For as long as I can remember, my grandmother spent every Thanksgiving and Christmas in the kitchen, baking pound cakes until she physically couldn’t anymore. It didn’t matter how many ingredients she had to buy, how tired she was, or how many pans she filled her mission stayed the same every year: everyone she loved would receive their own personal cake.

And she meant everyone.
She delivered cakes to people’s homes, to offices for entire staffs, to neighbors, friends, friends-of-friends anyone who had ever tasted her cake or heard about it. It didn’t matter who you were; if you were in her space at some point in time, she made sure you felt thought of, seen, and loved through that one simple, delicious gift.

Her pound cake isn’t just dessert.
It’s nostalgia.
It’s comfort.
It’s a reminder of her generosity and the way she poured love into everything she did. So many hearts and lives were touched by her kindness, and everyone who tasted her cake knew it wasn’t just baked it was crafted with love and intention.

In her final years, she battled pulmonary fibrosis, a progressive lung disease that causes scarring of the lung tissue and slowly makes it harder to breathe. Even as her body weakened and breathing became difficult, her spirit never did. She faced each day with the same grace and strength she lived her entire life with.

Eventually, her declining health took away her ability to continue baking but it never took away the joy she felt in sharing her pound cakes with the world. And though she passed before she could bake again, her recipe and her legacy will live on.

That’s why this year, in the season of gratitude, I’m choosing to honor her in the most meaningful way I can:
by sharing Ellen’s Pound Cake Delight with others just as she did.

A portion of every sale will go toward pulmonary fibrosis research, in hopes of supporting those walking the same journey she once walked. The rest will go toward continuing her tradition of gifting sweetness, comfort, and love to as many people as possible.

This isn’t just about selling a cake.
It’s about remembering her.
Honoring her.
And carrying forward the love she baked into every single slice.

Here’s to keeping her spirit alive

one pound cake at a time. 💛

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What I’m learning is that gratitude in a season of change isn’t about pretending everything feels perfect. It’s not forcing joy when your heart feels heavy or trying to rush ahead of what God is doing. Gratitude is simply choosing to recognize His hand in the small things when the big things feel uncertain. It’s waking up and saying, Lord, I don’t know where You’re taking me, but I trust You enough to thank You on the way.

Sometimes gratitude becomes our worship. Sometimes it’s the only way we keep our hearts from drifting into fear or frustration. And Scripture makes it clear: this kind of gratitude pleases the Lord. Not the polished version, not the “everything is fine” version… but the real, surrendered, faith-filled gratitude that rises from a heart that’s still learning to trust.

So, this season, instead of resisting the change, I’m choosing to lean into it. To look for the blessings hidden inside it. To thank God for doors that close, for new paths that feel unfamiliar, and for the peace that settles in when I stop trying to control everything.

Change might feel like loss, but sometimes it’s just God making room.
And gratitude quiet, steady gratitude is

how we honor Him while He does it.

If you’re walking through your own season of transition, I pray you feel the Lord’s nearness in every step. May your gratitude become your grounding. May your surrender become your strength. And may your heart remember: He is still good, He is still God, and He is still worthy of praise… even here.

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is. I’m learning to step back, to say no, to create distance when needed, and to follow the callings God has placed on my life. There are only a few months left in 2025, and I refuse to waste the time the Lord is using to prepare me. From this point forward, I want it to be clear to God that I am willing to surrender and trust that He will provide. As long as my faith remains, I know I will make it through anything the Lord allows in my life.

During this season of testing and walking in faith, I want to be as open and vulnerable as possible with the Lord and with the people who are pouring into my spiritual journey. This has been one of the most difficult years of my life full of transitions, employment changes, shifting friendships, and family members leaving this earth. Prayer has become a foundation for me, helping me stay focused on the hope of one day taking my seat at the right hand of Jesus and guiding me to approach every situation in a way that is pleasing to Him.

I choose kindness, and I choose to diffuse my anger through prayer praying daily for those who have wronged me, while constantly checking the posture of my heart to ensure selfish thoughts or desires aren’t taking over. It’s so easy to get caught in the “I want,” instead of praying for the “they need.” What I mean is that intercessory prayer must be my focus right now. I am on a journey, and this doesn’t mean I’m perfect it means I am striving to do better.

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When I look at the life of Jesus, I’m reminded that His kindness wasn’t reserved for the people who supported Him or understood Him. He extended kindness to people who doubted Him, ignored Him, betrayed Him, and misunderstood Him. That kind of kindness isn’t natural; it’s spiritual. Scripture tells us, “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God in Christ forgave you.” — Ephesians 4:32. That verse hits differently in seasons where kindness feels like a sacrifice instead of something that flows easily. But God doesn’t ask us to operate out of our own strength. He meets us in the places where our patience ends and fills the gap with His grace.

I’m learning that kindness isn’t just the big gestures or the obvious moments. It lives in the small, private places—our tone, our thoughts, the way we speak about people when they’re not there, the way we choose to respond when something pokes at our pride. Those are the moments that shape us the most. Those are the moments God uses to grow us. Kindness isn’t an act; it’s a posture of the heart.

We often treat kindness like something we put on when life feels smooth, but Scripture paints a different picture: “Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.” — Colossians 3:14. Clothe yourself. That means every day, intentionally, like something you choose to wear before stepping into the world. When kindness becomes part of our spiritual wardrobe, it becomes a habit instead of a highlight.

The more I walk this out, the more I realize kindness actually requires strength. It takes strength to stay gentle in harsh moments. It takes discipline to respond calmly when your emotions want to speak first. It takes courage to choose peace over pride. Choosing kindness doesn’t make you weak it means you’re operating in spiritual maturity. And when we do choose kindness, it shifts the atmosphere around us. It softens our hearts, grounds us, and aligns us with the character of Christ. People may not remember our exact words, but they remember how we made them feel. And as believers, we are called to make the world feel the love of Christ through our presence.

Kindness isn’t about perfection

it’s about intention. It’s about being mindful of the way we show up, both publicly and privately. Even in a world that rewards quick reactions and harsh responses, we are called to something gentler, something deeper, something holier. Kindness is the posture of Christ, and when we choose it daily, we become His reflection in places that desperately need it.

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I have lost a lot in the past year, but one thing that remained was my faith in Jesus. Was it perfect? Absolutely not. But I learned so much during this season of my life. I decided to rededicate my life to Christ, be baptized in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and found a church home that has both challenged me spiritually and supported me on my faith journey.

I feel so confident in the walk I’m on with Christ. I spend intentional time in the Word—following my Bible plan and focusing on what the scripture is actually teaching me rather than what I think it means. This learning process has been strengthened by taking a Lectio Divina course at my church, which has helped me slow down and truly meditate on the Word.

Something that has deeply helped me over the past few months has been changing the way I pray. I know prayer can feel intimidating, especially when you’re around someone who seems deeply rooted in their faith. However, their journey and story are not yours. Don’t place importance on how you pray place importance on connecting with the Lord in a way that feels most natural to you.

In my opinion, surrender can only be truly achieved when you let go of aesthetics and societal standards. Faith is often chaotic, and relationships are most authentic when you are raw and vulnerable. The Lord wants you to approach Him in those raw, vulnerable moments—but also in the moments when everything feels aligned. Keeping your faith consistent in both good and hard times proves that you are actively practicing what it means to surrender your entire life to the Lord.

You must continuously work toward surrender it doesn’t happen overnight, much like faith itself. You have to practice it and make it a priority rather than a “sometimes” activity.

My challenge to you: Surrender everything even the smallest things for the next 72 hours. Then, take note of how you feel compared to the times when you’ve allowed life to consume you.

Philippians 4:6–7 (NIV)

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

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Late at night, I pray harder than ever. It’s the only time of day I can step back, be still, and truly listen. I once came across someone online who said she hears the Lord most clearly right before she falls asleep and that resonated deeply. I realized that’s when I, too, feel the closest to Him. In those still, dark hours, it’s just me, the Lord, and my prayers and somehow, that simplicity feels like home.

No one else can see or hear these prayers, but I know I’m doing exactly what the Lord has placed on my heart. It’s comforting to fall asleep knowing I’ve covered others in prayer. My husband and I pray together before bed, but when I started taking that extra step covering friends, family, and even strangers I began to witness how faithfully the Lord moves.

We live in a world obsessed with visibility. Society praises the kind of faith that’s public and performative, but we often forget the quiet beauty of simply talking to God. Prayer is not a performance; it’s a conversation our one-on-one connection with our Father. And the world doesn’t get to decide what that looks like.

Sometimes I begin with “Dear Heavenly Father.” Other times, it’s “God, I need You.” And then there are moments when it’s simply, “Okay God, this isn’t formal I just need to talk.” Those are my favorite prayers, the ones that spill out like an unfiltered conversation with a friend.

Because, oh what a friend we have in Jesus.
This Thanksgiving, I’m especially grateful for all He has done, is doing, and will continue to do. The prayers I whispered in secret are the blessings I’m living in today.

Thank You, Jesus, for continuing to show up in marvelous ways.

Dear Father,

This is Your daughter, the one who has spent countless nights crying herself to sleep, wondering why she is the loving aunt and not the mother in her own story. I love so deeply and pour into the little lives that surround me, yet I am ridden with an empty womb.

I used to carry anger about it, but now I feel little twinges and pops in my belly while trying to conceive, and they give me the slightest hope in those moments — yet I still see a negative result. Why? Why? Why?

Lord, You know my heart. You know my desires. And most importantly, You have seen the disappointment in my eyes and mind. I have struggled with this for over a year, and it only seems to be getting worse. The results feel as though they will never come.

I watch others receive their positive results, develop little lives, and give birth. I know that in Scripture, Hannah ached for a child and continuously pleaded with You for one. You heard her cries and granted her that child in due time.

My prayers have been consistent about conception, and my husband has been alongside me through this journey. Yet my heart feels like it’s missing something so valuable, so important to me. I know this may seem selfish — and maybe that’s why I have not achieved it.

Ever since my grandmother left me, I have wondered many nights: had I tried sooner, and had she been here, would that little life have taken the place of hers in this world?

Lord, writing this brings me some peace, but I mainly feel sadness in my heart. Please remove the spirit of infertility, PCOS, the empty womb, and anything else preventing me from being a mother.

I surrender it all to You and will continue to seek Your guidance during this time.

Amen

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Twenty-four is such a strange time to be alive. I’m six years past being eighteen and six years away from turning thirty. How odd, don’t you think?

Here’s what I’ve learned so far at this age nothing.
Okay, that’s not entirely true. I’ve learned quite a bit.

This season of my life has become one where I deeply desire relationships that are intentional, kingdom-led, and most importantly, equally yoked. If you’re not a Christ follower, those words equally yoked and kingdom-led might sound like confusing jargon, but I hope you’ll keep reading and see what they mean to me.

Since entering my twenty-fourth year, I’ve become invested in self-discovery and growth. I want to become the best version of myself

for myself. That might look different for everyone, but for me, it means seeking the Lord in every area of my life.

I’ve always struggled to find genuine friendships and to know when I’m “too much.” I’ve often felt like an outsider, even within my own family. That may be hard to read, but it’s my truth. My family is spread across multiple states, and if I didn’t initiate the conversations, I’m not sure we’d ever speak.

Being twenty-four has taught me valuable lessons about who I am and who I’m becoming. It’s taught me that the hardest conversations aren’t nearly as scary as I once thought. It’s shown me that God is in control and no matter how much I plan, He will unplan.

Lately, I’ve noticed myself becoming the advice-giver the one who gives 200% of myself to others while neglecting my own needs. I’ve drifted into a routine that feels mundane, one that doesn’t fully satisfy the lifelong hopes and dreams I once held. But even in this in-between season, I know the Lord is preparing me for the purpose He’s set before me.

It isn’t easy staying positive. Some nights and even some days I cry, wondering what life might have been like had I made different choices. But then I remind myself: God makes no mistakes.

Moving forward, my hope is to discover who I truly am in Christ and to make that identity my foundation. Until then, I’ll sit back, breathe, and let the Lord continue to work on me right here in the middle of twenty-four.

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Until this year (2025), I had no real understanding of what “walk by faith and not by sight” truly meant. Little did I know that an explanation like no other was about to hit me like a truck.

I lost everything I thought I deserved or was owed by the world. That mindset right there is exactly why the Lord humbled me. I had spent the majority of my life walking around thinking the world was mine and everyone else was just living in it. Before you say it, I know that’s not only ignorant but selfish as well. The consequences of this attitude came down like a hammer in a courtroom fast, hard, and full of lessons that only the ultimate Teacher could drill into me with a lasting impact.

One evening, I sat down in my living room, looking back over my life with tears in my eyes and quickly realizing how much emphasis I had placed on this broken world spending time chasing status and recognition rather than building a relationship with the King. Saying these things out loud isn’t easy, but my Bible study group, Daughters of Grace, gave me the confidence to face things head-on. Seeing young women from all walks of life get back up after being knocked down is a powerful thing.

Most of my college years were spent worrying about who I would marry, whether my friends would still be around in a decade, and other frivolous details that no longer matter. Looking back now, as a newly baptized babe in Christ (for the second time I’ll explain this in another post), I can see how lost I was. Much of the guidance I had came from afar, and I wish I’d had better groups of people or mentorship opportunities to lean on in close proximity of my college.

Post-college, I’ve found a solid group of friends who stand by me through thick and thin. I’ve found joy in serving in the church and building a foundation for my husband and me as we continue to navigate marriage.

Immature, walk-by-sight me would say that I’ve grown soft and become a “Jesus thumper,” as we used to call them in college. But mature, faith-filled me sees this growth as an opportunity to pour into myself and others the way I wish someone had poured into me.

I find myself giving advice, praying, and letting the Lord lead daily. Getting to this point once felt impossible, but now that I’m here, it’s clear how valuable a life walking by faith and not by sight truly is.

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Growing up, I often heard people describe their wives as their missing rib. At the time, I wasn’t mature enough in my faith to understand the true meaning behind that statement. I knew it was biblical, but I didn’t grasp the weight or power it carried until I met the one the Lord handcrafted just for me, right when I least expected it.

I’ll spare you the lovey-dovey details of how I met my husband but just know I knew he was the one from our very first conversation. I had prayed for a man who would challenge me intellectually, protect me when times were tough, and grow with me in both faith and life. The Lord has a way of answering prayers, but with His own divine twist and that’s exactly what He did.

I’ve been a believer since I was young, having attended many churches of varying denominations over the years ranging from Methodist, Baptist, Pentecostal, and now Nondenominational. But one truth always remained the same: this idea that a woman is man’s missing rib.

It wasn’t until early 2025, in my twenty-fourth year of life, that I truly understood the phrase “I am your missing rib.”

One Sunday after church, my husband and I were having one of our usual deep conversations about the message. This particular Sunday our pastor had preached a message titled “Recognize & Avoid,” teaching that recognition leads to realization. During our discussion, I found myself repeating his encouragement to “cling to the Word of God.” Shortly before this specific Sunday, I had made it a point to start reading my Bible more and spending time understanding the word. Which made this message even clearer to me than I would realize.

As the conversation progressed, I referenced Adam and Eve several times. When I mentioned how God took Adam’s rib to create Eve (Genesis 2:21–23), I suddenly recognized the meaning was something deeper than just a thing that only God had the capability of doing. In that moment it clicked that when a man and woman are joined together by God, that rib is no longer missing.

That realization stayed with me for days. Every conversation with my married friends, single friends, and mentors seemed to lead back to this revelation. I knew the Lord was showing me that the very scriptures I’d read over and over were coming alive in a new way. The confusion that had once clouded my faith was being replaced with understanding and peace. “For God is not the author of confusion, but of peace.” (1 Corinthians 14:33)

Now, whenever the enemy tries to plant doubt in my mind or whispers that I’m not a good wife or the best partner I remind myself: I am my husband’s missing rib. I think about the strength and courage it takes for him to wake up every day and lead our home, to provide and protect us. And I remember the responsibility I have as his wife to support him not only in life, but in his walk with Christ. “Two are better than one… if either of them falls, one can help the other up.” (Ecclesiastes 4:9–10)

Eve was created because “it is not good that man should be alone.” (Genesis 2:18) And that truth still stands today. As wives, we are called to be our husbands’ helpers, encouragers, and prayer warriors. We are the living reminder of God’s divine design two becoming one flesh. “Therefore, a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.” (Genesis 2:24)

When I reflect on that truth, I can’t help but stand in awe. If God can weave together such intimate details from creation itself and apply them to our modern lives how could anyone doubt that Jesus is real? His Word is alive and active, even in the smallest revelations.

What an awesome God we serve!

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Over the past few years, I’ve found myself struggling to belong within the workforce. I have so many different talents and passions that it’s hard to fit them all into a single role. I know that might sound like an excuse to avoid working but it’s not that at all. It’s simply me realizing it was time to step out in faith and let the Lord lead me to my next purpose.

That’s when my spark for business ownership truly ignited.

I started out selling handmade glass tumblers and later launched an online store. Both ventures failed, and I felt discouraged. But after several months of prayer and reflection, I felt that familiar nudge to try again.

One weekday afternoon, sitting in a cozy café with a friend, the idea struck why not use my talents in social media management?

At first, I was nervous. Without my college network, I worried about how to find clients or how I’d appear to more seasoned business owners. But after prayer, a charcuterie board, and some color palettes that spoke to my creative side, Content Bloom Collective LLC was born.

I spent countless nights dreaming about what my company would offer and how it could stand apart from large mainstream agencies. Soon after launching, the Lord placed my first two clients directly in my path and that’s when things began to bloom.

Networking events, collaborations with strong women-owned businesses, and opportunities I’d never imagined started coming my way. I learned quickly that I thrive most when prayer anchors every decision both at the start and end of my day.

There are still moments when my focus drifts or creativity runs dry. In those times, I pause and pray: Lord, help me get back on track. Guide me in the right direction for this client.

Like any entrepreneur, I’ve had partnerships end and faced challenges I didn’t anticipate but every lesson has helped shape me into a stronger business owner. Growth, after all, comes from grace and grit.

Each day, I learn new ways to improve myself and my business and that’s what I consider my greatest strength.

Being your own boss isn’t just a catchy phrase. It’s a bold statement of faith a reminder to take charge of your life and understand that failure often comes before success.

This journey has been more fulfilling than words can express, and I’m excited to see where the future leads.

If you take nothing else from my story, I hope you remember this:
Become the Boss of Your Life with Jesus by your side.

xoxo,
Destiny
CEO & Founder, Content Bloom Collective LLC

Before I was as immersed in prayer as I am today, I built a habit with my husband. This set the foundation for a much larger plan that the Lord was about to put in motion. Each night we do devotionals and what I like to call popcorn prayer. Whoever reads the devotional will pray the following night, and vice versa. This has held us both accountable for prayer time while also allowing us to cover various topics together.

Because “where two or three are gathered together in My name, there am I in the midst of them.” — Matthew 18:20 (KJV)
I know that the Lord hears me during my silent prayers, but the weight that is lifted off of my shoulders when I speak the things I’m praying for out into the air is so much more rewarding.

There have been numerous days when I’ve been in my home worshipping the Lord to a song and immediately pressed pause to cover my home in prayer. Tears flowing, sometimes screaming at the top of my lungs being the most vulnerable I have ever been before the Lord. Breaking down every barrier that once held me back from praying in such an unapologetic manner. These moments have become more frequent in my life as the trials and tribulations of adulthood have entered in waves.

Discovering my purpose and the gift of prayer that I’ve been given amazes me each day. God had a plan to use the very thing that once created fear for His good as He does with all things. Just two short months ago, I joined the prayer team at my new church and have been praying aloud, covering others’ requests, but most importantly, prioritizing prayer in my home life now more than ever. I credit the intentional time I’ve taken to pray to my discipline in completing the Lectio Divina course by Pete Greig.

During this course, I’ve learned to pause three different times a day to pray and simply listen to the Lord. Oftentimes, life moves so fast that I can’t hear what He has for me. During moments of frustration and uncertainty, these pauses take my chaotic thoughts and refocus them, allowing peace to return to every area of my life.

2025 has been one of the most challenging years of my life as I’ve faced death, faith struggles, loss, and rebuilding in many areas. Yet through it all, I’ve grown stronger in my faith and continue to lean into the conversational aspect of my relationship with God through prayer each day.

It was Sunday July 14, 2024—a day that will forever be etched in my brain. This is the day of the week my husband and I typically clean our home and reset for the week ahead to prepare our space for whatever the week coming may bring. Little did we know that the week coming would be the most challenging for our marriage. While cleaning my mother FaceTimed me as she usually would—nothing out of the ordinary. I did find it odd that grangran hadn’t called me yet today as she normally would be up and moving for the day by now. While cleaning the bathroom I took a brief pause and realized that my phone had six missed calls from my mother. This was no butt dial or accident. I immediately called back and in my heart I felt like a piece had just chipped away after she answered on the second ring.

My mother and I had been planning to go see grangran that day to surprise her with a girls-only lunch date. However, when my mother answered the phone she asked, “Have you spoken to grangran today?” I replied with, “Not yet.” She then asked where my husband was and I called him into the kitchen to be a part of the conversation. She briefly looked away from the camera and I instantly could tell that this was the call… Tears began to well up in her eyes and she said the words, “Grangran is gone.” Instantly my knees collapsed from under me and I let out an earth-shattering screech. I couldn’t catch my breath, I couldn’t see straight, and my mother begged my husband to get me off the floor and force me to breathe. The only words I could say were, “We have to go right now. I need to get to her. I need to get to her. She needs me.” I knew there was nothing I could do, but my mind and heart felt comfort in being able to get to her. We didn’t pack a single thing we needed. I grabbed a spoon—yes, a spoon from my kitchen drawer—and headed out to the car. I could not tell you what I thought the spoon would do for me in this moment. I think the shock was just consuming me.

We of course live three hours away, so I spent most of the car ride hysterical and in disbelief. But what hurt me the most was making the phone call to her best friend, who was not yet informed that she had left us so soon. I remember so clearly that her best friend mentioned the last thing she said to her was that she wanted to stick around to come to my wedding and see us have our first child. That Sunday my husband and I were going to surprise her and let her know that we eloped and got married on July 12, 2024. As you can imagine, this entire scenario tore me to pieces. She is and always will be my best friend.

After spending several days in my childhood town, my husband had to return back to work. I stayed behind to sort things out with family and also say my final goodbye…

The last thing I said to her before I never saw her again is, “Well done faithful servant. I will handle it from here.” I think about that moment day and night. I think about just how beautiful she was and always will be in my mind. Forever and always an angel on earth and in heaven. Farewell for now and I’ll See you later, I love you and always have your back like you had mine!

Fast forward to the end of 2024 I experienced church hurt for the very first time and didn’t know if my emotional and mental health would ever recover. A very dark time fell on my life, and the enemy was attacking me in full force. I did what I believed was the answer: I ran to the church. But my church ran away from me with little to no explanation and clear judgment in their hearts. Jesus forgave everyone’s sins, and I don’t know about you, but I have always been told to live like Jesus. So, you can imagine my surprise when the church was doing the exact opposite.

I took a step back, shared my hurt and fears with my husband, and retreated back to online church in the safety and comfort of my living room. I began worship sessions in the middle of the night, knelt before the Lord in silence, and prayed. Prayer in the morning, the evening, and all throughout the day became my lifestyle dare I say, a small obsession. I consumed scripture as often as I could, thinking I was “hearing God” when in reality I was trying to fill the church-sized void in my life.

2025 approached rather quickly. One Sunday morning, during online church, sitting on the couch with my coffee, I looked at my husband and said, “Let’s find a new church home.” The next week, we visited a church I once frequented. I felt fine in the congregation a little off, but not uncomfortable or turned away like before. We gave it a chance for a few more weeks, but something didn’t feel like the perfect fit.

I continued to pray on the situation, waiting for God to move and guide us to the right space. Sure enough, we stayed home, watched online church, and agreed that the church we had chosen wasn’t for us. I suggested another church we had visited once before for our nephew’s baptism as an option for the upcoming Sunday. My husband was on board. We showed up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 9:45 a.m. to attend service. We sat closer to the back, listened, and absorbed the message. Afterward, my husband expressed that he loved the pastor’s teaching style. Coming from a non-believer, I knew this was the place for us.

Several weeks went by. After service one Sunday, I asked my husband if he’d like a Bible of his own to carry each week. We turned it into an after-church date and headed to Barnes & Noble. Sitting in the Bible aisle, flipping through different translations, we both picked out new Bibles to commemorate the moment and take a step forward in our newfound faith journey and church home.

A couple more Sundays passed, and the church encouraged us to get connected and find our people and groups which is exactly what I did. I am now affiliated with the prayer ministry and recently got to experience my first 24-hour prayer for Global Week of Prayer. That was an incredible experience in itself. Just two short weeks later, the tug on my heart for baptism arose once more. I took the leap to trust God even more than I already had since He had been so faithful in directing us to this church home.

I was baptized at the end of a service with my husband by my side. Yes, this was the second time I made this outward display of my faith, but it was the first time I felt truly in tune with Jesus. Ever since being baptized, I find myself convicted, prioritizing prayer, and striving to live more like Jesus while also being a godly wife, friend, daughter, and hopefully someday, mother, if that is God’s plan for me.

My faith journey is just beginning. What does yours look like?

It was 2020, and my college journey was starting over for the second time. I couldn’t figure out which major resonated with me the most, and at the time, I was focused on becoming an athletic trainer. However, a professor of mine had other thoughts about my path in higher education. Her exact words were: “You don’t belong in college. Give up while you are ahead.”

From the moment those words appeared on my laptop screen to the moment I copied and pasted them to my mother, I knew a flame had been lit underneath me. Little did I know that flame would be the very thing that motivated me to succeed.

Soon after leaving that college and working for a brief time, God sent two individuals my way to confirm what my next steps in life should look like. One summer evening in central Virginia, I stood ready to quit, go back home, and accept defeat when two eager souls burst through the Sweet Frog doors five minutes before closing. The young lady and her gentleman friend wanted a sweet treat to celebrate their joint decision to drop out of college. At the time, I thought nothing of it and continued my closing duties. Shortly after, the girl asked me, “Why are you so sad in such a sweet place?”

I expressed my desire to move back home and give up on college. Because of their own recent decision, they encouraged me to do the same. But then the gentleman paused, looked at the young lady, and as if God Himself spoke through them, they offered to pray for me. Growing up in the church, I didn’t find this odd, so I accepted. After the unified “Amen,” tears formed in all of our eyes.

When I asked where they had previously been enrolled, they said Liberty University. My heart sank. At my previous school, I had heard so many rumors and whispers about Liberty that I thought it wouldn’t be the right fit for me. Even though I deflected their comments about applying in the moment, that same evening I applied, and the very next day I received an acceptance email. God has a funny way of unplanning your plans.

From that day forward, I became a Liberty Flame! Tattooed on my arm to this day is a quote I thought about day and night after meeting those two people: “I created my own sunshine out of the flames that you gave me.” I now know that those flames led me to a much bigger purpose the Lord wanted me to fulfill.

I went on to graduate Magna Cum Laude with a Bachelor of Science degree in Strategic Communication. I became the secretary of Lambda Pi Eta, the honor society in my major. I mentored young athletes through my cheerleading coaching. Most importantly, I proved to myself that I did belong in higher education, just not at a college. I belonged in a University!