Are you more attached to obedience… or to a particular outcome?

If we’re honest, most of us are more concerned with outcomes than obedience.

We want to trust God.

But we also want things to turn out a certain way.

There is a small group of believers who get to this place.

Where they’ve said yes to God in a deeper way.

Where they’ve obeyed when it didn’t make sense.

Where they’ve taken the leap.

And surprisingly, this can become one of the hardest seasons of trust to navigate.

Because in our minds, once we finally obey…

things should start to come together.

Clarity should increase.
Momentum should build.
Results should follow.

But what happens when they don’t?

That’s when the real questions begin.

Did I hear God wrong?
Was I supposed to do this?
Do I go back?
Did I make a mistake?

Everything slows down.

The pace changes.

Priorities shift.

And if you’re honest…

you can feel like you’re losing your footing.

Obedience Over Outcomes

One of the deepest shifts in trusting God is learning this:

Obedience is not tied to outcomes.

You can obey God…

and still not see immediate results.

You can say yes…

and still find yourself in a season that feels unclear.

Because God is more committed to your development…

than your desired outcome.

He will grow you before He grows anything connected to you.

Before the career.
Before the business.
Before the ministry.

So the real question becomes:

Are you saying yes because of what He can do?

Or because of who He is?

The Test of Trust

There are two layers to this kind of trust.

The first is your willingness to sacrifice for the promise.

God will often show you what He intends to do in your life.

But He will not always show you how or when.

And trusting Him with the timeline can be one of the hardest parts.

Especially when you’ve been diligent.
Especially when you’ve seen success before.

Because in this season, God often asks for something different.

More time with Him.
More surrender.
Less striving.

The second layer is even deeper.

Your willingness to sacrifice the promise.

There are times when God will ask you to release the very thing He told you to build.

The very thing that feels aligned.
Fruitful.
Significant.

And that’s where trust is refined.

Abraham as an Example

We see both of these layers in the life of Abraham.

He was called to leave everything familiar and go to a place God would show him (Genesis 12:1).

And he went.

But along the way, we also see how difficult it is to trust God fully.

He tried to help fulfill the promise in his own way.

He struggled with the timeline.

And eventually, he was asked to place the very promise God gave him on the altar.

Not because God intended to take it away.

But because God was after something deeper.

Complete trust.

God’s Process

If you’re anything like me, your natural inclination is to think about what you can produce.

What you can build.
What you can make happen.

But lately, my prayer has shifted.

Instead of asking:

“What do You want me to do?”

I’ve been asking:

“What do You want to deal with in me?”

Because trusting God is not just about where He is taking you.

It’s about who you are becoming along the way.

What God May Be Doing in You

In these seasons, there are patterns.

God is often developing:

• Dependence on Him, not your own ability

• A deeper desire for His will

• Gratitude

• Spiritual clarity and discernment

And at the same time, He is uprooting:

• Control

• A worldly mindset

• Subtle idols

• Unhealthy attachments to outcomes

A Final Thought

Trusting God is not proven in one big moment.

It’s proven in what you do after the moment.

After the leap.
After the yes.
After the decision.

It’s built in the quiet.

In the waiting.

In the unknown that doesn’t resolve right away.

And sometimes trusting God looks like this:

Continuing to walk with Him…

even when nothing around you looks the way you expected.

Question for Reflection

Are you more attached to obedience…

or to a particular outcome?

Many of us who feel stagnant, restless, and unfulfilled are not lacking discipline.

Some of you already know what God is asking you to do.
You just haven’t moved yet.

We are being invited into a deeper level of spiritual maturity.

And this level is not comfortable.
It’s not always sensible.
And it rarely feels logical.

It requires you to move beyond your natural reasoning.
To push past the opinions of others.
And sometimes, to release the very things you’ve worked and prayed for… to follow God.

If I’m honest, many believers never move past this stage.

For some, it’s a lack of trust.
Control and fear quietly take over.

For others, it’s a lack of context.
We understand the words of God, but not the ways of God.

We don’t always understand what spiritual maturation looks like… or how God develops us for what we’re called to do.

And for some, it’s the lack of counsel and community.

Because it’s hard to find people who have actually walked this journey out.

The Reality of Trust

You can’t fully trust someone you don’t know.

And it’s difficult to trust someone if you don’t believe they truly know you.

Trust is built over time.
Through vulnerability.
Through intentional relationship.

For years, I knew of God.

I heard about Him in church.
I read stories in the Bible.

But I didn’t know Him personally.

And if I’m honest, I wasn’t fully convinced that He knew me either.

That He saw me.
That He loved me.
That He had a unique path for my life.

I thought purpose was reserved for “certain” people.

But there was still something in me that was curious.

I wanted to understand God.

And what I’ve come to realize is this:

My pursuit of God created space for me to recognize His pursuit of me.

What It Looked Like for Me

At some point, following God becomes personal.

Not theoretical.
Not conceptual.
But real.

I remember a moment years ago when I heard the Lord very clearly.

He spoke two things to me.

The first aligned with my interests and felt affirming. I was excited.

The second made absolutely no sense.

“You’re going to help women get out of bondage and help launch them into destiny.”

At the time, that didn’t match my reality at all.

I was a church misfit who loved God deeply, but struggled to understand church culture, systems, and structure.

I was navigating life as a divorced, single mother with two young boys, just trying to make it through each day.

So naturally, I tried to interpret what God said through a practical lens.

Maybe I would lead a women’s Bible study one day.
Maybe this would show up in some familiar way.

But what I’ve come to understand is this:

God was not giving me a task.

He was revealing how He made me… and how I would move in the world.

Specific assignments would come later.

The Dangerous Pursuit of God

Shortly after that moment, God asked me to do something that made no sense.

To leave everything I knew.
To go against logic.
To move without guarantees.

“By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going.”— Hebrews 11:8

To relocate from Maryland to Florida.

During COVID.
With two young boys.
Without a job or established community.

If you want a deeper look at what that season actually looked like for me, I wrote about it here:
I quit my life and moved to the beach

And I did.

From the outside, it looked risky.

But internally, I had never felt more settled.

More secure.

More aligned in my relationship with God than I ever had before.

And that’s when I began to understand something:

Following God will cost you something.

When I listen to the stories of others, I often find myself tracing the hand of God.

And there is always a moment—

A defining moment—

where they had to choose God in a way they never had before.

And it was costly.

Money.
Reputation.
Comfort.
Friendships.
Career.

One pattern I’ve noticed is the timing of this kind of faith.

It often comes after you’ve built something.

After you’ve achieved something.

After you’ve become comfortable.

And then God asks you to release it.

Not to punish you.

But to refine you.

To reposition you.

To lead you into something you could not reach by staying where you are.

Why Many of Us Don’t Leap

If we’re honest, many of us don’t leap because we prefer comfort and control.

You’ve thought about it.
You’ve prayed about it.
You’ve even felt a quiet nudge more than once.

But you’re still waiting for clarity you may never fully get.

We want guarantees before we act.

We want to understand how everything will work out before we say yes.

But faith doesn’t work that way.

What once felt like safety… can quietly become stagnation.

And over time, staying in places that feel safe but are no longer aligned begins to cost us.

Not always externally.
But internally.

For many, that cost shows up in one of two ways:

Despair
A loss of hope.
A sense that nothing will change.
A quiet feeling of helplessness.

Elijah asked God to take his life (1 Kings 19:4).
Job said his spirit was broken (Job 17:1).

And then there is…

Deep Disenchantment

A loss of meaning.
A quiet detachment.
A sense that the things that once mattered… no longer do.

You’re going through the motions.

But something feels off.
Something feels disconnected.

In both of these places, something important is happening.

You are being confronted with your limits.
Your inability to control outcomes.

And while that can feel unsettling…

it can also become the very place where real faith begins.

Faith Requires More Than Belief

Many of us pray.

And prayer is important.

But prayer alone is not the full expression of faith.

Faith is belief…

and action.

“Faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.”— James 2:17

What you do after you pray matters.

Obedience is often the bridge between what God has spoken…

and what you will experience.

And sometimes the very thing you are waiting for on the other side of prayer…

is waiting on your movement.

A Final Thought

If you’re honest, there may be something God has been prompting you to do.

A step you’ve been avoiding.
A decision you’ve been delaying.

Not because you don’t believe God…

but because you don’t fully understand what will happen next.

That tension is real.

But faith rarely comes with full clarity.

Sometimes trusting God looks like this:

Taking the next step…

before you have the full picture.

At some point, trust requires movement.

Question for Reflection

Is there something in your life that you sense God is asking you to do—but you’ve been hesitant to move on?

What would it look like to take one step forward in faith?

In the first post in this series, we talked about trusting God when life takes a turn we never expected.

A diagnosis.
A betrayal.
A loss.

But there is another kind of unknown many of us quietly wrestle with.

Not the sudden tragedy.

But the slow realization that the life we imagined didn’t unfold the way we thought it would.

The relationship you prayed for.
The career you worked tirelessly to build.
The life you carefully planned.

Sometimes the hardest moments in life aren’t explosive.

Sometimes they are quiet.

They arrive slowly.

And one day you realize:

This isn’t the life I thought I would have.

That realization carries its own kind of grief.

Not just because something painful happened.

But because something you hoped for never came.

Godly Desires Don’t Always Mean Guaranteed Outcomes

One of the hardest spiritual lessons many of us learn is this:

You can have a godly desire that is not necessarily God’s specific will for your life.

Desiring marriage is good.
Desiring meaningful work is good.
Desiring a fruitful family is good.

But a desire being good does not always mean it will unfold exactly the way we imagined.

Sometimes we quietly assume that if something is good — and if we pray about it and work toward it faithfully — then God will surely bring it to pass.

But life doesn’t always unfold that way.

And when it doesn’t, it can shake our faith.

Over the past two to three years, this has been a personal revelation for me.

I’ve obtained things I asked for, worked for, and prayed for — only to realize they were actually not for me.

God never told me those things were for me.

I assumed.

Many of us make assumptions about our lives rather than asking God about His specific will for us.

What I’ve also experienced is that God has given me things I never even asked for—things I can now see were His will.

That realization has been deeply humbling.

Because it reminds me that God knows what is best for us far better than we do ourselves.

Two scriptures have come alive for me in this season:

“Many are the plans in a person’s heart,
but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.”
— Proverbs 19:21

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding.”
— Proverbs 3:5

Some Desires Involve Other People’s Choices

There is another layer to this that we don’t talk about often.

Some of the desires we carry involve the cooperation of other people.

Friendships.
Marriage.
Partnership.
Even family dynamics.

These things are not controlled by our faithfulness alone.

They involve the free will, healing, maturity, and choices of other people.

Which means sometimes a godly desire remains unfulfilled not because it was wrong…but because it required the cooperation of people who were not able or willing to walk in that direction.

That realization can be painful.

But it can also release us from unnecessary shame or feelings of failure.

Relational wounds are especially challenging because we often don’t see the depth of what others are carrying or what continues to trigger them.

But one thing I’ve learned is that God cares deeply for the hearts of His daughters.

While God cannot override another person’s free will, I’ve watched Him send others into my life to fill gaps in my heart in unexpected ways.

Wrestling With What We Don’t Know

There will always be parts of life we do not understand.

When.
How.
Why.

But one of the quiet invitations in seasons like this is learning not to become stuck in the suffering.

Because the enemy is very comfortable using unresolved pain to keep us frozen.

When we stay stuck in the question why, we can sometimes miss what God is doing right in front of us.

Trusting God in these seasons doesn’t mean pretending the hurt, frustration, or disappointment isn’t real.

It means acknowledging the pain honestly while continuing to move forward with God.

One day at a time.

Maximizing what is in front of us.

Remaining open to the possibility that God is still writing a story we cannot yet see.

Recently I’ve been tracing some of my own “trust God” moments over the years.

Looking back now, I can see places where God was working all along, even when I couldn’t see it at the time.

And that realization has filled my heart with gratitude.

Sometimes trusting God looks like continuing to walk with Him… even when life didn’t turn out the way you hoped.

Question for Reflection

Is there something in your life that you deeply desired, prayed for, and worked toward that didn’t happen?

How did that experience shape your relationship with God?

Sometimes the moments that deepen our faith the most are the ones we never would have chosen.

Trusting God in the unknown is easy to talk about in theory.

It becomes much harder when life takes a turn you never expected.

This was a reader-requested series, and I’ve been thinking and praying about how to approach it honestly.

Because the truth is, I’m not writing this as someone who has everything figured out.

I’m writing as someone who has had to learn what trusting God really looks like when life doesn’t unfold the way you thought it would.

If I’m honest, for much of my earlier life, I would have described myself as Christian-ish.

I believed in God.
I went to church.
Faith was part of my life.

But a deep, personal relationship with Christ, where He was truly the center of my life, just wasn’t there yet.

Life was moving along in a direction that felt stable and predictable.

And then my marriage began to fall apart.

At the time, I was desperate to save it. I prayed harder than I ever had before. I sought counsel. I cried out to God in ways I never had.

My prayer was simple:

God, please fix this.

But what I didn’t realize at that moment was that while I was trying to save the marriage…

God was saving me.

The hunger I developed for His presence didn’t come from spiritual discipline at first.

It came from desperation.

From realizing that the things I thought would hold my life together… couldn’t.

Looking back now, I can see that season differently.

What felt like one of the most painful seasons of my life became the beginning of a much deeper relationship with God than I had ever experienced before.

Sometimes the unimaginable doesn’t just change our circumstances.

Sometimes it changes our relationship with God.

When the Unimaginable Happens

Before we talk about trusting God in uncertain seasons, we have to acknowledge the moments that shake us the most.

The moments we never saw coming.

Because for many of us, the real test of trust doesn’t begin with small decisions or leaps of faith.

It begins when something happens that completely rearranges the life we thought we were building.

A diagnosis.

A betrayal.

A divorce.

A tragic loss.

These are not small disappointments.

These are the kinds of moments that rearrange a life overnight.

And when the unimaginable happens, faith stops being theoretical.

It becomes personal.

Very personal.

Because many of us assumed that if we prayed, lived right, and followed God faithfully, life would unfold in a certain way.

Not perfect.

But stable.

Predictable.

Safe.

And when that expectation breaks, it doesn’t just shake our circumstances.

It can shake our understanding of God.

Questions surface that we may not always say out loud:

God, how did this happen?

Where were You in this?

Did I miss something?

Did I hear You wrong?

Why?

These questions don’t make you faithless.

They make you human.

Even some of the most faithful people in scripture wrestled with seasons like this.

David cried out in the Psalms:

“How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?”

— Psalm 13:1

Job lost nearly everything in a matter of days.

Joseph was betrayed by his brothers and imprisoned for years for a crime he didn’t commit.

None of them expected their stories to unfold the way they did.

Trusting God when life is going well is one thing.

Trusting Him when something unimaginable has happened requires a deeper kind of faith.

Not the kind that pretends everything is fine.

But the kind that slowly chooses to believe that God is still present, still sovereign, and still good…even when we cannot see how.

Leaning Into the Maker, Not Just the Matter

One thing I’ve noticed about myself, and honestly about many of us, is that when something hard happens, our attention immediately goes to the matter.

The problem.
The situation.
The thing that went wrong.

We lean into questions like:

Why is this happening?
How do I fix this?
How do I make this stop?

Those questions are human.

But if we stay there too long, they can slowly consume our focus.

In seasons like this, what we often need most is not to lean into the matter.

We need to lean into the Maker.

The One who sees the full story when we can only see the moment.

Job Seasons

Sometimes life doesn’t just hand us one difficult circumstance.

Sometimes we enter a season where it feels like one thing after another.

A loss.

A setback.

Another unexpected turn.

And before we’ve had time to recover from the first thing, the next thing arrives.

Scripture gives us a picture of seasons like this through the story of Job.

Not just one hardship.

But wave after wave.

The kind of season where you find yourself asking,

God… what is happening?

Those are the moments when our faith is stretched the most.

Not simply because something hard happened.

But because it’s one hard after another and you don’t even have a moment to catch your breath, to rebuild or heal from the last thing…it’s brutal.

Trusting God Through Community

Another thing I’ve learned in seasons like this is that trusting God has also meant learning to trust people again.

And if I’m honest, that hasn’t always been easy.

When life delivers painful experiences, especially in relationships, it’s very natural to become guarded.

To withdraw.

To handle things alone.

But faith was never meant to be lived entirely in isolation.

It’s the presence of others who understand through experience. Or the genuine love and encouragement from those who don’t.

Moments like that remind me that while God meets us personally in our pain, He often cares for us through the presence of others.

Sometimes, part of trusting God in the unknown means allowing Him to place the right people around us.

People who can pray with us.

Encourage us.

And remind us we’re not walking through the unknown alone.

Bringing Our Real Emotions to God

Another important part of trusting God in difficult seasons is learning to bring our real emotions to Him.

Not just the polished ones.

The honest ones.

The anger.
The hurt.
The rejection.
The confusion.

This was actually something I had to learn personally.

During a particular season, one of the unexpected things my Christian therapist helped me work on was how I approached God in prayer.

I realized that I often came to God in the way I thought I should feel… not in the way I actually felt.

I thought I needed to sound positive for God.

Which, when you really think about it, is a little crazy.

God already knows what we’re feeling.

But somehow I had convinced myself that I needed to approach Him with the “right” words and the “right” attitude.

What my therapist gently helped me see is that God isn’t asking for a polished version of us.

He invites our honesty.

The Psalms are filled with raw prayers.

David didn’t hide his emotions from God.

He brought them directly to Him.

And after we pour out our hearts, we can ask God for what we need.

Not always for the entire season.

Sometimes just for the day.

Strength for today.

Peace for today.

Wisdom for today.

Grace to take the next step today.

Prayer doesn’t always have to be long or elaborate.

Sometimes it’s as simple as:

God, I’m hurting.

God, I’m tired.

God, help me get through today.

And often that kind of honest prayer is where deeper trust begins to grow.

A Question to Sit With

Has there ever been a moment in your life when something happened that you never imagined or planned for?

How did that season affect your trust in God and your relationship with Him?

If you’re comfortable sharing, I’d love to hear in the comments.

Next week, we’ll explore another side of this conversation:

Trusting God when the life you imagined, prayed for, and worked for doesn’t happen.

Happy Friday, ladies 🤎

I have SO many thoughts. So many stories. So many things I want to unpack with y’all.

But before I just start dropping content, I actually want to pause and hear from you.

For those of you who are newer here, I write for what I call High Visibility Women in Hiding.

If you haven’t read the original piece explaining this, you can review below.

Women with real capacity.
Real influence.
Real calling.

But for whatever reason: pruning, transition, healing, obedience, burnout, you’re in a refining or repositioning season.

And as I’ve been reading comments and having real-life conversations, I’ve realized something:

We are not all in the same place.

Some of us are trying to hear God clearly again.
Some of us are untangling gifts from education and expertise.
Some of us are like, “Okay… but what is my actual assignment?”

So I need your help.

I dropped a poll below. Take a second and vote.

And if you want to elaborate in the comments or message me privately, please do. I read it all.

I’m also thinking about doing an “Ask Alexis” segment 👀

Y’all could submit real-life scenarios (identifying details would be removed, of course), and we could talk through things like:

• Faith
• Career
• Friendships
• Dating & Marriage
• Or whatever is really sitting heavy on you

The goal isn’t just content.
The goal is to bring alignment.

If enough of y’all are interested, I might even do some of these in short video form.

Let me know.

I’m not just building something for you.
I’m building it with you.

And I’m grateful you’re here. For real. 🤎

This is the part of the journey where many of us get stuck.

If you’ve ever felt like you’re doing the right things but remain stagnant in your relationship with the Lord or unclear in your calling, this is usually why.

You love God.
You know He speaks to you.
You are trying to live faithfully.

But something feels like it’s missing.

Most of us are looking for God in miracles, money, and massive movements.

But God develops us in the small.

And your ability to steward the small determines what happens next.

Fruit vs. Seeds

We are often looking for fully ripe fruit.

God is often handing us seeds.

Seeds don’t look impressive.
They require cultivation.
They require patience.

David was a shepherd boy with a slingshot long before he was a king with an army (1 Samuel 17). Working a slingshot was not glamorous. It was not celebrated. But it was preparation. That hidden skill became the seed that positioned him to face Goliath.

The seed rarely looks like destiny.

It looks like a recurring conversation.
A new role that doesn’t fully make sense.
An opportunity that feels inconvenient but persistent.
A person God keeps bringing across your path.

The seed is usually right in front of you.

But you have to see it and take hold.

Obedience

There are two phases here.

The first is foundational obedience.
Have you done the last thing God told you to do?

Sometimes growth isn’t about discovering something new. It’s about finishing what was already given.

But for some, especially those called to great impact, obedience becomes specific development.

God isn’t just shaping you as a disciple.
He is shaping you uniquely, for an assignment.

Character Development

This is where many high-achieving women struggle.

The kingdom does not operate like the world.

You cannot earn promotion through work ethic alone.

God is not looking at effort first.
He is looking at heart posture.

And sometimes the small assignment is not about the task at all.

It is about refining intention.
Breaking subtle pride.
Realigning motivation.

You may be successful in the world while still being under construction in the kingdom.

God will not bypass character development simply because you are capable.

Gift Identification & Development

Often the women I serve carry a similar mix of gifts: faith, leadership, and wisdom.

You already have a clear professional trajectory based on your education and experience.

But God may give you assignments that do not match your résumé.

And yet, you will recognize your gifts working there.

In ministry.
In business.
In local community.

But it requires a yes.

A yes to discomfort.
A yes to inconvenience.
A yes to serve those who may never elevate your status.

A Small Assignment

Years ago, I was at Trader Joe’s with my boys on a Saturday. The store was busy. The aisles were full.

An older white woman and I ended up in the same aisle, reaching for the same product. We exchanged a few words. Nothing memorable. She moved on, and so did I.

A moment later, in the middle of the noise and activity, I heard the Lord say:

Give her a ride home.

I assumed I was imagining it. So I prayed what felt safest:

God, if this is You, make it undeniably clear.

I didn’t see her again in the store and assumed I had either misheard or missed the moment.

When I walked outside, she was there — her cart full of groceries, waiting for a taxi.

This time, I noticed something I hadn’t seen inside.

She was leaning on a cane.

I offered her a ride. She looked surprised, then accepted.

Her house was directly on my way home. I didn’t detour. I didn’t turn into a neighborhood. I simply pulled over on the street I normally take home.

The obedience cost me almost nothing.

But it changed something in me.

That day taught me what I didn’t yet have language for.

God was training my ear to hear Him — and my heart to respond.

Not through platforms.
Not through visibility.
Not through formal church assignments.

Through the ordinary.

Jesus says in Luke 16:10:

“Whoever is faithful in very little is also faithful in much.”

For years, I thought that this verse was only about money or responsibility.

Now I understand something deeper.

Faithfulness is not measured by outcome.

It is measured by response.

Small obedience determines what you are entrusted with next.

Conclusion

God’s development process is rarely dramatic, but it is deliberate.

He meets you where you are.
He teaches you through how you’re wired.
He trains your attention before He entrusts you with an assignment.
And He tests your obedience in the small before He ever expands your influence.

If you’re questioning, wondering, or unclear, it may not be that you are behind or doing something wrong.

It may be that you are being developed.

In 2013, I didn’t know I was being developed.
I thought I was just tired.

I was living in Baltimore at the time, raising young children, carrying the weight of a life I didn’t expect. My mother suggested a trip home to Georgia, and while I was there, we took a short trip to Callaway Gardens.

I came for a break from my life.
What I found was space — space to breathe, to slow down, to notice.

As we walked through the gardens, something shifted.
The colors felt sharper.
The air smelled different.
My pace slowed.

It felt like I had been transported, both literally and figuratively, to another place.

Being outside didn’t just feel restorative.
It felt like a place of anchoring for me.

When I returned to Baltimore, I began to pay attention to this. Whenever the weather allowed, I would get outside intentionally. I took my boys to the playground. I would walk or run at Dru Hill Park or Lake Montebello. I noticed that when I was outdoors, my mind quieted.

At home, I was distracted.
Outside, I was present.

This was different from anything I had been taught. Most of what I had learned emphasized prayer closets and carefully constructed spiritual routines. But once again, God met me differently.

He met me outside.

For some of us, the issue isn’t that God isn’t speaking.
It’s that we haven’t learned where and how we hear Him most clearly.

Throughout Scripture, God often speaks to people outside. On mountains (Exodus 19; 1 Kings 19:8–13). In gardens (Genesis 3:8). By the sea (Exodus 14:15-16).

Over time, I began to recognize three ways God was meeting me in nature.

First, I learned how to simply be with Him.
When I was outside, my mind cleared more easily. I wasn’t performing prayer. I was learning to just be in His presence.

Second, God would often use what I saw in nature as a starting point for communication. I would notice something specific—an animal, a color, something that didn’t seem to belong. What I noticed externally would open a conversation internally.

Third, God would give me specific insight related to what I was dealing with. Parenting wisdom. My emotions. Direction about work. Not all at once. Not dramatically. But clearly.

During that same trip, we visited the Little White House, Franklin D. Roosevelt’s historic summer home near Callaway Gardens. I’ve always loved history and old homes, so we went simply because it interested me.

But it was learning about his wife, Eleanor Roosevelt, that stopped me.

She had been groomed for aristocracy, yet she became one of the most outspoken advocates for social justice in American history. She used her proximity to power not for preservation, but for service.

I couldn’t shake her story.

I ordered books.
I read more.
I paid attention.

I knew the stories of Black women who chose to fight injustice for the sake of their own survival and the well-being and safety of their loved ones. But to see a white woman using her status to advocate for the dignity of others during that era was quite uncommon.

That word stayed with me.

Uncommon.

She had been groomed for one thing, but graced for another.

God wasn’t just highlighting history. He was showing me a pattern. And He was doing it through something that already held my attention.

We often assume that if God wants to speak, it will come through obviously spiritual channels. Scripture. Prayer. Church. And He absolutely does speak there.

But He also speaks through what interests you.

Through what you linger over.
Through what you return to.
Through what captures your attention without effort.

Interest is not always a distraction.
Sometimes it is an invitation.

Looking back, I can see that God was developing my discernment. He was teaching me how to notice, how to listen, and how to recognize patterns.

He met me in nature.
He spoke through my curiosity.
He developed my attentiveness long before He entrusted me with unique assignments.

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Reflection

Has God met you in unconventional ways?

I’ve always been a reader and a writer.
Since I was a little girl.

Before I had language for God’s voice or spiritual formation, books were how I made sense of the world. Writing was how I processed what I noticed, what I felt, and what I didn’t yet understand.

I didn’t know it then, but this would become the foundation of how the Lord taught me and how He spoke to me.

Around 2011, I began reading faith-based books of all kinds. I wasn’t just consuming ideas. I was paying attention. I would read a concept and then sit with its scriptural grounding.

Scripture wasn’t absent from the process.
It just wasn’t where I started.

I know this runs counter to how many are taught. Most people are instructed to begin with the Word and stay there. But the Lord knew how He had wired me.

He knew my neurodivergent ADHD brain.
My love of learning.
The way I naturally absorbed truth through story, framework, and synthesis.

Looking back, I can see something clearly now.

God didn’t start with how I should learn.
He started with how I already did.

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When I was younger, Scripture often felt flat to me. Not untrue. Not irrelevant. Just inaccessible. I remember sitting in church as a child, listening to preachers read a verse and explain it, and feeling like I was missing the doorway into the text. I could hear the words, but I didn’t know how to enter them.

Books helped me do that.

Even non-fiction personal development books became bridges. I would read something about leadership or purpose, and suddenly Scripture made sense in a new way. The Lord would use what I was currently reading to illuminate what I had heard my whole life but never fully grasped.

Later, when I participated in my first formal Bible study as an adult, I felt even more confused. I did well on paper. I was at the top of the class. I knew the answers. I could keep up.

But the study relied heavily on Daily Bread devotionals, trivia, and surface-level recall. Memorizing that there were sixty-six books in the Bible or learning how to pronounce difficult names didn’t help me understand the Word.

I didn’t need more information.
I needed tools.

Tools to excavate Scripture.
To trace themes.
To understand context.
To see how the Bible speaks across story, culture, and time.

And then there was writing.

What began as escapism when I was a little girl slowly became my secret place with God.

Pen to paper was where things flowed. Not structured. Not planned. I would sit down to write and suddenly feel like I had tapped into something deeper. Words would come quickly, fully formed, without effort.

At the time, I didn’t recognize this as hearing God.
I was just writing.

Handwritten message I wrote to my little brother when he was five.

Transcription: Right now he's five but I hope to at least see him turn fifty. He's an enthusiastic and very active person. He has lots of dreams and I hope they come true. I hope that the Lord steers him and keeps him in the right direction. As I look at him, I hope that he will become a well-behaved gentleman some day. I love this very special person and all of my prayers be with him. Today he's a just a little kid and tomorrow he's a grown man. Through all of the different times and emotions, I will always be his big sister.

I was 11 years old when I wrote this. It wasn’t just a sweet message. It was a prayer. A declaration. I was capturing, as best I could as a child, what I sensed about his life and his destiny.

I didn’t know that’s what I was doing.
It was instinctive.

Eventually, as an adult, I began to recognize a pattern.

Writing wasn’t just processing.
It became a place where I met God.

I wasn’t generating insight.
I was recording it.

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What I later learned is that Scripture has always made room for people who encounter God through words.

The Bible speaks of scribes not merely as record keepers, but as people entrusted with preserving, interpreting, and stewarding what God was saying.

Ezra is one of the clearest examples. He is described as “a scribe skilled in the Law of Moses” (Ezra 7:6). A few verses later, we’re told why: “Ezra had devoted himself to the study and observance of the Law of the Lord, and to teaching its decrees and laws” (Ezra 7:10).

That order matters.

Ezra studied the Word.
He lived it.
And then he taught it.

He wasn’t inventing revelation.
He was stewarding what had already been given.

Jesus affirms this role again in the New Testament when He speaks of scribes trained for the kingdom. He says they are like “the owner of a house who brings out of his storeroom new treasures as well as old” (Matthew 13:52).

This scripture has stayed with me.

Scribes don’t discard what’s old to chase what’s new.
And they don’t cling to the old in fear of the new.

They hold both.

They tend the storeroom.
They preserve truth long enough for others to receive it.

Looking back now, I can see that what felt like “just writing” was actually attentiveness. Writing trained me to slow down. To listen carefully. To stay with meaning long enough for it to form me.

Writing wasn’t my substitute for Scripture.
It was how Scripture began to come alive for me.

Not everyone encounters God the same way, and Scripture never suggests that we should.

Some hear God clearly in silence.
Some hear God clearly through prayer and deep intercession.
Some hear God through dreams and visions.

And some, like scribes, discern through words.

Through reading.
Through writing.
Through reflection that refuses to rush past meaning.

God doesn’t elevate one method above another.
He simply develops the one He gave you.

God didn’t wait for me to learn how I should learn.
He met me exactly where I was being me.

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Reflection

Where has God been teaching you in ways that feel natural to you, but unfamiliar or undervalued by others?

We all want to do God’s will.
But many of us struggle because we don’t understand God’s ways.

This mini-series is an attempt to bring clarity and confidence as you discern what the Lord may be doing in your own life, especially if your development hasn’t followed the script you were given.

For a long time, I wrestled.

Not with God.
With the environments surrounding Him.

I had expectations about how spiritual development was supposed to work,
and my expectations weren’t matching my reality.

I would attend church services, conferences, and faith-based events and leave feeling disoriented.
Like I was missing something everyone else seemed fluent in.

I didn’t understand the language.
The structure.
Or the absence of one.

I was being asked, sometimes subtly and sometimes directly, to conform to religious protocols that didn’t actually draw me closer to God.
And that confusion produced frustration, not rebellion.

What made it harder was this:
I was learning more about God through books, study, and online ministries than I was through the in-person spaces that were supposed to be forming me.

So I questioned myself.

Am I doing this wrong?
Why isn’t this landing for me?
Why do I feel more alive learning outside the four walls than inside them?

I was deeply aware of the warning in Scripture about always learning but never arriving at truth (2 Timothy 3:7).
I didn’t want information without formation
or knowledge without intimacy.

Let me be clear:

I am not anti-church.
My husband and I are deeply involved in our local church community.
We believe in the body.
We believe in gathering.

But development is not always linear.
And it is not always predictable.

For many of us, we’ve unintentionally restricted how God is “allowed” to move.
We assume formation happens only through certain steps,
certain spaces,
or certain people.

God’s patterns often repeat,
but His methods rarely do.
And when we expect uniformity,
we often miss the uniqueness of how He’s moving in us.

What if God’s developmental process for you is beyond what’s typical
or widely accepted?

What if your wrestling isn’t resistance
but redirection?

I wasn’t rejecting God.
I was resisting a version of spirituality that required me to abandon how I was actually wired.

What I didn’t understand then
was that God wasn’t trying to rewire me.
He was trying to meet me where I was being me.

And once I stopped confusing conformity with formation,
things began to make sense.

God wasn’t asking me to become someone else
in order to hear Him.

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What I can see clearly now is this:

God’s developmental process is rarely loud
or uniform.
But it is intentional.

• He meets you in you being you, not the version you think you should become.

• He often begins with small acts of obedience, not big moments or public assignments.

• He gives smaller assignments first, and how we steward them determines what comes next.

• And He moves uniquely through people, even when that uniqueness isn’t obvious or attached to worldly success or accomplishments.

God wasn’t absent.
He wasn’t silent.
He was speaking,
just not in the way I’d been taught to expect.

And learning how God spoke to me
was the beginning of learning how He would lead me.

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Reflection

Has God ever met you in a way you didn’t expect, and how did you respond?

In 2013, I sat in therapy and rambled off every problem I could think of in my life.

• Financial setbacks.

• A lack of community, with my family and friends hundreds of miles away.

• A marriage that was in shambles.

• Professional disappointments despite how hard I worked.

• The exhaustion of trying to carry it all while raising two young children.

When I finished, she asked a few questions that felt oddly disconnected from my rant. Then she said something I will never forget:

“You need to learn how to play.”

I was pissed.

I couldn’t believe that was her response. My life was literally falling apart, and this was what we were talking about.

She had been my therapist for some time. She had context. There was no need for extra explaining. I politely listened while continuing to strategize my way out of everything in my head.

I know now those words were exactly what I needed.
I just couldn’t see it yet.

Like most high-achieving women, I was driven, responsible, and disciplined. But left unchecked, without balance, I was also rigid, intense, and honestly… boring.

I was always the one to fix things.
Go the extra mile.
Plan for the next goal.

Somewhere in my adulting manual, I had missed the chapters on:

• Joy just because

• Finding beauty even in brokenness

• Allowing space for the unexpected

Life was challenging my perfectionism, and I was losing.

God was watching me wear myself out. The Bible was being read. The prayers were being prayed. But I wasn’t actually giving anything to God, because I was determined to fix everything here on Earth.

This season began challenging some of the statements we’ve heard, and maybe even said ourselves:

• If you work hard, you can have anything you want.

• If you pray, God will work it out.

And yes, God does work things out. But for a long time, I thought that meant He would give me what I wanted.

I had a performative lens on life.
A performative faith.
A performative work ethic.

So God was inviting me onto a new path and playing wasn’t just about playing.

It wasn’t about finding a hobby or taking a vacation.

It was about learning how to pause.
How to enjoy a moment, a person, or a thing without a goal attached.
How to be present without needing a win.

Old me assigned play to vacations and special occasions.
New me understands play as a vital part of everyday life.

Unintentionally, I found myself in a season God had very intentionally designed, one meant to confront control and dismantle superficial markers of success.

In the months that followed, I noticed something unsettling.

I would question whether my goals were even worth pursuing.
Or I’d hit the goal and still feel empty inside.

For example, I had a goal to receive a six figure base salary. When this actually happened, it was the lowest professional moment of my life.

This realization was scarier than the losses I could easily name, because:

• There was no timeline or clear ending.

• There was no community for this kind of unraveling.

• There was no measurable definition of success.

• There was no clear next step.

But this season produced:

• Contentment

• Curiosity

• A call to deeper things, spiritually and practically

In 2020, while living in Fort Lauderdale, I began journaling Scripture during my quiet time. I was wrestling with the unknown. I wanted clarity, especially around the plans for my life. I had desires in my heart and prophetic promises spoken over me, and what I really wanted was a neat, practical download outlining my next steps.

Instead, the Lord said something simple. And profound.

Learn to live.
Steward well.
And savor well.

I had Stewardship down.
Savoring? Not so much.

To savor means to relish, to take pleasure in, to delight.

I didn’t realize at the time that savoring would be the hardest part.

Much of my journey over the last several years hasn’t been about doing more. It’s been about doing less. Or doing the same things, but no longer at the expense of my soul.

It meant learning when to say no.
Releasing the reflexive yes.
Discovering joy and fun in ways that once felt irresponsible, or even silly.

We’re in January now. A month when many are pressing harder, especially in productivity and professional goals. If any of this resonates, let me lovingly challenge you to pause and reassess.

Like so many women, I carried a deep-rooted sense of control. If I worked hard enough, long enough, faithfully enough, I believed I could produce the outcome I was looking for. Culture reinforces this. And before we realize it, we’re running on an invisible hamster wheel, busy, exhausted, and spiritually disconnected.

The women I’m called to serve don’t need help doing more. They’ve mastered that. They’ve accumulated accomplishments, accolades, and more education than they could ever use in a lifetime.

What they need help with is learning how to live fully.
How to slow down.
How to align their lives with what matters most to God, and to them.

Maturity for me now, spiritual and otherwise, isn’t metric-based. It isn’t earned through output. Often, it looks like doing less and playing more. That may sound wild, but it’s honest.

Maturity looks like acknowledging shame, guilt, and self-condemnation when they surface, from trauma, drama, or cultural conditioning.

Maturity looks like savoring the sun on my face.
A cool breeze against my skin.
A beautiful outfit or thoughtfully designed space.
A heart-felt conversation that nourishes my soul.

And maturity looks like admitting that years ago, that therapist really did piss me off in the moment.

But she was absolutely right.

And I’m grateful.

Has God been dealing with you on slowing down, savoring more and laying down things that don’t matter?

View from our Hotel Room Christmas 2025

My 2026 Phrase of the Year: Accelerated Ease

I was sitting in church in November when I heard the phrase accelerated ease, clear as day.

Every so often, while I’m sitting in a church service, the Holy Spirit speaks to me directly. It may or may not be related to the sermon itself, but there are certain things I only receive when I’m in the house of God.

I’ve learned this is connected to the corporate anointing attached to the body of believers you are called to.

Scripture says, “Do not forsake the gathering of the saints” (Hebrews 10:25). This isn’t a rule about attendance, but a safeguard for encouragement, endurance, and preparation, especially as the days grow darker.

There are teachings, people, serving opportunities, and assignments you are meant to encounter in the local church God has placed you in for a specific season. Many of us choose churches we like instead of prayerfully discerning where God has assigned us.

Accelerated
To move faster than expected. To advance rapidly due to increased momentum.

Ease
Effortlessness. Grace that removes strain without removing responsibility.

Accelerated ease is not the absence of effort. It is the presence of alignment.

In this season, I sense God accelerating outcomes that once required strain. Not because the work disappears, but because obedience, purpose, and timing have converged.

My 2026 Word of the Year: Recompense

Recently, in a small group text thread, one of the women shared her word for 2026. Others chimed in. I didn’t immediately have one, and I wasn’t concerned. I already had a phrase.

A few minutes later, I received a text from my husband.

God had moved mightily in our lives just days before, but this text was about something He had done for another couple we love deeply. Watching God move on their behalf overwhelmed me. I put on Don’t Faint by Jekalyn Carr and let it play on repeat. Some of you who follow me on Instagram may have caught pieces of that moment.

And then I sensed the word: recompense.

Recompense refers to compensation or reward for loss, harm, or effort. Biblically, it speaks to divine justice.

God declares, “Vengeance is Mine; I will repay.” (Deuteronomy 32:35)

We often think of God’s justice in terms of punishment or fairness. But in this season, I sense we will witness His justice through blessing.

Not blessing for the sake of payback, but blessing that positions us to become solutions for others.

For some, this will be financial.
For others, relational.
For many, both.

My 2026 Scripture of the Year: Joel 2:25

“I will restore to you the years that the locust has eaten.”

Joel 2:25 is God’s promise to restore not just things, but years, seasons, and experiences that were lost, delayed, or devoured.

When the Holy Spirit highlighted this scripture to me in September 2024, I knew it was significant, but that it was a word meant to unfold over time and across multiple areas of life.

God often gives us dreams, prophetic words, and instructions to encourage us, prepare our hearts, and position us practically. Some of us hear God and rush to act in the wrong seasons, and in doing so, we unintentionally miss opportunities.

What has unfolded in recent months has made it clear. Now is the time for the actualization of this word.

Why I Know This Is God

Turn on the news. Scroll social media. Every headline tightens your body, rolls your eyes, or sends you into prayer.

At this point, whether you’re Democrat or Republican, Black or White, Believer or Atheist, many of us are praying because the world feels unsteady.

Only God can give words of restoration, recompense, and ease against this current world backdrop.

The Extra Unexpected

Christmas looked different for us this year.

My husband’s business, proverbial fruit connected to these words, is taking off, and he has a client in Fort Lauderdale. We spent Christmas Eve and Christmas Day at the beach.

The day after Christmas, we boarded a family cruise with my husband’s side of the family. His 87-year-old grandmother, Grandma Sadie, the matriarch, had one request months earlier. She wanted to go on a cruise with her family.

When an 87-year-old makes a request like that, you move things around to make it happen.

Two Observations That Stayed With Me

1. Internet Obsession
The cruise charged nearly $300 for internet access. We declined.

Imagine telling three teenagers they wouldn’t have internet for several days.

It revealed how tethered we are to constant access to the world and how intentional we must be about fighting for intimacy with the Father.

2. Food Obsession
We saw many people consuming without restraint. This isn’t about weight. It’s about health.

My husband is a clinical exercise physiologist specializing in cardiac rehabilitation. Obesity is one of the primary contributors to cardiac events. Watching this, and reflecting on my own habits, convicted me.

Not about dieting.
About discipline.
About stewardship.

Gluttony & Stewardship

The day after returning home, I couldn’t shake these observations. Then I heard the word: gluttony.

It wasn’t spoken to shame or guilt me. It was spoken to sober me.

Gluttony isn’t just excess.
It is a mismanaged appetite.

Blessings from God are good, but they come with responsibility.

How are you stewarding what you prayed for?

You prayed for marriage. How are you stewarding it?
You prayed for children. How are you stewarding motherhood?
You prayed for financial increase. How are you stewarding provision?

Blessings that aren’t stewarded well can quietly become burdens. They can harm us practically, create idolatry, and distance us from God’s purposes.

Entering the New Year

As I step into 2026, I’m auditing my appetites, my habits, and my boundaries, not out of fear, but reverence.

I don’t want to just receive blessings.
I want to steward them well.

2025 has been quite the year.

But to understand it, I need to briefly take you back to 2024.

2024: The Year Everything Changed

I married the love of my life on April 4, 2024, in Atlanta.

I spent one full day with my new husband.
Attended a family funeral the next day.
Drove back to Charlotte.
Then flew to DC the following day for work.

I worked up until the day I got married, pushing to meet deliverables, resolve unexpected issues, and do what “a leader does.”

There’s already a theme emerging.

A personal high being quietly overrun by work.

In June, I relocated to Atlanta. I stayed in Charlotte a few extra months so my boys could finish the school year.

In July, we moved into our home together: my husband, my two sons, and my new daughter.

New city.
New schools.
New family rhythm.
New everything.

We squeezed in a beautiful honeymoon in Los Cabos. But I returned and could barely catch my breath.

And then there was work. And it was consuming.

Without getting into the details, it became unsustainable for me.
The one who always figured it out.
The one who always pushed through.

After conversations with my husband, my mentor, and my doctor, I took a leave of absence.

By October, I resigned.

I was a VP of People & Culture.
A dream role.
At what I once believed was a dream organization.

This wasn’t the plan.

So if I had to sum up 2024 in one sentence:

I married my dream man, relocated from Charlotte to Atlanta, and quit my dream job.

2025: The Year God Reordered Me

As usual, I had plans for 2025.

I planned to find another well-paying, high-impact role.
I planned to buy a business because I knew entrepreneurship was the ultimate goal.
I worked diligently toward both.

Neither happened.

In January 2025, I attended a workshop on purpose. I went in expecting a monumental download from the Lord. I wanted Him to approve my plans, of course.

Instead, He spoke clearly and simply:

“Reordering of priorities.”

My professional path was in direct conflict with what God was inviting me into. And while I believed in surrender, I also believed I could still do it all.

In past seasons, I had.

But this season required something different.

I was being asked to release what I knew—hustle, grind, busyness, and always saying yes—to receive what I said I wanted:
a slower pace, flexibility, and freedom.

On paper, it sounded easy.

In practice, I wrestled.

This year exposed how deeply busyness was ingrained in me. How much I equated productivity with worth. How uncomfortable I felt when I wasn’t accomplishing something measurable.

Busyness wasn’t my schedule.
It was my identity.

If I’m being honest, the Lord was also exposing my struggle with control.

I fought to receive the very things I had been praying for.

And I’m still unpacking that, especially as I watch so many women burn the candle at both ends, calling it faithfulness.

In the first quarter of the year, I wrestled with these truths.

In the second quarter, I acknowledged them. I even released a consulting client quickly when she crossed agreed-upon professional boundaries.

In the third quarter, I launched this Substack—but more than that, I relaunched as a woman.

And in the fourth quarter, I’m embodying this season and all that I am beyond a job title.

In previous years, December was always consumed by work.
Not because I didn’t have time off—but because so much depended on me.
While others were winding down, I was scrambling to wrap up year-end activities.

This post is being written from Fort Lauderdale, at the beach, on a trip with my husband.

It feels full circle. In 2020, I lived in Fort Lauderdale on sabbatical as a single mom. You can read that story here.

But 2025 has marked the release of life as I once knew it—and the ushering in of a new life, new relationships, and new opportunities.

December has been full…but not with work.

With people.
With serving.
With experiences.
With joy.

What I’m Carrying Forward

So I’ll ask you what I had to finally ask myself:

Who are you outside of your career?

I’m a wife.
A mother.
A writer.
A gift connoisseur.
A book nerd.
A professional eater.
A Fashion Hype Woman.

And this year, with God’s help, I finally made space to be her.

“I’ve been a keeper of chaos since I was six years old.”
The words slipped out of my mouth so naturally, like water from a stream.

It was 2020, one of the most chaotic years in modern history.
While everything external screamed disorder, internally, God was cultivating clarity.
Chaos had been my rhythm for so long that I didn’t even realize it had become familiar.

My next-door neighbor was wrestling with identity, aging, illness, and the loss of who he once was.
I was wrestling with identity, too, but in a different way. I was learning to give myself permission to be who I already was.

God was inviting me onto a new path, one marked by surrender and adventure, where I could meet a version of myself I’d never known before.
I had to choose: keep living the way I’d always lived or surrender to the path God was opening.

My neighbor loved to cook, and I loved to eat.
It was a perfect match.

He was an older Black man from Savannah, and I was a Georgia girl raised on my grandmother’s country cooking.
He’d cook, or boss me around in the kitchen, and I’d talk. He’d listen.

He gave me something I didn’t realize I needed: a safe space to just be.
He didn’t try to fix me. He just let me talk.
And in the middle of quarantine, I ate better than I had in years.

Because he was a veteran, I had access to the commissary: fresh produce, quality meats, and even my bougie favorites like LaCroix and coconut water with pineapple juice.
While others faced food scarcity, I was tasting God’s provision in unexpected ways.

At the same time, I was meeting weekly with my pastor on Zoom.
He carried the weight of two frontline callings during COVID, both spiritual and emotional, Senior Pastor and Professional Counselor.
To have someone call forth who you really are, especially after years of being unseen and undervalued, is transformative.
His willingness to make time for me while carrying the weight of the world was a rare and special kind of gift.

God was positioning me to not just survive, but to live.
He was inviting me into healing, wholeness, and thriving.

The world was shut down, but my world, my voice, my vision, and my gifts were being activated.

I had chased every book, course, and coach trying to “find myself.”
But God was giving me a personalized curriculum, and I wasn’t the teacher.
The only lesson plan was surrender.

And like so many women I’m called to, high-functioning but secretly exhausted, surrender wasn’t easy.
But it was the only way forward.

God wasn’t revealing my identity, He was activating it.
You were designed with identity in mind.
Many of us waste so much time, energy, and money chasing purpose apart from our God-given identity.

Your identity has to be actualized through surrender, not striving.

That season became the foundation for what I now call the ICON Method, a framework that helps women anchor in their unique God-given design, align their story with His story, and live purposefully from a place of surrender.

Because:

Identity is God-given. Purpose is pursued. Surrender is the bridge.

Reflection

What area of your life have you been trying to control that God is asking you to surrender?
This is often the shift point, where identity becomes activated in a deeper way and purpose begins to unfold.

If this spoke to you, share it with another woman who’s learning to live from surrender.

God rarely moves on our schedule. Sometimes He feels slow; other times He moves so fast it takes your breath away. Either way, His timing always reveals whether we truly trust Him.

Learning to discern His pace is one of the key steps to walking out your purpose.

A Peak into My Journey

2020
During my sabbatical in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, the Lord gave me the name The Prototype Woman. It wasn’t just a catchy phrase; it was an answer to one of my deepest questions: “How do I become the woman I was called to be?”

2021
My pastor told me I’d have some kind of blog for women. At the time, I was frustrated. I hadn’t found a job, the Lord had said no to business for that season, and I felt misunderstood. People thought I was being extra or losing it when I was just trying to be obedient to a process I didn’t fully understand.

2025
Four years later, the Lord told me to start writing publicly. In July, I launched The Prototype Woman. Some of the ideas I share now were formed in my journal years ago. Looking back, I see that the life I lived between 2021 and today was intentional, both for my development and as a lived-out curriculum for what I would one day teach to other women. Nothing was wasted.

Six Weeks Ago
The Lord told me to do something I never thought about, but now I can clearly see He’s been preparing me for this my entire life. Although the assignment itself was never on my radar, I can already sense the grace and alignment to walk in it with ease. This assignment will move quickly, and it’s already begun to take off. I share this to emphasize that sometimes God’s pace will feel rapid.

Through it all, I’ve learned that purpose has a God-ordained pace. Discerning that pace requires wisdom, stillness, and spiritual maturity.

How to Discern God’s Timing

Ask God.
If we can be honest, there are many times that we don’t ask God for His timing on a thing; we just assume. We hear God and assume that means we need to do it tomorrow.

Remove distractions.
High-visibility women especially struggle here. Because of your gifts and heart to help, you will be constantly pulled on. What ends up happening is that you get too busy with things and people that God never ordained. You’re leading this, serving for that, and in close community with some who serve no purpose… all distractions.

You need to focus on hearing God, and He often speaks in a still, small voice. You have too much going on to hear. Because it’s good doesn’t mean it’s God. This is a time where you must remove people, places, and things that don’t align with this season of your life.

The Bible says, “Lay aside every weight” (Hebrews 12:1). Even good things can become distractions when they’re not God things.

Seek community that can hear Heaven.
What do I mean? Many pray, but fewer hear a response clearly and consistently. Some of this is based on consecration (how a person lives), and some of it is based on the person’s gifting and assignment. Those with prophetic gifts will hear more and with greater depth because of how they’ve been wired.

We’re chasing people with cute soundbites, fancy titles, and fluff who are giving us motivational pep talks. Those who hear Heaven can give you insight based on their experiences and walk with God and can often hear God on your behalf if led by the Spirit to do so. A rich community will be one of the key differentiators for those who thrive in this next season.

Learn the difference between revelation and release.
A word from God isn’t always a “now” word. Sometimes it’s a seed to be stewarded, not a door to be walked through. I’ve had prophetic words spoken over me years before they came to pass. The waiting taught me to discern when God is speaking and when He is sending.

When Purpose Moves at God’s Speed

God’s timing protects your purpose. Move too soon and you’ll strive. Move too late and you’ll struggle. But when you move with Him, everything aligns: the doors, the favor, the peace.

Purpose has a pace. Let God set it.

“To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.” — Ecclesiastes 3:1

💭 Reflection Prompt

Where might you be moving ahead of God or lagging behind Him?
Ask Him to reveal the pace of this season and give you the grace to walk in rhythm with His timing.

When Functioning Becomes Fragile

When the pandemic hit in 2020, my world shrank to the walls of my home and the glow of my computer screen.

I was homeschooling two young children, tethered to endless online assignments that neither of them could do independently.

Leading Operations & HR for a government contractor to a high-profile agency, interpreting new legislation like the CARES Act and navigating mask mandates for essential employees who had to report in person regardless of the global crisis.

I was caring for a family member who’d flown in right before lockdown, and she had more challenges than I realized.

And lastly, I was caring for my older next-door neighbor who had just come home from the hospital after unexpected complications from surgery. He couldn’t eat solid food or drive, and he didn’t have family close by.

I did what most women who wear capes do best: I managed.

Until my body refused to.

When the Body Keeps the Score

My breaking point didn’t come as an emotional collapse; it came as a physical one.

Aches. Fatigue. Dizziness.

Doctor visits, chiropractor appointments, lab work. During the pandemic, I saw more providers than I had in my entire life.

A medical doctor, a nutritionist, and my own body were all telling the same story: You are burned out.

But I still thought I could push through. Until the morning, I passed out from exhaustion.

Of course, I still tried to hang on, now taking IV nutrients and prescription-strength doses of basic vitamins. I bought a stress-management device and used it like it was my job.

But none of it was enough.

I thought I was managing my life, but really, my life was managing me.

When Even the Doctors Miss It

Prior to this, I had started to feel invisible inside my own pain.

I’d go to appointment after appointment, explaining that something wasn’t right—the exhaustion, the dizziness, the feeling that my body was running on fumes—but the doctors kept brushing it off.

I looked too “put together.”
Too articulate.
Too healthy-looking to be unwell.

Eventually, I stumbled upon the most wonderful primary care physician. When I explained my symptoms and how I’d been treated before, she looked at me with compassion and said:

“It’s because you’re high-functioning. Even doctors miss it.”

Her words landed like a revelation.
I wasn’t crazy.
I wasn’t weak.
I was over-functioning so well that even the people trained to help couldn’t see my distress.

That’s when I realized:

High-functioning doesn’t mean healthy; it means silently hurting.

When Strength Stops Feeling Like a Compliment

People would tell me, “You’re such a strong woman.”
They meant it as encouragement, but it didn’t feel like a compliment.

It felt like a reminder that I wasn’t allowed to be anything else.

I didn’t want to be known as strong.
I wanted to be known as soft.
A relaxed woman.
A fun woman.
A woman whose very presence signaled peace.

But strength had become my survival strategy.
And somewhere along the way, I mistook endurance for identity.

The High-Functioning Woman

This is what I mean by High-Functioning.
It’s not a diagnosis, it’s a disguise.
It’s the lifestyle of invisible survival.

We lead. We produce. We care for others, all while quietly collapsing inside.

Our excellence camouflages our exhaustion.
Our peace is performed, not possessed.
We’ve learned to thrive in chaos so long that true peace feels unattainable.

High-functioning isn’t about capacity; it’s about coping.

The Challenges of a High-Functioning Woman

She looks like she has it all together, but beneath the polish is pressure.

She’s often praised for her resilience, yet few realize her strength was born from survival.
Her “stubbornness” isn’t rebellion, it’s residue.

She learned early that if she didn’t hold things together and do it herself, everything would fall apart.

High-functioning women aren’t stubborn because they love control; they’re stubborn because they fear collapse.

They’ve learned to depend on themselves because depending on others has too often led to disappointment or danger.

Here’s what she battles:

She overidentifies with strength.
Her identity is built on being dependable and disciplined. She fears that if she slows down, everything—or everyone—will fall apart.

She performs peace instead of experiencing it.
On the outside, she’s calm and composed, but on the inside, she’s anxious and exhausted.

She’s addicted to functioning.
Productivity becomes her proof of worth. Stillness feels like failure.

She confuses control for care.
She wants to help, fix, and protect, but underneath is a quiet fear: If I don’t manage it, it’ll all fall apart.

She’s surrounded, but not supported.
Everyone leans on her, but few truly see her. She’s the strong friend who rarely feels safe enough to need anyone.

She spiritualizes overwork.
Because she’s gifted and anointed, she often labels busyness as obedience when it’s really avoidance.

She equates vulnerability with weakness.
She keeps her emotions tightly managed, even with God. Her prayers are polished, but her heart feels guarded.

But God isn’t trying to break her strength.
He’s trying to redeem it.

To transform stubbornness into steadfastness,
control into confidence,
and functioning into flourishing.

The woman who once survived by striving
is being invited to rest by trusting.

The Shift: From Performing to Peace

When I finally listened, truly listened, I realized God wasn’t punishing me with rest.
He was inviting me into recovery.

The opposite of high-functioning isn’t low-performing, it’s whole living.

It’s trading control for clarity.
Performance for presence.

For so long, I was chasing balance, but balance wasn’t the problem.
Acknowledging my limitations and aligning my life with them was.

It’s remembering we were never called to carry everything, only to commune with Him.

Closing Words

The high-functioning woman doesn’t need to be fixed; she needs to be freed.

Freed from the pressure to perform.
Freed from the fear of being seen.
Freed from the belief that peace must be earned.

You don’t have to only be the strong woman.
You can be the woman who laughs easily.
The woman who feels safe in her own body.
The woman whose presence signals peace.

You are allowed to be powerful and peaceful.
You are allowed to function from grace, not grind.

Give yourself permission to just be.
And get around women who are living, not just surviving.

✨ Are you a high-functioning woman too?

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When the World Fell Apart

If I had to name 2020 in one word, it would be disruption.

A global pandemic.
The murders of innocent Black lives.
Political unrest.
A mental-health crisis that touched nearly every home.

But the disruption wasn’t just global; it was personal.

I was 37, divorced, raising two boys in Baltimore, hundreds of miles from family and friends in Atlanta.

Everything in my life looked functional, but I was running on fumes—physically, emotionally, spiritually.
Somewhere between holding everything together, I had lost myself.

When Obedience Doesn’t Make Sense

Months before the world shut down, I came up with a crazy plan.
I’ve always loved Fort Lauderdale…close enough to life, but far enough from the noise.
I had vacationed there as a little girl and often as an adult.

I had already worked through all my practical plans: Plan A, Plan B, and Plan C. None of them worked.
At this point, I decided to stop being practical and start being honest about what I wanted.

When I first imagined moving, it was logical. I had booked a spring-break trip to scout neighborhoods, line up a job, and handle every detail I could think of.

But my plan didn’t account for the pandemic. It didn’t account for the other life circumstances that I was now navigating, and somehow in the midst of all this God began speaking clearly…
It was no longer an idea; it was an invitation.
God was telling me to go.

When Faith Feels Foolish

I wanted to obey, but I also wanted to understand.
I wanted guarantees, not whispers.
I wanted clarity before courage.

But God rarely gives both.
He gives a word, not a map.
A prompting, not a plan.

So I did what didn’t make sense.
I quit my life.

No job waiting.
No housing secured.
No friends or community nearby.
Just faith and two boys watching my every move.

I sold my car and almost everything I owned.
I bought three one-way plane tickets.
And I left Baltimore for Florida in the middle of a global pandemic when the headlines screamed stay put.

My mother thought I had lost it.
But I reminded her that every Bible she had ever given me was full of people who looked crazy on their way to destiny.

“By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go…” — Hebrews 11:8

When You Step Out and God Steps In

The first month, I rented an Airbnb sight unseen with no plan in place.

But something unexpected happened: every need was met.

I found a beautiful apartment located near the beach and within walking distance of numerous coffee shops and restaurants.
I found a car—the easiest purchase I have ever made.
I planned to take a few months off and start working again. I didn’t work for over a year and never missed a beat financially.

Bills were paid.
Opportunities appeared.
Provision came from unexpected places.

I still can’t fully explain it except to say: obedience funds itself.

I found a private Christian school for my boys—a small class of seven where they thrived.
I met a sweet neighbor who became my hangout friend.
We’d laugh, lounge by the pool, eat at different restaurants, and talk about real life.

Family visited.
We took trips.
I felt like an active participant in my life again, not just an active observer.

I began to breathe again.
The woman who had been surviving started to remember what living felt like.

When the World Was Masked, I Was Becoming Whole

While the world was putting masks on, I was finally taking my mask off.

I ran by the beach.
I cooked more than I ever had.
I served a small church plant with my gifts.
I hired a personal trainer and got in the best shape of my adult life.

For the first time in years, I wasn’t performing peace; I was experiencing it.

I was being the mother I wanted to be.
I was becoming the disciple, both student and teacher, God called me to be.
And for the first time, I was really that woman—not because of what I was doing, but because of who I was becoming from the inside out.

When Divine Disruption Becomes Deliverance

Looking back, I see it clearly.
The world’s disruption was God’s divine disruption in my life.

He used exhaustion to get my attention.
He used uncertainty to birth intimacy.
He used chaos to teach me calm.

Sometimes obedience won’t make sense.
Sometimes faith will make you look foolish.
But those are the moments when God rewrites your story.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding.” — Proverbs 3:5

✨ Reflection: A Faith That Looks Foolish

• What has God asked of you that doesn’t make sense on paper?

• Have you confused comfort with calling?

• Where are you waiting for clarity when God is waiting for your yes?

• Could your disruption be divine—a doorway into destiny?

Closing Words

Obedience will always cost something: comfort, control, or reputation, but it will never cost you what disobedience will.

Sometimes the life you’re praying for is waiting on the other side of your surrender.

I didn’t move because I was brave.
I moved because I was done trying to be my own savior.
And in that surrender, I learned this:
Sometimes the most radical faith looks like rest.

💌 A Call to You

What’s your “Go”?
What is God asking of you that terrifies you and thrills you at the same time?
Share it in the comments or message me privately…I’d love to pray for you.

I spent years begging God to reveal my purpose.
Journals full of prayers. Highlighted books stacked on my nightstand.
Personality tests, coaching—all of it.

I thought God was silent.
But He was speaking — I just couldn’t hear.
I expected an audible answer, a clear purpose statement, a divine job description.
Instead, He was inviting me to hear by seeing.

In one of my old journals during devotional time, I wrote:
“Father, is there anything you want to speak to me today?”

And I heard the Lord whisper back:

“Listen, daughter, to what you see.”

God was teaching me that His voice isn’t always audible …sometimes it’s visible.
He speaks through patterns, pivots, and moments we might overlook.

I’m not alone in this. Studies show that over 70 percent of Christians don’t know what they’re put on this earth to do.

I was a late purpose bloomer; not because I didn’t seek, but because I couldn’t see.
I couldn’t see my story.

What I Missed

Reason #1: I looked at my life one-dimensionally.
I could see the highs and the lows… but I missed the middle…
the years of development in the dark,
the patterns that only make sense after the fact,
the moments that seemed ordinary but were actually destiny shifts.

Reason #2: I wasn’t living my story—I was settling for survival.
Up until about five years ago, I was living a life I settled for, not one I had fully surrendered to.

You can’t see divine purpose while living in self-protection.

Becoming a Student of Story

Although I couldn’t see myself clearly, I was a student of everyone around me.
What started as curiosity became discernment.

As a little girl, reading books and writing in my journal were my two escape routes—my way of processing feelings, unmet needs, and unspoken desires.
Somewhere between reading other people’s stories and capturing my own, I fell in love with the art of story—and with helping women see the grace, gift, and essence of who they really are.

When I listen to women now, I’m always shaping their story in my head.
I’m listening for the uniqueness of who they are and the distinction of their path.
Helping women recognize the “aha” moments and unexpected pivots that revealed God’s sovereignty—that’s one of my greatest joys.

When you can see your story clearly, you stop running from your purpose.

Why This Matters Now

2020 was a pivot year—and we’re in another one right now.

High-visibility women are being called, chosen, or even forced into new environments—new levels of impact and influence.

Some of us who never wanted visibility are being called to media.
Others are shifting into new fields like education or entrepreneurship.

And when I listen to the stories behind these pivots, I see the same pattern:
God’s hand has been guiding the narrative all along.

You just couldn’t see it yet.

Reflection

What parts of your story have you downplayed because they didn’t seem “important”?
Maybe that’s the very place your next assignment is hiding.

Your story isn’t your setback…
it’s your secret weapon.

High-Visibility Women often wrestle with this question:

Am I called to be a #1 or a #2?

This is part of our struggle. The culture tells us we must always lead from the front, but the Kingdom shows us another pattern: one where both #1’s and #2’s are vital, powerful, and God-appointed.

But in either case, the enemy tries to make you doubt the assignment, question your worth, and dishonor the order God has established.

The Hidden Weight of a #2

The world dismisses you as “just support,” but the kingdom calls you essential.

• You may be just as gifted as the #1, but your excellence is proven in partnership.

• You become eyes, ears, hands, or the voice; whatever the assignment requires.

• You intercede, you absorb pressure, and you wrestle pride so it doesn’t turn into division.

• You may serve as a #2 for a season, as part of your refining process into a future #1. Or you may serve as a #2 for a lifetime impacting communities, cities, nations and generations though the world never knows your name.
  
  

The Crushing Fire of a #1

The world criticizes you, but they don’t see the cross you carry.

• You live under relentless opposition and betrayal.

• You die to yourself daily, more deeply than most believers ever will.

• You endure a long development phase from call → process → commissioning, and many never make it because they refuse to surrender to God’s timing and training.

• You carry scars of rejection, but God still calls you to trust and lead.

• You’re often the “wild one,” willing to obey when others shrink back, even at great personal cost.

God-Appointed vs. Self-Appointed

Here’s the deeper reality: you don’t choose these assignments…God does.

We cannot forget this truth: “God-Appointed” is not the same as self-appointed.

There is honor and favor associated with those who discern and acknowledge what God is doing. His ways are not our ways (Isaiah 55:8–9). Many are not where they should be simply because they dishonored those whom God appointed.

The world says, “Be whatever you want to be.” The Kingdom says, “Surrender to the assignment God has chosen for you.”

You don’t pick when you’re born. You don’t pick who you’re born to. You don’t pick your sex. You don’t pick your assignment. You surrender.

And here’s the irony: #2’s often wish they were #1’s, and #1’s often wish they could step back into the safety of being #2’s. But the question isn’t what do you prefer..it’s will you answer your true call, not the one you’d rather have?

When the World Gets It Backwards

Being a #2 doesn’t mean you surrender success. Many #2’s are high-level executives, entrepreneurs, or influencers in their own right. What they surrender is the largest, shiniest spotlight.

Some of the most powerful women I know are “stay-at-home” wives (#2’s) to prominent men. They don’t carry official titles in the world, but they are secret weapons, strategic guides, and spiritual anchors for their families and communities, shaping generations to come.

This is the upside-down way of the Kingdom; what looks small to the world often carries the greatest generational weight.

In fact, I believe the Lord is shaking up the professional lives of some successful women right now. He is calling many wives back into His order: re-prioritizing marriage and motherhood over career. Not because money doesn’t matter, but because He is opening new realms of wealth without toil and creating more opportunities for women to live and work as they were designed if they will answer this call.

Why This Work Matters

When we dismiss or dishonor #1’s and #2’s, we miss the very order through which God moves.

• Joseph and Daniel—#2’s who preserved nations and kingdoms.

• Bezalel and Oholiab—appointed by name as leader and assistant to build God’s dwelling place.

• Paul and Timothy—generational partnership that sustained the Church.

To be #1 or #2 is not about rank in the world’s eyes—it’s about divine order. And that order determines whether systems, families, and even nations stand or fall.

That’s why #1’s and #2’s, regardless of industry or assignment, need specialized support and training. As you move into higher levels of influence, it requires greater depth of understanding: unwritten rules, unusual alliances, and uncommon preparation.

The True Stakes

Some of us are out of alignment, not because we don’t know what to do, but because God is still working on our hearts to help us ask:

👉 Who am I called to be, and who am I called to serve?

Even if you don’t identify as a #1 or #2, you know them. Some of you have birthed them. Many of us will be called to cover and support them.

And when they move differently than you, don’t resent it…Recognize it. Honor it. Partner with it.

A Prayer for High-Visibility Women

Father,
I pray that Your daughters who are called to spaces of high visibility will now say yes to the call. May they discern clearly whether they are called to a #1 or #2 mantle. Give them courage to embrace the hidden labor, the misunderstood mantle, and the weight of their assignment—whether temporary or for a lifetime. Surround them with honor, order, and grace.

In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

✨ You are not “less than” if you are a #2. You are not “too much” if you are a #1. You are God-appointed. You are necessary.

👑 High-Visibility Women carry unique assignments and need specialized training. In the months ahead, I’ll be opening a private space for those ready to go deeper in this work. Stay tuned.

There are stories that I don’t rush to tell. But to understand my life and why I speak with conviction on certain things, context is necessary.

This space isn’t for clickbait. I’ve never been one to be messy online. I write publicly out of obedience to the Father—not for the approval or applause of man.

For years, I’ve been meeting women where they are:

• Executive women who look perfect on the outside but are unraveling inside; crushed by the weight of success in the world but the guilt and shame of failure at home.

• Leading ladies in ministry who are put on pedestals but don’t have safe spaces to process pain or betrayal.

• Women tricked and trampled by trauma: run down, run over, and left feeling like they’ve lost themselves.

• Young women with unique callings: who don’t have mentors, mothers, or guides to navigate a life most won’t understand.

I’ve been working on my own healing and growth, and I’ve been helping other women do the same: sharing stories, unpacking pain, identifying purpose markers, strategizing next steps, and cheering them into their next season.

A Failed Marriage

I was the little girl who dreamed of being a wife and mother, not the wedding, not the flowers, but the family.

My 11+ year marriage ended in 2017. It wasn’t impulsive; it was intentional. I had prayed. Sought godly counsel. Read books. Gone to therapy. Sacrificed. Fought. I even joined a support group for Christian wives.

When I filed for divorce, it was a clear decision for my sanity, my safety, and the stability of my children.

I am not an advocate for divorce—but I am an advocate for the wellbeing of women.

The Lord told me: “It’s not the bottom; it’s the beginning.” I live by this because I’ve walked it.

Healing & Preparation

After the divorce, I stumbled along for several years, figuring out how to rebuild my life financially and emotionally and how to cast a vision for a reality that I didn’t expect.

In 2019, I began praying that God would send healthy role models for my sons. He answered. But the miracle wasn’t just in the men who appeared—it was in how God healed and restored me through them.

Black Men Broke Me…And Built Me

I had been overlooked, disrespected, and taken advantage of by men who should have loved and protected me. Black men broke me. And yet, God used Black men to rebuild me.

Through godly Black men, I received:

• Wise counsel about finances

• Practical help for my sons

• Spiritual mentorship and guidance

• Encouragement, acknowledgment, and respect

Even men who were strangers carried on conversations that challenged, corrected, or inspired me. These men weren’t taking from me, they were restoring what had been stolen in childhood and marriage.

God had a man in mind for me…but I had to heal, prepare, and position myself first.

Standards That Were Set

When I was younger, trauma and shame kept me from demanding the love I deserved. Here’s what I committed to as part of my preparation:

• No continued conversation with broken men. For the life of me, I can’t understand why 35+ women are still carrying that “Let me just see” energy.

• Refusing to be the “Plan B” woman…if I wasn’t his first choice, I wasn’t his choice because he wouldn’t be mine.

• Shared values, interests, and lifestyle alignment. Some women are unclear on what they want or where they fit, and then they date haphazardly.

• Putting a lock on my hotbox (Chileee…..I may host a Zoom call for this)

• Inner work: therapy and journaling, to maintain boundaries but still show kindness and respect to men, even when they weren’t for me.

• Filtering every man through the lens of purpose: Would I be an ideal helpmeet for his life and calling? Would he help or hinder mine?

I made a list of non-negotiables, but ultimately, it was my surrender to Christ that produced the discernment and strength to position myself for a godly husband.

Resources That Guided Me

• Therapy—non-negotiable for myself and any man I would consider.

• Bishop R.C. Blakes (YouTube + books)—practical wisdom for women.

• God Is a Matchmaker – Derek Prince—how God prepares you for marriage.

• Understanding the Purpose & Power of Women/Men – Dr. Myles Munroe—foundational kingdom teaching.

• Marriage Matters + For Married Women Only – Tony Evans—short, practical, transformational reads best digested before marriage.

The Cheat Code: Accountability

We love community. We love friendship. But accountability? Many shy away.

Accountability requires ownership and submitting to counsel that can see what you cannot.

In 2020, God gave me a true pastor, a father figure, who prayed, counseled, and vetted any man who seriously desired to know me. His wisdom, experience, and spiritual authority made it nearly impossible to get it wrong.

The Beginning Again

My prayer is simple: fewer single women, more well-loved wives.

If you’re standing at your own beginning, after heartbreak, betrayal, or loss, don’t give up. God restores. But restoration requires:

• Healing

• Standards

• Accountability

Your obedience today is the seed for your next season. Your beginning carries more weight than you realize.

Are you in a season of preparation? Do you resonate with my process? What steps are you taking to position yourself for the love and life God has for you?

As a child, I often felt like an active observer in my own life.
I could see others clearly…their gifts, their goals, their well-planned aspirations. But I couldn’t see myself.

I remember playing with Barbie dolls and doing the “normal” things: cutting hair, changing clothes. Yet I’d find myself wondering, what’s the chemical composition of this doll’s rubber, and why is it so different from a tire or a rubber band?

That was me, curious about how things worked and how people worked.
I was different.

I didn’t understand it then, but distinction develops over time. And often, you are the last person to recognize your own.

Early Lessons

By 19, I was leading a corporate team of 15 in the financial services industry. That job became my first professional turning point. I learned quickly:

• There’s a difference between leading with authority and leading with influence.

• Many people want to contribute minimally but receive maximum results.

• No matter how much education, experience, or results you get, your credibility will always be questioned.

When my department closed, I was offered a Finance & HR role. Suddenly, I was managing millions of dollars in warehouse credit lines and processing complex payroll before I was even old enough to legally drink.

I didn’t know it then, but this was God shaping my lane. Finance wasn’t it. I wanted to understand money, but I didn’t want to punch numbers all day. What gripped me was people, their potential, their problems, their patterns.

The Appearance of Success

By my early 20s, I had:

• Bought a home

• Got married

• Gone back to graduate school and finished with honors

But inside, I was a ticking time bomb.

I had work before I had worth.
I became a wife before I became a woman.
I became a mother while my inner child was still shattered.

I looked whole on paper, but I was broken on the inside.

Identity Before Purpose

Here’s what I know now that I didn’t know then….when life blindsides you: career shifts, infidelity, betrayal, loss…the situation is never just about what happened. It’s about deeper needs and unmet expectations beneath the surface.

I chased accolades, but I didn’t chase becoming.
I wanted purpose, but I didn’t have a sense of identity.

And this is why Purpose Principle #1 matters:
Purpose isn’t the problem. Identity is.

Until you know who you are, you’ll confuse what you do with who you are.

Your wiring. Your gifts. Your grace. These are the breadcrumbs to purpose.
But identity is the table it all rests on.

💭 Reflection
Have you ever chased purpose, only to realize what you were really searching for was identity all along?

👉 This is the first in my Purpose Principles series. Subscribe so you don’t miss the next one, and share this with a woman who needs the reminder that her becoming matters more than her doing.