There’s a quiet place I’ve learned to treasure above every other, the secret place. It isn’t a room you can decorate or a schedule you can perfect. It’s that sacred meeting point between a weary human heart and the living, loving God.

There’s a particular kind of ache that comes when you’ve failed... again. Maybe it’s the same sin you swore you’d never repeat. Maybe it’s a harsh word spoken in anger, a poor decision made out of fear, or a moment where you felt you disappointed God more than anyone else. You replay it over and over in your mind, wishing you could take it back, feeling that quiet heaviness settle over your heart.

There are days when I sit in church, surrounded by people who seem completely caught up in worship, yet I feel nothing. The music swells, voices rise, hands lift, but my heart feels distant, as if a fog rests between me and God. It is not that I do not love Him; I do. But sometimes the deep closeness I long for simply does not seem to come.

I’m sitting here in an old, tattered sweater, wrapped in a blanket, trying to fight off whatever sickness has decided to settle in this week. My body feels weak, but it’s my heart that feels heavier today. It’s Sunday, my favorite day of the week, and instead of being in church or spending the afternoon with my daughter and my grandchildren like I usually do, I’m sitting here alone, listening to the quiet.

Have you ever stood in front of the mirror, sighing at what you saw staring back? Maybe you’ve thought, I’ll finally feel confident when I lose the weight… when I land that job… when I’m married… when people finally see my worth. If we’re honest, most of us women, regardless of our age, culture, or season of life, have struggled with confidence. The world tells us that confidence is something we have to earn, achieve, or fake.

Have you ever felt like you’re running late in life? Maybe you look around and see women your age married with children, climbing the career ladder, buying homes, or launching ministries while you’re still waiting for your next step. Or perhaps you once carried a dream in your heart, but as the years have passed, that dream feels more like a fading hope. 

I want to begin this post with great sensitivity. In light of recent events, many of us are grieving. The tragic assassination of Charlie Kirk, a man of God, has left deep pain in the hearts of his wife, children, family, friends, and countless others who were touched by his ministry. His life was stolen from him, yet there is no question about where he stood with God or the calling on his life. Charlie lived and spoke with boldness, teaching the gospel with conviction, even when it was unpopular. 

There is a quiet weight many of us carry as women. We are nurturers, planners, problem-solvers, caretakers, and helpers. Whether you are a young mother trying to keep up with little ones, a single woman working long hours, a wife pouring into your marriage, or a grandmother offering wisdom to your family, you know the pressure. Life can often feel like a never-ending to-do list.

Life is not static. It moves like the tides, shifts like the wind, and changes like the seasons. Each season carries its own beauty, but also its own set of challenges. Some seasons feel like spring—new beginnings, fresh hope, and life blossoming everywhere. Others resemble summer—long days, joy, and warmth. Then come autumn seasons of letting go, where the Lord asks us to release what we’ve been holding onto. And there are winters—cold, barren, and quiet—when we wonder if life will ever bloom again.

A few weeks ago, I shared about the dreams God gave me concerning my son Joseph, and the ways He used them to guide, warn, and prepare me as a mother. Since then, He has led me to share other dreams that He gave me in the past. Two of them stand out, not only because of the clarity and intimacy with which God spoke, but also because they carry lessons about how He communicates with us while we sleep.

I can still see that moment clearly, sitting in church when God first called me. It wasn’t an audible voice or a dramatic sign. Instead, it was a vivid image, a vision in my heart. I was standing behind the pulpit with a Bible in my hand, speaking God’s Word. More than anything, I felt called to teach women, to share His truth in a way that would touch hearts and change lives. Deep down, I knew this was the path He wanted me to take. But even with that knowing, I didn’t chase after it. I did pursue God, but only for a season, and then life’s swirling currents pulled me away.

Sometimes, the voice of God doesn’t arrive with a flash of lightning or the rumble of thunder. Sometimes, it slips quietly into your spirit. A whisper so certain you can’t explain it away.

Have you ever had one of those seasons where you just didn’t feel strong enough?

There is something deeply sacred about names, especially the names of God. In Scripture, names were never just labels. They held meaning, identity, and calling. To know someone’s name was to know something essential about who they were. And when God reveals His names to us, He is not just telling us about Himself. He is inviting us to experience Him more intimately.

There is a word that echoes from Genesis to Revelation like a steady heartbeat, pulsing with the love of God. It shows up in covenants and crosses, in the lives of kings and prostitutes, in barren wilderness and broken hearts. That word is grace.

We all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another…  2 Corinthians 3:18

Have you ever walked past a beautiful tree in spring, lush with green leaves, swaying in the breeze, and thought it looked perfect from a distance? But then, when you got close, you realized it was empty. No fruit. No nourishment. Just leaves.

The Word of God is clear: when believers walk by the Spirit, the evidence of that relationship is fruit.

Key Verse:"Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruits." – Proverbs 18:21 (ESV)

Hey, sweet friends— Let’s take a moment to breathe. You’re here because you care about your walk with Jesus. You want to grow deeper, stand stronger, and live a life that truly reflects Him. I see you—and I want you to know, you’re not alone. I’m walking this journey too.

Sweet friend, have you ever faced something so big, so overwhelming, that you didn’t even know where to begin? One of those moments that leaves you whispering, “Lord, I don’t know how I’m going to get through this… but I’m choosing to trust You.” If that sounds familiar, you’re in good company. The Bible gives us precious examples of what to do in times just like this—and one of the most powerful is the story of King Jehoshaphat.

Do you sometimes feel overwhelmed by life's challenges? Distant from your spiritual peace? In these difficult times, prayer can be a comforting refuge and a powerful source of strength. I ask you to reflect: Have you been neglecting time with the Lord? Could reconnecting with Him through prayer bring you the solace and guidance you need?