Healing a Burned Soul

There is something sacred about a voice. Not the polished kind that fills auditoriums. Not the kind that trends or echoes across platforms or becomes a faded audio file. But the trembling, ordinary, human voice—the one that cracks when it tells the truth. The one that whispers and yells. The one that changes in the moment. Your voice carries more power than you think. Every word you speak carries power—more than you may ever realize. Every whisper, every pause, every tremblin

Dear Friend, This weekend, I found myself at a 1940s dance in Gettysburg with a group of friends. We dressed in the style of the era—polished shoes, pressed dresses, crisp suits—and danced to music that once carried people through war, uncertainty, and long nights of waiting for news from the front. We laughed like we had no troubles at all, yet all around us, history whispered its weight. The machines that once carried soldiers, the stories tucked into every tune, the air it

This is my why. People ask me, “Why are you so passionate about helping others?” This is the answer. That little girl in the photo is me — little Kelsay. Smiling. Bright. Full of wonder. Carrying more pain than most could imagine, yet still choosing joy. Even then, God was writing a story I didn’t yet understand — forming purpose from pain, calling light out of ashes. Tonight, the pain was loud. My leg burned down into my toes, the nerves beneath my scars screaming like fire.