Parts one and two reflected God’s love and the lessons it has taught me along the way—truths carved into my life in quiet moments, in painful seasons, and in the spaces where I could only pray and trust. This final part is where those lessons settled into my bones. These are not theories or ideals—they are lived realities. They are what remained after the dust settled, after the wounds began to scar, and after I realized that survival was no longer the goal—living was.
I pray these lessons help ground you as well, and that they invite you to reflect on your own journey. While these are the final lessons for now, as long as there is breath in my lungs, I will continue to learn, to grow, and to become. Take them in grace—I am still learning, still growing, still becoming.
Recap so far:
1. Treasure every moment—big or small
2. Not every good opportunity is obedience
3. Pain is not proof that God is absent
4. Gratitude is a form of seeing
5. God does not ask us to earn His approval
6. Letting go is sometimes an act of faith
7. The past holds wisdom the present often forgets
8. Small victories are still victories
9. Rest is holy resistance
10. Truth without love is noise
11. Waiting is not wasted time
12. Comparison steals joy
13. Forgive quickly and fully
14. Grief is allowed—no matter what it is
15. Don’t fear change
16. Your voice matters
17. You can step out of survival mode
18. You are never alone
19. You are allowed
20. You can be strong and weak all at once
21. Healing is not linear
I used to believe healing meant reaching a finish line—a place where the pain no longer surfaced, where my body and mind were finally “fixed,” and the past stayed buried. I know now that healing is learning how to live *with* the pain when it shows up, without letting it define you.
As a survivor of a burn, sexual assault, self-harm, suicidal behaviors, and mental illness, pain has been a constant companion. For a long time, it dictated every decision I made. But it doesn’t have that power anymore.
Some days, the pain roars—an eight or nine out of ten—but I still show up, breathe, and live. No one would ever know. Other days, I forget entirely that the trauma ever existed. Both days are real. Both are part of healing.
Some days you’ll feel grounded and at peace. Other days, old wounds will resurface without warning. That doesn’t erase your progress—it reveals how deeply you’ve lived. God does not measure healing by how little you hurt, but by how faithfully you bring your pain back to Him, again and again.
22. Blessings are abundant
We are more blessed than we realize.
Yes—even you who feel like you have nothing.
Yes—even you who feel like life is a constant struggle.
I am blessed with friends who love me, a family who supports me, a church family who walks with me, a home, a car, food to eat, clothes to wear, air to breathe. None of it was guaranteed. None of it was owed to me. And yet—I am here. Blessings don’t disappear because life is hard. Sometimes, they shine brightest *within* the hardship. When you slow down and notice them, gratitude transforms your perspective and softens your soul.
23. Being crazy and wild is okay
I am wild. I am goofy. I am a kid at heart—and I refuse to apologize for it. I may grow older, but I don’t have to “grow up” in the sense of losing wonder. I love jumping into laughter, play, and joy. I love bold hair, fun outfits, expressive glasses. Joy has always been a language my soul speaks fluently.
But I’ve also learned when to be serious, when to sit in silence, when to hold space for weighty moments. Balance matters. Don’t make life so stoic that you lose joy—but don’t be so wild that you miss sacred, sensitive moments. Both are holy. Both belong.
24. Give more love than ever before
This world is hurting. People are exhausted, broken, and battling battles we cannot see. So give more love.
Free hugs. A smile. A high five. A kind word. A compliment to a stranger. Love doesn’t have to cost money—but sometimes, it does, and that’s okay. Buy the coffee. Help someone with groceries. Show up when it’s inconvenient. Love is never wasted. It multiplies quietly. And right now, the world desperately needs more of it.
25. Find your people—and connect intentionally
For years, I struggled to find where I belonged. I tried theater because that’s where friends were. I tried sports because friendship felt automatic. Neither fully worked. It wasn’t until I found my people here in Pennsylvania that I learned what real connection feels like. It’s inviting someone over for a game night just to laugh. It’s late-night conversations that wander everywhere and nowhere. It’s texts and calls that say, “I need help,” or simply, “I’m thinking of you.”
Intentional connection is purposeful living. Tonight, a mentor and friend told me I could come over if birthday plans fell through—just in case. That’s real connection. Being present in the dark and rejoicing in the light. Never underestimate the power of finding your people and choosing them—again and again.
26. God has been so, so good—even when I couldn’t see it
This is my favorite lesson.
Even on days I can barely move.
Even on days I dislike myself or the world.
Even on days that feel impossible.
God has been good. I can count my blessings. I can see His favor. I can breathe. I can love. I am alive—and that alone is a miracle. It’s amazing what God reveals when you stop striving and begin noticing. He has been faithful even when I couldn’t see it. There is always goodness. There is always love. There is always joy—even in the dark. And there is more than we can ever imagine. Share it. Spread it. Let it move through you, because the world needs it now more than ever.
And with that, I gently close the chapter of 26.
Not because everything is finished or figured out—but because it’s time to step forward. These lessons have shaped me, steadied me, and carried me through. I don’t need to reread this chapter to stay here. I’ve lived it. I’ve learned it. I’m grateful for every person who has come into my life; you have left marks on these pages, and I hope you continue into the future chapters with me.
Now I turn the page—rooted, wiser, softer, and ready.
Here’s to stepping into what comes next: a new year, a new chapter, a new story—written in grace, hope, and love. I am ready to live it fully.