have learned to say thank you because this is what the glory of God looks like right now. It looks like long hours, a job I don’t like so I can work towards the things that bring me and Him life.

Let the redeemed of The Lord tell their story

Let the redeemed of the Lord tell their story.

I have written this story before. Many times actually. I have named everything someone has done to me, with very little account for who I used to be. It’s true, horrible things have taken place in my life, but I will not neglect to tell the story of who I was before Jesus.

As one who never knew who she was or whose she was. I struggled to fit in, striving for belonging at every table, even the ones that didn’t fit me. I was manipulative, dishonest and a very much one for all kind of person. I had dreams that never lined up with the kingdom of God. I struggled through identity issues well into my twenties which created an array of choices that almost killed me. But by Gods grace I am still here.

He spoke to me in those rooms, the darkest places of my soul, and He said you don’t belong here, you belong to me. Throughout my journey with Jesus I have learned how patient He is. And when we say God is on time, usually we are talking about the miracle He will do for us, the dream He has for us, but what I’m referring to now, is His rescue. He was on time.

In the middle of my one bedroom apartment I called out to God. I told Him I can’t do this anymore, I need you, I am broken, I am lost, and I need a savior to heal me. I remember recalling His death on the cross. Rather than that resonating with me, it was this idea that this man loved me enough to heal me.

I had run around searching for healing in men, career accolades, friendship groups, and within my own understanding and strength. It was not until the fall of 2020 that I admitted I was wrong about how I wanted to live my life and not until I realized I would not survive if I kept on the way I was living that God came down to rescue me.

Now four years later, I am free to heal, free to forgive, free to dream, free to re-imagine, rebuild and rediscover this beautiful life that is truly a gift regifted to me by the creator of it. I share this with you today to let you know God is a rescuer. He is a healer, and He longs to love you, love you back to life.

I have a hope and a future, I am healing and growing into the woman I was meant to be. Leaving behind little by little fear of the future and running everyday into my Fathers arms.

I don’t have my dream career or job yet, I’m not married yet, I don’t have all the money in the world, but I have never felt more whole and free than I do now.

Pslam 91: 14-16

The Lord says, “I will rescue those who love me.
    I will protect those who trust in my name.
15 When they call on me, I will answer;
    I will be with them in trouble.
    I will rescue and honor them.
16 I will reward them with a long life
    and give them my salvation.”

Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death.

"Though I walk through the shadow of the valley of death, I will fear no evil for you are with me. You hold me by my right hand."

Death. 

An uncomfortable topic. A topic that often brings mourning, anger, and even avoidance. There are different forms of death that we walk through in this life whether we know God or not. 

When I came to Christ I was dead in sin, dead in deceit, dead in self-righteousness, dead in this world and all that it placed upon me, and that I placed upon myself. For the last three years, I have walked through what I call my valley. A journey of unlearning, undoing, and unbecoming. The Bible talks about this, it talks about how once you receive Christ, you receive new life.

What must come before a new life? Death. Death to who you used to be. Death to who you thought you’d be. Death to who you wanted to be. With this, there is pain. There is a searing form of grief for those of us who have less than perfect stories mixed with “God where were you, God, how could they, and God what have I done” I would know, as those have been prayers echoed from one bedroom apartments to circles of close friends.  

This morning I stood in my apartment avoiding the inevitable grief that comes from me thinking about where I am. Acknowledging the middle of my wilderness and the distance of a promise. As I allowed the tears to pour and the silence fill the room, I became full. Full of release, full of courage, full of belief. The belief is that this is not the end of my story. This is not the end of the story God is writing, this is the middle. And in the middle it’s messy. It’s painful, it’s honest, but it’s also for a purpose. I share this with you today to say that if you yourself are walking through your valley, your death of a dream, loss of a relationship, grief of your past, whatever it may be. Let me remind you as I remind myself who God is. He’s the redeemer, A good father, a rescuer, a sovereign Lord, a healer, restorer, and He is the God of redemption stories. 

My healing is not dependent on me, and as I take a sigh of relief mixed with tears, I remember. I remember who He is, and remind myself. I am free.

Psalm 23:4

Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

(NIV)

2nd Corinthians 5:17

17 Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come:[a] The old has gone, the new is here!

(NIV).

Written 2/23/24

Photo taken in the summer of 2021

Dear Dreamer,

Dear dreamer,

Let me remind you of your courage. Your courage to step out, and take God at His word. That He has good plans for you, that He will give you the desires of your heart, that the harvest is ripe but the workers are few.

Let me remind you of how needed you are despite what this world may tell you, despite what your parents, friends, or others may tell you. Let me remind that you that the Author of Heaven is cheering you on. Let me remind you that faith without works is dead.

I get it,
Dreaming is terrifying, it involves risk, a million what ifs and you are bound to make mistakes along the way.

But why is your fear stopping you? Why is the opinions of others and the desire to please others holding you back? Why are you pacing every morning before God asking Him to help you without the courage of the first step?

Have you been wounded, are you tired?

Are you losing hope or faith? The Father says come to me, rest in my arms beloved one as I restore every part of your being, every desire of your precious heart, every longing of yours. Come to me and dream with me, let me fuel you, and pour into you. Let me remind you how I was with Moses, Joshua, Rahab, Mary, and Esther.

Let me remind you what my word says. Take courage dear one!

Be strong and do not fear. But if you do, that is okay. I am here, waiting, leading, and cheering you on. Cling to me, and I will lead you.

Dear dreamer,

Have you forgotten the truth laced within Ephesians 3:20?

Have you forgotten that I am the abundance. Have you forgotten that I exceed expectations? Dear dreamer, you are seen, loved, held, and heard. Let’s try again.
Let’s dust off our feet, let’s ask God for help, and then let’s step out.

One day at a time, one choice at a time, and one moment at a time.



Joshua 1:9

9 Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” (NIV)

Matthew 11:28:

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. (NIV)

Take God out of the box

God is expansive.

My goodness, if only you knew how much God longs for us to see Him outside of the box we have tenderly, and sometimes for our own comfort placed Him in.

I have recognized my desire to place God in a box. In a person, community, even a job. It feels good and safe. To know where God is. To know what He’s doing all the time, To know what’s around the corner. I realize what a disservice that is to the God of the universe, The King of Kings, and The Lord of Lords.

God will allow you to put Him in a box, while gently asking and nudging you to open it.

What a Good God.

To invite you into opening your door, your box, and your perspective to show you so much more.

I have longed for certainty for the illusion of safety. God in His kindness shatters that, He breaks the glass ceiling. He will take everything you know about Him and say “My darling, there is so much more.”

It's been one month into 2024, and I am walking confidently into February while continuing to ask the question;

What does it look like to take God out of the box?

To take Him beyond what my comfort zone is?

This Sunday, I’m gathering with a couple of friends to create a vision board. I’ve never this done before out of this fear, that what if my dreams, the core of my heart are not from God?

What if I’m dreaming too big?

What if I’m wrong?

This act of faith in a vision board opens a door, inviting God into this sacred act of worship, and dreaming with Him. Inviting Him to lead the pieces I cut out, and the words I paste boldly on a blank slate.

Believing Him, not just for what He has done, or what He will do. But for who He is.

Even if none of this, or all of it happens, I’m taking a chance on God by inviting Him to create with me on this blank slate.

So friends,

As we walk forward in this new year with joy, sorrow, forgotten, or new dreams.

Let us do so with Hope.

Hope in The God of dreams, hope in the Father of lights, Hope in the one who already knows it all.

Let us try asking God; “Take yourself out of the box I have put you in.”

Isaiah 55: 8-9

8 “For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
    neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the Lord.
9 “As the heavens are higher than the earth,
    so are my ways higher than your ways
    and my thoughts than your thoughts. (NIV)

Photo taken in New York City, October 2021

Can it be different?

Can it be different?

That question echoed in my spirit, when I found myself dragging my feet to the altar to surrender a dream I was holding onto. "Can it be different God?" “Can you redeem this?”

I often find God answering in small whispers, nudges, and new conversations. I want signs in the sky or blinking green lights. My love language is words of affirmation, deep knowing, and absolute certainty. God has a sense of humor, He loves to challenge our familiar through an invitation to the unknown. Holding on tightly to anything erases the beauty of what can be. It often imprisons me to only what I want, what I desire, canceling out what God wants, what He desires, and what He hopes for.

For the first three years of my walk with Jesus, my prayers were dressed heavily in petitions, complaints, and wants. Throughout my journey with God, I have learned the pure innocence of a need over a want.

Does God care about what we want?

Absolutely, but can we trust that He also knows what we need?

I find myself knocking at the door of my wants more than recognizing my needs. It is often after knocking on a closed door, or pleading for the same thing, that I choose to surrender. I fall to my knees, and I whisper "God, give me what I need. "

He delights in our wants but desires to give us what we need. The tension here is, will it always be what we want? No, and that can also be the beauty, the wrestle. That is the walk of faith.

There is a story in the Bible of a man named Jacob wrestling with God. He pleaded with The Lord, and in his own way said "I will not let go until you bless me!" The Lord blessed Jacob, but He was never the same because He saw the face of God. How often do we tend to run away and let go before the blessing?

How often do we sink into the despair of what we don’t have over what we do?

I’m guilty of this. I’m the one who will knock on the door that will not open till my knuckles bleed, but He’s merciful. He’s patient, and He's always there to tend to my wounds.

I’m learning how to be like Jacob, the one who will not let go until I receive the reward of God's presence. Even if I walk away differently.

Story referenced

Jacob Wrestles With God

Genesis 32: 22-32

22 That night Jacob got up and took his two wives, his two female servants and his eleven sons and crossed the ford of the Jabbok.23 After he had sent them across the stream, he sent over all his possessions. 24 So Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him till daybreak. 25 When the man saw that he could not overpower him, he touched the socket of Jacob’s hip so that his hip was wrenched as he wrestled with the man. 26 Then the man said, “Let me go, for it is daybreak.”

But Jacob replied, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.”

27 The man asked him, “What is your name?”

“Jacob,” he answered.

28 Then the man said, “Your name will no longer be Jacob, but Israel,[a] because you have struggled with God and with humans and have overcome.”

29 Jacob said, “Please tell me your name.”

But he replied, “Why do you ask my name?” Then he blessed him there.

30 So Jacob called the place Peniel,[b] saying, “It is because I saw God face to face, and yet my life was spared.”

31 The sun rose above him as he passed Peniel,[c] and he was limping because of his hip. 32 Therefore to this day the Israelites do not eat the tendon attached to the socket of the hip, because the socket of Jacob’s hip was touched near the tendon.

NIV

Photos taken in 2020.

In this moment I want to scream at the sky.

I ache for my voice to be heard in a way where it doesn’t feel so small. 

I have found myself cursing the ground and burying my face in the realities of what I cannot change. 

My God, 

I have found my heart at the bottom of the well and in the hands of The Father.

I have found myself beating down doors, and ripping out the seeds of the gardens that are taking too long to grow. 

I have found the Light while I throw up my hands and scream silently into the night. 

I have found my faith on my knees and the answers to my prayers in tear soaked confessions. 

I curse God more than I praise him. 

I run from God more than I run to him. 

But in those moments. 

The ones that break my knees and steal my voice I find peace.

I experience the eternal. 

I dance in the idea of forever and trust that it’s mine.

I am forced to believe in a greater Love than what I can see right now. Feel right now, Trust right now. 

So I hold on. 

I wait. 

I release. 

I let go. 

I choose to keep planting flowers in the gardens that are taking their time to grow. 

Believing that I will see the light in my eyes the way I believe in the light for others. 

Believing that I too will dance a long the tops of hillsides. 

Believing that the waiting,

While it breaks me, will build me. 

For I am a piece of clay in the potters hands. 

A piece of clay that understands this world is not mine, and my life is not one to hold onto, but to let go of. 

LPM

Poem written in 2020

Heal

I remember the first prayer I ever really prayed. I said “God I heard you can heal people, will you heal me?”

The word "heal" and "healing" means to make solid or whole. In the Bible it means the restoration of health, the making whole or well whether physically, mentally or spiritually.

“I heard you can heal people, will you heal me?” it has been three years since that prayer. What has happened since then? I have started to fully love myself, I have surrendered my life to something better that I could ever imagine here on earth. I have found deep joy in sorrow and trial.

I have learned how to say I’m sorry, admit I’m a sinner and receive the grace that is boundless each day. I have found hope in each day, because my hope is not of this world, but rather in the One who created it. I have learned to let go.

Yes, there are days when my hands cling to the story that is still being written, but each day little by little I let go.

I have never found more freedom than when I learned to unclench my fists and release my grip. I have discovered peace beyond the capacity of this world, I have seen heaven come to earth and been invited to join in on building it. I have wept, I have asked for forgiveness and I have learned the power in forgiving your enemies and those who have hurt you.

I have started to build and be part of real relationships that go past the surface, but rather invite all of someone else in and extend all of me to them. Not just the parts I like.

There is a story in the Bible about a man who was paralyzed. He had been for years. I relate to this man. I too was paralyzed and trapped in someone I was never called to be. When I asked Jesus to heal me, he said something along the lines of get up. Pick up your mat and walk. He said that to the paralyzed man, and what did he do? he Believed. He got up, and he began to walk. Many were amazed and some criticized him, and his only response was “The man who healed me told me, pick up your mat and walk.”

If you’ve never come to know the God of the universe and His heart for you I want to invite you now to ask Jesus to heal you. Ask him with a shaky voice or in total confidence. Ask him on your knees or under your breath. He will hear you, and He wants to heal you. I’m still in a journey. A journey of unlearning, undoing, and becoming. I will never arrive, and it has freed me even more to know that I will not arrive, but I will always grow. I will always progress, and one day I will see the harvest of my seed when I stand in front of my Father. Blameless because His son Jesus died for me and for you.

The Choice To Get Up

At the age of 19 I began the adventure of discovering who I really am. I took many different turns, twists, faced obstacles, and overcame them all. I allowed myself to try every box, every job, and every thrill in this life. I embedded myself in different stories, experiences and people. I allowed myself to fail, admit when I was deeply disappointed, wrong, and continued to choose to get back up.
I did everything I could to fit the expectations of a world that would never love me the way I wanted it to. I sacrificed the deepest parts of myself for love, affection, and belonging. I allowed my voice to conform to the echo of culture, and everyone around me. I said yes when I wanted to say no, I allowed myself to be pushed into silent submission. Until one day I told myself. There is a reason I am here. There is a purpose to my pain. There is a reason to continue and I need to find it.
I began to seek God, turns out He was always seeking me. I began to ask questions about myself, my identity. I began to question everything I knew and I allowed the foundation I had built to crumble. Every piece. Every dream, every expectation. I allowed it all to shatter. Then I sat. I sat with the grief. I sat with the disappointment, I sat with the self betrayal. I allowed myself to be angry. Really angry, I poured our heartfelt and prayers full of words I would never say on a regular day. I allowed myself to grieve. Deeply grieve. Then I told myself. It was time to let go. It was time to begin again, it was time to set out on the next grand adventure which was allowing myself to become the woman God has always destined and called me to be. I chose to get up. Get up from the floor, the broken relationships, the searing disappointments, the horrific choices I made, the hurt I caused and the hurt that i was dealt. I chose to forgive.

I chose to forgive my parents as they had forgiven me. I chose to forgive all of my ex partners and abusers. I chose to say I’m sorry, will you forgive me? I chose to say “God help me” I chose to be free. I chose to begin the process of forgiving myself, I chose to partner with God in the breaking of the chains that bound me and begin to release the voice instilled within me. I chose to let go of my pain, because God said so clearly. “I have a better plan for you, I have good things for you, I have a family for you, I have a calling for you, will you trust me?”
It took a lot to get to the surrender of yes. It took a lot to get to begin to let go of the idea of what I wanted and embrace Gods knowing and believing He knows best. But I’m here. I’m here in a different way. I’m here in a way where I have healed from some of the things I thought I could never let go of. I’m here in a way where the identities of this world will never claim me again. I’m here in the now, trusting in the promises of God, I’m here in the continuous letting go of my life and the acceptance of the new life that is in front of me.

I share this part of my story to say. Don't be afraid to let go, while it is painful it is freedom. It is liberation. It is the realization of your dreams, who you are and what you are called to do in this very short yet beautiful life.

Jeremiah 29:11 “For I know the plans I have for you says The Lord, plans to prosper you, to bring you hope and future.”
Romans 12:2 “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—His good, pleasing and perfect will.”

John 5:8 “Then Jesus said to him, “Get up! Pick up your mat and walk.”

John 8: 10-11  Jesus straightened up and asked her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”

11 “No one, sir,” she said.

“Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Go now and leave your life of sin.”

In my cry of unbelief, He answered me.

I have often wondered why people don’t believe in God. Even when I was far from Him I knew in my heart He existed. As I’ve grown older, hear stories of heartache and terror. I come to realize my deeper need for Him. Need and belief can be different.

When I sat with God for the first time in my one-bedroom apartment three years ago,  surrounded by the ruins of my own choices and the choices I could not control. I did not believe in Him but I needed Him. I needed the silent comfort that came from his presence. I needed His voice to calm mine down, and I needed His embrace to break open mine. I needed all of these things but I did not always believe in them. I don’t blame you if you don’t believe in God. This world is hard, painful, merciless at times, and broken.

I remember the first time I really prayed. I said to God, I don’t care about what you’ve done, but I heard you can heal people, will you heal me? Little did I know that prayer that was prayed between heavy sobs, and at times inconsolable grief was a prayer of great faith. There is a verse in the Bible that talks about having the faith of a mustard seed. That day I had a sliver of that mustard seed, and I chose to utter the words that would begin to change my life forever. In my own words, I began to pray, “I believe, and help my unbelief. ”

I tend to stray from the idea of unbelief. It seems cruel to tell God I don’t believe in you, but often I find His welcoming presence in the cry of unbelief.

In my attempt to be perfect, I forget God.

I’m someone who longs to be invincible, and as I grow, change, and let go. I’ve come to realize I am human.

Flawed, broken, whole, and fragile.

It’s much easier for me to cry out to God when I desperately need Him, rather than every hour of every day. It takes death to my pride to realize over and over how much I need Him. We are not made to do life alone, and for years I tried too. The happy faces I would share on social media, while behind the scenes I was lost. I was alone, and I was hurting. Now three years later, it’s better. Is it perfect? No, but it is good. It’s beautiful, it’s learning how to live a day at a time, and it’s grieving the past while looking expectantly to the future. There is a passage in scripture that invites me in a little more each time I read it.  Luke 5:31-32 - “Jesus answered them, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick.  I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.” That verse can sting, it invited me to look at myself and say I’m not all that great, but I’m also not that bad. I need a savior, and to be in need of the King of the Universe is not a bad thing, it’s a beautiful, just, and holy thing. I’ll never get it 100% right, and I’ll always mess up, but I am invited and reminded that to be human in the face of a Holy God is a good thing.

Come

Come boldly before the face of God

Come hungry

Come tired

Come as you are

Undone

Broken

Seeking

Searching

Hoping

Come

For He is waiting.

-LPM

Poem written 11/14/22

Post written April 2023

Photos taken March 2023

Discontentment

I want to talk about Discontentment. 

I am learning how to honor and celebrate people well. This was never something I was particularly good at. I struggled a lot with bitterness, jealousy, anger, and Fomo ( we all know it as fear of missing out.) I would look at the lives of others and say to God. “I want this, I want this now, I want that family, I want that job, I want that house.” Why God can’t I have what they have? God is kind in the sense that He always listens, He listens while I yell, scream, or sometimes just cry. What I love about God is that while I may say one thing, He hears the only thing that matters; my heart. I have had many moments in my life where I have glanced at the family of another, the partner of another, the job of another, and I have allowed myself to fall into the worlds first temptation. Discontentment. 

Discontent with where God had me then, and where He has me now. I’ve never been a Bible guru and I’m still not, but what I have learned about Adam and Eve is that Eve thought that God was holding out on her. She thought that she knew better than God. I can be the first to say I lived my life as someone who thought she knew better than God. That always ended me up in the same relationships, same problems, and same cycles. God is gracious, He’s a gentleman and I have learned that He does not push, shove, or intrude. He will wait until you are ready to give to him what you are clinging to, or holding on to. The power of surrender to contentment is not just acceptance but Joy. 

Joy in the present, joy in your circumstances, joy in your daily life. The ability to celebrate others and mean it. I have spent much of my life in either an intentional or unintentional waiting, and it is not like God to show you the promise then walk you through the desert, the storm, or the wilderness. Part of that is learning to celebrate others, honor others, cheer for others. Regardless if you get your promise or not, because what He has taught me and is continuing to teach me is He is the promise, He is the call, He is the gift and so often do I miss that. He is the giver of every good thing, and while it may be painful, while it may be hard. I am learning to say God, if you aren’t in it. I don’t want it. 

Pslam 23 says “The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.” 

Matthew 6:33 “ But seek first His kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”

Friendship

The meaning of friendship has been on my heart recently. 

When I was growing up, I never had a best friend, but I always wanted one. Most of my time was spent trying to be accepted, unsure of who I was. No one ever got to know the real me, because I was too busy trying to be like everyone else. High school and middle school were messy years. They were full of confusion, questions, and a lot of heartbreak. There was also a time in my life when I was afraid to be friends with women.  I struggled to relate to them healthily, I remember telling myself that it was easier to be friends with men, because deep down I was looking for protection, and I was looking for safety.

As I’ve grown older, I’ve seen the beauty and truth laced within the phrase "quality over quantity."

God has a way of bringing you the people you need to learn and grow when you least expect it. Nicole and I met three years ago at church. I told her everything about me, and she listened. She told me about her life, and from then on we were inseparable. Her selfless example pointed me to the idea that I needed to change.

I was used to transactional relationships. I didn't know what it meant to be a true friend for a long time. My life always looked like I had a lot of people, but the truth is I was lonely. I had no one and at the end of the day, I couldn’t blame anyone but myself. I decided to commit to change, learning, growing, and seeking out women who would help me grow in Christ and myself. 

Almost three years later, The Lord in His kindness has provided me with something deeper than friendship: a rich sisterhood. I used to think that I needed to be just like my friends, but there is beauty in our differences and reasons for our strengths and weaknesses. I needed the kind of friendship that could be patient with me as I decided to continue to heal, I needed women in my life who understood my fear of deep relationships. They are women who push me to grow and carry me when I cannot do it alone. They provide wisdom, but they also provide joy. I needed women who could listen and God provided.

I’m still growing into who God has created me to be, but His mercies are new every morning and I am grateful for the people He has given me in this life. Special shout out to my dear sister Nicole, I am forever grateful to her. She was the friend that walked me through the darkest moments of this journey, she listened to me, she never judged me, and she showed me the heart of Jesus.

Proverbs 27:17 states “Iron sharpens iron, and Proverbs 18:24 states “There is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.”

I am a Storyteller

I am not just a photographer, or a writer. I’m a storyteller. 

For years I wrestled with words and photos, always wanting to choose one but ultimately coming to the conclusion that I want the best of both worlds. I remember the first time that I was introduced to photography.  I didn’t know what I wanted or why I was drawn to it but it felt like a lightbulb went on. I was able to see the world with fresh eyes for the first time. No longer bound by the ideals of the world rather sinking into the depths of the human experience, and the human heart. It was like seeing the light for the first time, and once again believing in something beautiful. I remember being able to channel my emotions into something without having to say a word. It was freeing and it was healing. When I could not find the words, I found a photo, when I could not find a photo I wrote a word. Almost seven years later I have made the decision to marry the two. Do I know how yet? Not quite, but that won’t keep me from trying. There is a rush that occurs when someone opens up to me and shares part of their heart. 

I love people, and I love stories. This love comes from the deep-seated desire to experience someone’s heart. We live in a culture that defines us by what we do, how we dress, who we love, and what we say. I have found the freedom in letting all that go and allowing God to define me. While I struggle deeply at times, I find rest and freedom in knowing that He is for me, and not against me. The gift that photography is to me is the ability to see people the way God created them, whole, beautiful, and His creation. Someone’s eyes can tell you a lot about them, stories, tragedy, love, and loss.  It’s true what they say, a photo is worth a thousand words. I value the moments that people open up to me when I get to take their photos and even when they don’t, I cherish the time I get to spend behind the lens.

 Photography to me is an act of intimacy. It’s not just a job, a way to earn money or collect a few likes on Instagram it’s more than that. I believe that when we find the things that we love in this life, we are to give them back to God and simply ask Him. What do you want me to do with this? How can I serve others with this? 

Laying it down three years ago was incredibly hard, it took humility, admitting that I was afraid, and admitting that maybe I was wrong about the way I wanted to live my life. Three years later the desire came back in a new way. To capture a story regardless if it becomes a career or not. To do the thing that I love and listen to people while I’m at it. I don’t know what this next season of photography looks like, but I am allowing myself to be open and fall in love with it again. Stories make this world go round, they take us out of ourselves and into something deeper. 

What’s yours?

A Voice For The One Who Wants To Try Something New

Writing my first book changed my life. 

But not in the way you’d think. 

I learned the value of hardwork. 

I discovered the courage that comes from using your voice for the first time in a world that has tried desperately to erase it. I realized the need to believe in your own dreams even if no one else does. I discovered the power in deciding not to quit when it got hard, when people decided to leave, and when I had nothing left. I learned about the beauty in making mistakes, in failing over and over again just to get it right once.I realized I didn’t need to be perfect. I found out what it’s like to ask for help. Real help, not the passive help that asks carefully but the kind that is bold. The kind that calls out and says Father, I have nothing left, please help me. I learned about the art of surrender. The surrender to the words waiting to be written before me to someone else, no matter how much it hurt, or how badly I wanted to quit, I kept going. I learned how to live on just enough to just get by and be content with that. I let go of the hopes for more and held onto the promise of enough. I learned about integrity not only within my own word, but the way I chose to show up each day, the days I wanted to work two jobs and work on this book, and the days I could barely get myself out of bed. I learned about rest, to tell myself when it was okay to stop, to take a break, and to just breathe. I learned about how loved I was and how much God cared first about me, rather than what I did. I learned about the strength in choosing to be alone for a season. I saw the need to no longer settle for what it is not, but could not be for me in every aspect of my life. I finally accepted that I cannot save anyone. I discovered the power of leaning on only God for a season or two. I learned how to stand on my own two feet, even when the waves of this world or the storms of tomorrow crashed through my window. 

I learned how to be proud of myself, to look at my work and say “well done.” I realized that confidence was okay, and that I could acknowledge how hard I worked to become who I am today. I saw the need to let go of my past, so I could write myself into the future. I discovered the desire to care deeply for others in a way that I hadn’t before. I saw the beauty of choosing others before myself in a new way. A way that heard a call and decided to answer it, a way that saw the grief of others, and the call to serve. 

I learned how to seek joy in hardship, and find the little things on my worst days. I realized how small I was and decided that, that was okay. I learned how to let go of control, release my plans, and walk into the ones that had been written for me before the beginning of my life. I learned about God, and His heart not only for me but for others. 

And finally, 

I learned how to start something new even when you’re afraid, even if you doubt yourself. I learned how to have faith in what I was promised even if I couldn’t see it yet. 

Here is a letter for the ones trying new things.

Birthing new projects and writing new things. Here is a word for the ones diving into the deep, recklessly. Here’s to the ones who are learning how to breathe in this process so many of us call waiting. Thank you, you inspire me.

Thank you to the ones who kept going when they wanted to quit. Thank you to the ones believing in something greater, something beautiful, something good. We need you, I need you. I’ve needed your words, your stories and your hope. The light you carry, the dreams you have. They are needed. As we move into the next season of life together or apart. Thank you. Thank you for your words, your art, and your passion. It inspires me on the days I’ve wanted to quit. The hours I thrown my hands up and have asked is this worth it. Those are the days I dive deep into stories. Deep into narratives outside of mine. So, keep writing. Keep dreaming, keep going. Your stories and who you are is needed.

Love, 

Lily