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Some of our most memorable moments are captured when we get the privilege of experiencing unfiltered beauty. We stand mesmerized at the stunning rawness. We breathe it in with wonder and question if it’s been sculpted and eroded by the elements or if this is the unedited version. The terrain exists on display in its
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There is a quiet ache that settles in when the future feels uncertain — a tender, pulsing space between what was and what will be. I am sitting here, in that in-between. It’s the place of waiting. Of surrender. Of not knowing what comes next, yet trusting that there is a sovereign plan unfolding —
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This has been a week of significant grieving. I have felt the weight of division, the seething anger of intolerance, the separation of humanity, and the ache of bloodshed. I have felt the separation and have grieved the distance of ideologies—how beliefs and perspectives can pull people apart, even those who deeply care for one
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Showing Up To show up is morethan standing in a room—it is pausing,listening with the ears of your heart,and seeing the unspoken. It is the quiet attention,the phone put down,the world held at bayso they may speak,so they may be heard. It is hands that help,meals that arrive at just the right time,notes left like
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Year 55… you tried to break me. You came with your storms, your confusion, and your relentless tests. You brought seasons that felt unfamiliar and moments that left me disoriented. Yet in the middle of it all, God whispered a word over my life—resilience. And that word became my anchor, my banner, and my testimony.
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There is a sacred kind of beauty in being cared for—extravagantly. It’s not loud or flashy. It doesn’t demand attention. But it arrives like dew on thirsty ground, like balm to a weathered soul. It’s the kind of love that surprises me in the quiet places—reminding me that I am seen, held, and cherished by
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A Prayer for Healthy Connection and Gentle Pacing Lord,You see the ache in my heart—the weariness from walking through a year of emotional dryness and disconnection. You know the silent places in me that have gone unseen, untouched, and unmet. I bring them to You now, asking You to hold them with tenderness. God, when
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There’s something sacred about the quiet of morning — the hush before the world stirs, the soft light breaking through the dark. It’s in that stillness that I remember: His mercies are new every single morning. Not borrowed from yesterday, not held off for tomorrow, but fresh — tailored for today. I’ve come to know
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It’s been one of the toughest seasons of my life. There have been days I didn’t think I’d make it — when the grief sat too heavy on my chest, when silence screamed louder than words, and when every prayer felt like it vanished into the air before it could reach heaven. I’ve cried in
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She wakes just before the sun, eyes blinking in the soft light filtering through the blinds. Her first breath of the day is slow and deep—and without even thinking, she gives thanks. The air feels cool, clean, and promising. There’s a familiar ache in her joints, but her feet touch the floor, and she walks.
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There’s a quiet but persistent truth written deep into our design: we are made to heal. It might not always feel that way. Life wounds us in ways we didn’t see coming—betrayals, illness, abuse, loss, disappointment, rejection. Some wounds cut so deep we wonder if we’ll ever be whole again. But if you’ve ever watched
“Owning our story can be hard but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it. Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy—the experiences that make us the most vulnerable. Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.” – Brené Brown
Braving Authenticity
Embracing the Journey
Braving Authenticity 