Healing a Burned Soul

Shalom… and welcome. It has been over 100 posts since I welcomed people so I wanted to jump back. Not just to words on a page, but to something I believe the Lord Himself has breathed into existence. Before anything else is said, let this be clear—this space, these words, this story… none of it belongs to me. Every ounce of it is the Lord’s. Every piece of healing, every moment of endurance, every breath that carried me here is a testimony of His mercy, not my strength. For y

I am 1 week away from celebrating 23 years of being a survivor—and all that has been given through this journey. So for the next week, I’m honoring 23 groups of people who have carried pieces of this story with me. Maybe these are just my words—but if they echo something in your own life, share them with your people too. Whether you’ve survived something life-altering, or you’re simply surviving each day—this is for the ones who stood beside you. These will be raw. Honest. Gr

The fiddle starts as if it always knew The hour dusk would lean on windowpanes, And call the worn-out floor to wake again Beneath the weight of shoes that come and go. I take a hand—not new, not wholly known— But warm enough to trust a turning path. We move as though the music tells the truth Of where to step, though neither of us sees. A forward glide, a backstep just as sure, A pivot where the world could slip away— Yet doesn’t. Not if one still holds on fast, And listens c