A Rising Remnant

Category: Faith, Healing, Testimony, Inner Healing, Christian Womanhood, Growth, Vulnerability.

  • Torn Between Two Loves: Sin and Savior

    Torn Between Two Loves: Sin and Savior

    My honest wrestle with sin and spiritual loyalty

    The Conflict of Two Loves

    As much as I hate to admit it, I’ve been unfaithful to my Savior. More often than I care to admit.

    It’s not that I don’t care. It’s not that I don’t love Him, because I do. Because of Jesus, I’ve been able to experience a real and personal relationship with God. A love that reminds me I’m seen, chosen, and deeply known.

    The kind of love that covers shame, quiets fear, and heals places I didn’t even know were bleeding.

    It’s beautiful, but it also comes with a cost. A cost that requires me to crucify my flesh daily and walk away from what once comforted me. Because on the other side of that beauty is real darkness. A devil that hates the love God has for His children. And because he hates it, he attacks it.

    He feeds the sinful nature inside all of us, the part that craves gratification, attention, escape. The part that wants what it wants right now. And if you’re not watchful, if you slip, if you’re tired or vulnerable, it creeps in. Quietly. Quickly. Convincingly.

    It’ll sound like:

    “Just this once.”

    “God will forgive you.”

    “No one has to know.”

    But that’s the trick. The enemy’s only real power is deception. And deception, when believed, leads to disobedience.

    The Allure of Sin

    Sin doesn’t always show up looking like a red flag. Sometimes it shows up dressed in comfort, in old habits, in desires that whisper, “This will make you feel better.” It doesn’t come as a threat, it comes as a relief. A temporary escape. A numbing agent.

    For me, sin often comes when I’m tired. Weary. Waiting on God and wondering if He hears me. And before I know it, I find myself entertaining thoughts, habits, or even people that I’ve already told God I was done with. I’ve cried real tears over wanting to be better… wanting to honor God with my body, with my choices, with my loyalty, but then I find myself going back to what I know leads me further from Him.

    Sin is patient. It waits until the moment you’re spiritually dry, emotionally vulnerable, or just hungry for affection, attention, or control. And when it finds an opening, it doesn’t ask permission. It slides in like an old lover who knows just what to say.

    And the worst part? Sometimes I say yes.

    The Rationalization and Rebellion

    “I’ll repent later.”

    “I’ve already done it before, what’s one more time?”

    “I’m human.”

    I’ve used every excuse in the book to justify going back to things I know break God’s heart and mine too, honestly. It’s not just rebellion… it’s self-betrayal. Because every time I choose sin, I betray the healed, whole, obedient version of me that I’ve been praying to become.

    And yet… God doesn’t stop loving me.

    That’s what makes this so complex.

    The same love that should anchor me… sometimes becomes the thing I take for granted.

    The Hidden Cost

    Sin doesn’t send an invoice right away. It waits.

    At first, everything feels good, even freeing. But later… comes the shame. The distance. The confusion. The heavy silence in prayer. The feeling that I can’t look Jesus in the eyes, not because He turned away from me, but because I’m hiding, like Adam and Eve in the garden.

    Sin has cost me clarity, peace, spiritual confidence, and time. It’s made me question whether I’ll ever really change. Whether I’m capable of true commitment to Christ. It’s made me feel like a fraud even while leading or encouraging others.

    But grace won’t stop chasing me.

    The Turning Point

    There’s no single dramatic moment I can point to where everything shifted. For me, it’s been a series of quiet convictions. The kind of conviction that doesn’t shame me, but gently pulls me back to the feet of Jesus. The Holy Spirit doesn’t yell, He whispers.

    Sometimes, the turning point looks like me deleting a number. Saying “no” when my body wants to say “yes.” Being honest in prayer and saying, “God, I still want this… help me not to.”

    And sometimes, the turning point is just getting back up after I fall.

    Coming Back Home

    I’ve learned that repentance isn’t about perfection. It’s about posture.

    God isn’t asking for flawless behavior, He’s asking for a loyal heart.

    And loyalty looks like showing up, even after I’ve messed up.

    It looks like surrendering again and again.

    It looks like trusting that Jesus already paid for my failures, and I don’t have to keep paying for them with shame.

    Every time I return to Him, I find open arms.

    Not punishment. Not distance.

    But grace. Healing. Renewal.

    And somehow… He still calls me His.

    Final Reflection: Torn, But Choosing Love

    I don’t write this from a place of having arrived, I’m still on the journey. I still get tempted. I still feel weak sometimes. But I’m learning how to fight differently. I’m learning how to recognize the lie before I agree with it. I’m learning how to choose God, not just because He loves me, but because I love Him back.

    And that love? It’s worth protecting.

    If you’re struggling like me, torn between what you know is right and what your flesh still craves, you’re not alone. And you’re not too far gone.

    God sees your heart. He sees the effort. The tears. The wrestling.

    Keep coming back to Him.

    Every time you do, He’ll still be there… arms open, heart ready, grace fully available.

    Reflection Question:

    Do I love God enough to walk away from what keeps separating me from Him?

    Prayer

    Lord, I don’t want to keep choosing what pulls me away from You.

    Give me the strength to walk away from what feels good, but harms my soul.

    Remind me of Your love when I feel weak and help me to love You more than I love my comfort, my habits, or my desires.

    Don’t allow me to have peace with the things that try to keep me separate from you.

    Thank You for never giving up on me, even when I’ve wandered.

    Today, I choose You again.

    Amen.

  • God, Don’t Let Me Have Peace with Crumbs:

    God, Don’t Let Me Have Peace with Crumbs:

    The Honest Truth About What I’ve Settled For

    ⸻

    There’s a part of me that wants to feel sure.

    Sure that I’m ready.

    Sure that this connection is aligned.

    Sure that I can trust what I feel.

    But lately, I’ve been in a quiet wrestle.

    One I finally have the words for… even if they still tremble coming out.

    I often pray…

    “God, don’t let me have peace about this if it’s not Your will.”

    He’s done just that!

    Because peace is what I want, but not the kind I create on my own by ignoring red flags or rushing past His whisper.

    ⸻

    The Wrestle Between Wanting and Waiting

    I’ve grown. I’m not who I was.

    I’m more aware, more grounded, more honest.

    But even with all that growth, I still find myself asking;

    Am I truly ready, or just tired of waiting?

    Is this real, or just familiar comfort in a new form?

    I don’t want to make decisions from desire alone.

    But sometimes, desire is loud.

    Sometimes I start to fantasize about potential before I’ve fully discerned presence.

    Sometimes, honesty feels risky, especially when I’m not even sure where I land with what I feel yet.

    ⸻

    This Time, I’m Trying to Listen Sooner

    I can’t say I always catch it in the beginning.

    Sometimes I still want to believe the best so badly that I hesitate to ask the hard questions.

    But I’m trying… slowly, intentionally, and honestly… to listen sooner.

    To lean in when the Holy Spirit nudges.

    To not dismiss that tight feeling in my chest.

    To not call something peace if I had to bury my voice to get it.

    Because I’ve been there often.

    I’ve ignored the signs.

    I’ve made the red flags not appear so bad.

    I’ve mistaken comfort and chemistry for confirmation.

    And the aftermath?

    It wasn’t just heartbreak.

    It was a deep, soul-wearing unrest I had to cry and claw my way out of.

    So now, even though I’m still learning…

    Even though some days I’m shaky with it…

    I find myself praying…

    “God, don’t let me settle into a false peace.”

    Don’t let me get comfortable in something You never called me to.

    Help me feel it early even if it hurts.

    Even if it costs me company.

    Even if I don’t fully understand it yet.”

    ⸻

    I’m Still Learning to Trust My Clarity

    I’m not always confident.

    Sometimes I question whether what I’m sensing is discernment or fear.

    Sometimes I wonder if I’m just scared to hope again.

    But even in that… I’m showing up more honestly than I ever have.

    I’m not trying to be guarded.

    I’m not trying to push people away.

    I’m trying to stay faithful to what I’ve prayed for.

    And that means I can’t pretend I don’t notice what I notice.

    I’m tired of performing healed-ness just to make other people comfortable.

    I want to be able to say, “this doesn’t feel right,” without feeling dramatic.

    I want to be seen clearly…. not as complicated, but as careful.

    I want my heart to be seen and not misunderstood.

    Because even though I’m still learning to trust my clarity…

    I know what it feels like to silence it.

    And I never want to go back there again.

    ⸻

    When I Stopped Believing I Deserved More

    I’ve been asking myself hard questions lately.

    Like, why do I even entertain what I know I shouldn’t?

    Why do I feel this tension between what I know is true… and what I still find myself drawn to?

    And the honest answer I’ve had to face is this:

    Somewhere along the way, I stopped believing I would actually get what I longed for.

    I stopped believing that someone would see me and choose me. Choose me with intention, with pursuit and with consistency.

    I started to believe that what I desired was asking for too much.

    And because I started believing it, I stopped expecting it.

    So instead of waiting on something real, I settled for almost.

    I settled for “maybe one day.”

    I accepted crumbs and sometimes not even the crumbs, just the dust from where crumbs used to be.

    And I convinced myself it was enough, hoping that if I just gave it time, they’d eventually become what I needed.

    But here’s the truth…

    I knew. I just made a choice. 

    Even in the early days… I knew.

    I could feel it wasn’t right.

    I felt the nudges.

    I felt the pullback in my spirit.

    I knew when I should’ve left, should’ve slowed down, should’ve asked harder questions.

    But I didn’t.

    Instead, I stayed.

    I leaned in when I should’ve pulled back.

    I accepted the sprinkle of crumb dust and ignored the Holy Spirit’s nudge, over and over and over again…

    Until it no longer even affected me.

    And when you get to the place where the wrong thing starts to feel normal, that’s when you know belief has been broken somewhere deep.

    Because when you stop believing that real love is possible for you…

    You stop protecting your heart like it’s worth something sacred.

    You start handing out access hoping to be chosen… when God already called you chosen before anyone ever had the chance to prove it.

    ⸻

    I’m Not Asking for Too Much, Just the Right Match

    So if I need to pause… even awkwardly,

    If I need to step back and take a breath,

    If I need to re-evaluate the access someone has to my time or my heart…

    I’ll do that.

    Not because I have it all figured out.

    But because I’m trying to obey… while I’m still becoming.

    I don’t always get it perfect.

    But I don’t want to ignore conviction just to avoid being alone.

    This isn’t about fear.

    It’s about discernment.

    It’s about staying rooted in the healing that God has started in me, even if it hasn’t fully bloomed yet.

    Because I’ve realized:

    Clarity may not always feel comfortable, but it is kind.

    And so is God.

    ⸻

    To the Woman in the Middle of the Wait

    If you’re here too, wrestling with what to feel, how to move, what to say…

    You’re not alone.

    And your confusion isn’t a sign that you’re broken.

    It’s a sign that you care.

    Be honest.

    Be prayerful.

    Be still if you need to.

    And ask boldly…

    “God, if this isn’t Your will… don’t let me have peace about it.”

    Let His “no” interrupt what your flesh wants to protect.

    Let His silence speak louder than your emotions.

    Let His peace be your compass… not your escape.

    Because what’s meant for you will never ask you to betray the healed version of you to keep it.

  • Grace in the Middle of the Mess: When Conviction, Struggle & Favor Collide

    Grace in the Middle of the Mess: When Conviction, Struggle & Favor Collide

    And God’s Love covers a multitude of sins!

    I know it’s been a minute since I’ve written anything. I didn’t even realize that it had been nearly a month since I last posted. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to… honestly, I became spiritually and emotionally exhausted. I was struggling and I didn’t know how to handle it. I’ve walked through some things in my life, but this time… I had no words to express how I was feeling.

    It’s been one of those seasons that humbles you… the kind that brings everything to the surface. Convictions. Old wounds. Silent battles. Even the habits you thought you were done with.

    And just when you think you’re getting a handle on things… regret, confusion and frustration start resurfacing. And you start to sink. It felt like nothing I was doing, was good enough.

    “And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.”— Galatians 6:9

    I definitely grew weary in my well doing… and for a while I slipped back into what felt familiar.

    Because of how heavy and weighty I felt spiritually emotionally and mentally, I let my emotions hop back in the driver seat and I broke my vow of abstinence. And I haven’t fully come out of it. I’m struggling with it if I can be transparent and real.

    And I’ve felt and still feel the weight of that.

    For a while I tried avoiding God because everything in me wanted to make me believe that I couldn’t be redeemed.

    Guilt and shame were too loud to ignore in my mind.

    But I still felt God’s presence more tenderly than I expected.

    Even though I was going through it internally, I never fully gave up.

    There were moments I felt like I was barely hanging on mentally, emotionally, spiritually, but deep down, I was warring for my mind. My thoughts were loud, telling me my world was caving in, that everything was too much.

    But I knew focusing on that would only sink me deeper. I had to shift my focus to God. Because I’ve studied His character. I know He doesn’t put more on me than I can bear. So if I was in it… it meant He allowed it.

    That didn’t make it easy, but it did remind me that there was purpose in the pain. A lesson to be learned. And knowing who He is, that’s what kept me from falling apart.

    And It’s wild how I can be feeling so low, wrestling with guilt and shame and at the same time… God is still being good to me. He’s still making a way. Still covering me. Still showing me favor in ways I know I didn’t earn.

    I’ve cried.

    I’ve asked for forgiveness.

    I’ve questioned.

    I’ve sat in silence.

    And still… I’ve been kept.

    It’s weird to hold all of that at once the struggle, the favor, the discipline, and the love. But that’s where I’ve been.

    This season is stretching me.

    And honestly? Some days it feels like I’m being broken and built at the same time.

    I’ve been in places where I’ve asked God, “Are You still with me?”

    And His answer came in small ways: through peace, through provision, through gentle conviction that didn’t condemn me but called me back.

    The truth is…

    I’ve been distant. But He hasn’t been.

    He never stopped pursuing me, even when I wasn’t showing up consistently.

    And that alone is enough to bring me to tears.

    Let me say this loud for the people in the back…

    My testimony is not just for me. Somebody is attached to what I’m walking through. Attached to my pain, My heartbreak, My struggle, My trauma, My forgiveness, My breakthrough, And even this unexpected favor that has shown up in the middle of it all.

    So I can’t keep silent just because I haven’t “arrived.”

    This is real-time healing and faith.

    This is what healing while still walking it out looks like.

    If you’re in a space where you feel like you’ve messed up too much, or you’re too behind to get it right again, hear me and hear me good… YOU ARE NOT TOO FAR GONE!

    God isn’t finished. Philippians 1:6

    Even when we slip, He doesn’t let go. Psalm 34:18

    Even in the mess, He still sees purpose. Romans 8:28

    So no, I don’t have it all figured out.

    But I’m still held.

    Still called.

    Still chosen.

    Still His.

    And that… that’s grace.

    Final Thought:

    I’m learning not to count myself out just because I’m not done healing.

    God’s still moving… even in my mess.

    A Prayer for the One Who’s Barely Holding On

    Lord, I need You.

    Not in a casual way.

    Not in a “sometimes” kind of way.

    I need You like I need water. Like breath.

    Because right now, I’m overwhelmed.

    I feel empty.

    I’m drowning in guilt.

    Wrestling with shame.

    And if I’m honest… sadness has been sitting heavy on my chest for a while now.

    Sometimes I wonder if I’ve messed up too many times.

    Like maybe I’ve exhausted Your grace.

    And I know You’re God and You already know everything I’m feeling, but still… I find myself shutting down.

    Pulling back.

    Hiding.

    Part of me feels like You’re tired of me.

    Like maybe You’ve given up on me.

    And I hate feeling that way, but it’s real and it’s how I feel .

    I don’t feel worthy of Your love.

    Or any good thing from You.

    But God, I don’t want to stay stuck here.

    Help me not to cave in when those dark thoughts come.

    Help me not to shut the world out or pretend I’m okay when I’m not.

    Instead of turning inward, help me to turn to You.

    Help me to remember who You are.

    You’re not a God who shames.

    You’re not holding a clipboard of all my failures.

    You don’t stop loving me when I fall.

    Your love… is steady.

    Your grace… doesn’t run out.

    So Lord, forgive me.

    I’ve messed up.

    And I probably will again.

    But I want to do better.

    I want to honor You with my life, even in the messy, broken parts.

    Thank You for undeserved favor.

    Thank You for not giving up on me.

    Even when I feel like giving up on myself.

    In Jesus’ name,

    Amen.

  • The Picture-Perfect Illusion

    The Picture-Perfect Illusion

    Freedom, whether physical or mental, is a gift—LT

    The Dream Come True

    I remember the day I bought my first house. Seven months after moving away, it was finally closing day. I remember pulling into the driveway and running into my new neighbor’s mom.

    I was never one to show much excitement, and to be completely honest, I felt kind of unsettled—almost worried even. Though those feelings were there, I still felt a sense of accomplishment… satisfaction, as I stood there talking to her. I was proud of myself deep down, even if I wouldn’t allow myself to show it. I had worked so hard, saved, and sacrificed to get there.

    This wasn’t just any house—this was my home—that I bought! I did that! I remembered being a kid, riding around with my mom and siblings through nice neighborhoods, admiring the big houses.

    My young eyes were full of hope, imagining that one day, we could live in a house like that. Later, in high school, my social studies teacher, Coach Booth, taught us about the value of real estate:

    “If you’re gonna buy a house, buy a brick house… it’s gonna last you longer,” he’d say.

    Growing up, I watched my mom struggle, taking care of five kids. I hated that we struggled, and I always told myself, “This wouldn’t be my life when I got older.”

    My whole existence after 2018, up until that moment, was about breaking generational cycles. I had reclaimed that declaration I made as a little girl. I did it. I had finally arrived—or so I thought.

    I had a good job making great money. I had the house. My kids were finally coming to live with me after their dad and I agreed they would stay behind until I found a place to stay and got settled. I would tell them often:

    “This is only temporary. I’m providing a better life for us.”

    I was tired of singing the same old tune—always having to tell them “no” or “I don’t have it.” All I cared about was making a better life for us.

    The Picture-Perfect Illusion

    It was all coming together now. Everything was supposed to be perfect.

    But it didn’t take long for that picture-perfect illusion I was piecing together to start falling apart. My great job didn’t see me as useful anymore. They never let me go, but they cut my hours, and money started to dry up.

    Instead of leaving, I stayed—hoping my hours would pick back up, thinking things would get better. But they never did. My pride kept me from reaching out for help, and I slipped further behind on my mortgage.

    I ignored all of God’s warning signs, thinking I could figure it out on my own. But threats of foreclosure showed up in my mailbox, and the panic set in.

    Grasping at Control

    “Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.” —Proverbs 16:18 (KJV)

    Desperation has a way of clouding your judgment—making something that may not be the best advice sound good. I grabbed onto the first solution I heard because I was hellbent on keeping my house.

    I just couldn’t let it go. All the long hours I put into that house, the tears that no one saw… months of hard work and dedication to make my dream a reality. I thought I was breaking generational cycles. But everything I was working for was slipping away, and I couldn’t look like a failure.

    I was too ashamed, too afraid, and too embarrassed of being judged. I was willing to trade my peace just to save a house I had no real peace about to begin with—just to save face.

    “What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul?” —Matthew 16:26 (NIV)

    The Sacrifice

    That pride I once had turned into embarrassment. As I walked into the cold lawyer’s office, with tears streaming down my face, all I could think was:

    “How did I get here? I can’t believe I’m filing bankruptcy.”

    I felt like such a failure. I had worked so hard, and it was all crashing down around me. But I was still too proud to admit to anyone how bad things were.

    So, I made another heart-wrenching decision—I sent my kids back to their dad. I told myself it was so they could be stable while I figured things out. But deep down, it felt like proof that I couldn’t provide for them.

    That’s when I decided to go to trucking school to get my CDL—a surefire way to make more money. I was focused on fixing my situation, not understanding the emotional impact it would have on my sons.

    Even though I felt like I was doing the right thing, trying to provide for them meant sacrificing more time away from them.

    Losing Myself in Shame

    I was desperate to prove anyone wrong who thought I had made a mistake by moving. I needed to prove I wasn’t a failure. So I buried my struggle behind forced smiles and silence.

    I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was choosing money over my sons, money over my peace, and money over trusting God. Pride and the need to be in control wouldn’t allow me to let God in.

    When my children’s father remarried, I could have curled up and died—not because he was remarrying, but because it felt like I was being replaced as a mother.

    I was jealous, and I started questioning myself:

    Am I a bad mother? Do my kids love her more than me? Is it better for them if they have her in their life? Who even am I anymore?

    I became consumed with guilt, overly apologetic to my kids, trying to be the agreeable co-parent. But honestly, trying to go above and beyond just made me feel worse.

    But Then, Truth Broke Through

    December 2024—God began to show me that even in my mess, even in my mistakes, He never left me.

    I used to think that surrendering to God meant my problems would disappear. But He showed me that surrendering doesn’t mean avoiding suffering—it means having His strength to endure it.

    “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” —Psalm 34:18 (NIV)

    I wasn’t failing—I was being refined. He was using the very thing I was ashamed of to teach me humility, to strip me of my pride, and to draw me closer to Him.

    “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.” —Romans 8:28 (NIV)

    I’m not going to pretend I have it all together, because I don’t. I’m very much still going through the process, but the difference now is that I give all my worries to God.

    “Do not be anxious about anything, in everything by supplication and prayer with thanksgiving, make your request be made known and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” —Philippians 4:6-7 (ESV)

    No More Hiding

    This journey isn’t about me being perfect. This journey is about me being honest—with myself, with others, and most importantly, with God.

    I’m still learning, I’m still healing, but now I’m doing it His way.

    Reflection:

    Looking back, I’ve realized something powerful—when you love something so much that you’ll go to any length just to keep it, it has become an idol in your life.

    “You shall have no other gods before me.” —Exodus 20:3 (NIV)

    Everything I was doing was rooted in pride and selfishness. I lost sight of what was most important. When it’s all said and done, my children are what’s important to me. Whether they’re here with me or not.

    A Message to You:

    If you’re reading this and you’ve ever felt ashamed of your struggles—if you’ve ever hidden behind pride or felt too far gone to turn back to God—I want you to know you’re not alone. I’ve been there. I’m still walking through it. But there’s hope even in the mess.

    God isn’t waiting for you to have it all together; He’s waiting for you to invite Him into the broken pieces. You don’t have to pretend to be strong—real strength is found in surrender. 

    So let go of the shame. Let go of the pride. And know that He is near, ready to walk with you, heal you, and bring peace that doesn’t even make sense in the midst of your storm.

    A Prayer For You to Keep

    Lord, we come to You, honest and humbled, asking for your forgiveness for letting pride keep us hiding and shame keep us silent.

    Lord, sometimes pride makes us pretend we’re fine, and shame tells us we’re not enough. But we need You. Remind us that You are near to the brokenhearted, that Your strength is made perfect in our weakness, and that Your love is greater than our fear.

    Help us let go of the need to prove ourselves. Teach us to be honest—with You, with others, and with ourselves. Let Your peace, which surpasses all understanding, guard our heart and mind.

    And please, Lord, take my story—no matter how messy—and use it for Your glory. Show me that nothing in my life is too broken for You to heal. Thank You for never giving up on us.

    In your Holy name, Jesus,

    Amen.

    If this post resonated with you, I’d love to hear your story. You can always stay anonymous, this is a safe space and judgment free zone.

    Remember healing is a journey, not a destination and you’re not walking this healing journey alone.

    New blog posts drop every Wednesday at 12 PM! Come back weekly for encouragement, faith-building truths, and real stories of healing and hope.

  • God Pulled Me Out of My Shell

    God Pulled Me Out of My Shell

    “When I stopped shrinking, I started healing.” —LT

    I didn’t mean to start my blog so soon.

    Honestly, I had everything drafted and scheduled, but I still wasn’t ready to release it yet. I just needed someone to tell me it was “good enough” and then I’d publish it. But somehow I forgot about the schedule, and it posted without me realizing it.

    I panicked.

    And I almost deleted it.

    Almost.

    But something whispered,

    “You never know what God will do.”

    That moment changed everything.

    Week by week, blog after blog, I’ve been writing through stories I thought I had already healed from… wounds I assumed were closed. But with each post, God has been peeling back layers I didn’t know were still there. Each blog has become a mirror, forcing me to sit with myself, reflect, and finally bring things to Him that I once tried to handle alone.

    ⸻

    A Question That Broke Me Open

    Last week, someone sent me a set of reflection questions, and one of them stopped me in my tracks:

    “How do I respond when I feel rejected, unseen, or misunderstood?

    Am I able to process those feelings without spiraling or attaching the treatment to my identity?”

    Mmm… man, did that hit deep. Especially the first question.

    Because the truth is, I’d always gone inward, like a crab in its shell or a turtle hiding inside itself.

    So I didn’t even recognize when I felt misunderstood or unseen, I naturally drew inward. I just did it. It felt comforting. A lot easier than expressing myself. I didn’t know how to sit with those emotions without spiraling. I didn’t know how to stop myself from questioning my worth. Instead, I would shut down or start pushing people away, because I didn’t know how to communicate my needs in a healthy way. It felt easier not to deal with it at all.

    In that moment, I realized something:

    I wasn’t just answering a question.

    I was being healed.

    ⸻

    When God Shows You You

    God was using reflection to show me how deeply I longed to be seen. Not just acknowledged, but truly known. And not just by people, but by Him.

    “You have searched me, Lord, and you know me.”

    — Psalm 139:1 (NIV)

    That one moment unraveled something in me. It exposed how much of my life had been shaped by a hidden ache to be understood, to be heard, to be noticed without having to beg for it.

    It brought up memories of times when I was intentionally being mischievous just to be seen. It reminded me of the moments I shrunk myself just to feel accepted.

    But God never asked me to shrink.

    He asks me to trust.

    And then… through someone’s simple act of kindness, someone who had no idea what I was walking through, God reminded me what I needed most:

    Safety. Affirmation. Gentleness.

    Not performance. Not perfection.

    Just presence.

    “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

    — Psalm 34:18 (NIV)

    ⸻

    The Weight of Feeling Unseen

    It’s wild how one question can pull up decades of emotion.

    I realized that this feeling of being unseen had impacted how I show up in every space, family, friendships, relationships, and even in my faith. I’ve spent so much of my life trying to prove I was worth seeing, hoping someone would look past my facade of strength and see my heart.

    My real heart.

    The one that’s tender. Pure. Intentional. Not perfect, but full of desire for hope and healing.

    In the middle of that unraveling, God started showing me… me.

    Not the strong version I carry.

    Not the “put-together” one I wear for the world.

    But the buried version.

    The little girl who just wanted to be known and needed to feel safe.

    And He didn’t come through a sermon.

    He didn’t send some loud sign.

    He came through reflection. Through writing.

    Through a blog I didn’t even mean to start yet.

    Because He knew that’s what it would take to reach me.

    ⸻

    The Power of Being Seen by God

    “Even the hairs of your head are all numbered. So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.”

    — Luke 12:7 (NIV)

    Being seen by God doesn’t just comfort me, it’s changing me from the inside out.

    Because when He sees me, I begin to see myself clearly too.

    Not through the lenses of people’s perception of me, but through the truth of His love.

    He’s not just healing me.

             He’s revealing me.

    He’s lifting the weight I didn’t know I was still carrying.

    And in return, He’s giving me identity.

    Wholeness.

    Peace.

    ⸻

    Philippians 1:6 — The Thread Through It All

    I didn’t realize it at the time, but when that first blog post went live, God was initiating something holy:

    “And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.”

    ‭‭—Philippians‬ ‭1‬:‭6‬ ‭(ESV‬‬)

    This blog isn’t just a platform.

    It’s a place where God is finishing what He started.

    He’s digging up the buried parts of me, dusting them off, and reminding me:

    You’re not invisible. You never were.

    ⸻

    Three Scriptures for the Unseen

    Psalm 139:1–2 (NIV)

    “You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar.”

    (God sees the real you… even the parts you’ve hidden from yourself.)

    Isaiah 43:1 (NLT)

    “Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you. I have called you by name; you are mine.”

    (You’re not a burden or a mistake… you are His. Fully claimed and deeply loved.)

    Romans 8:26 (NLT)

    “The Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness… the Spirit prays for us with groanings that cannot be expressed in words.”

    (Even when you don’t know how to express your pain, God hears the cry of your heart.)

    ⸻

    You Are Worth Being Seen

    If you’ve ever felt unseen… by family, by friends, even in your faith walk, I want you to know:

    You are not invisible.

    You are not too much.

    You are not forgotten.

    You are chosen.

    You are known.

    You are worth being seen.

    And here’s what I want you to know too:

    God’s transformation in me hasn’t just healed me, I’ve been renewed.

    I used to have no fight in me. I’d shut down.

    But now? I run to Him with my pain, my confusion, my cries for help. I don’t retreat, I lean in.

    And I look forward to the tests, because I know breakthrough lives on the other side of them.

    Where I once saw no light, I now see hope.

    Where my foundation used to crumble, I now stand on solid Rock.

    This space I’m in?

    It’s sacred.

    And I want to stay here.

    God has made me more loving, more patient, more caring.

    He’s not just doing a good work in me, He’s doing a beautiful one.

    And that’s the kind of love that spills over into everything I do.

    So I’ll keep writing.

    Keep healing.

    Keep fighting.

    Because the woman He’s raising up in me…

    She’s no longer unseen.

    She’s chosen by grace. Equipped by the Father. And deeply loved by Him.

    ⸻

    A Prayer For The One Who’s Hurting

    Heavenly Father,

    I lift up every heart that feels unseen, misunderstood, or broken. Remind them that they are fully known and deeply loved by You.

    In their pain, may they feel Your presence like never before. Give them the courage to lay their burdens at Your feet and the faith to believe You are working even in the silence.

    Heal what’s hurting, speak peace over the chaos in their lives, and surround them with Your love. Remind them that their story is not over. You are still writing it.

    In Jesus’ name,

    Amen.

    ⸻

    If this post resonated with you, I’d love to hear your story.

    Remember healing is a journey, not a destination and you’re not walking this healing journey alone.

    You can read more or subscribe at A Rising Remnant.

  • Trust Was Broken Before I Knew His Name

    Trust Was Broken Before I Knew His Name

    “Healing the Wounds That Kept Me From Trusting God”

    When Trust Breaks, Faith Wavers

    Faith—the belief in something unseen or not yet experienced—is rooted in hope and conviction.

    Trust, on the other hand, is more relational. It’s developed over time through experience, consistency, and reliability.

    If you’re struggling to have faith, ask yourself: Why?

    Is it because deep down, you don’t really believe God will show up for you?

    Have you convinced yourself, maybe subconsciously, that you don’t deserve for Him to intervene in your life?

    Or have you built a wall so high to protect yourself that you’ve unknowingly reduced God to the same level as the people who hurt you—guarding your heart from even Him?

    Whatever your “why” is, I invite you to be curious. Ask God to show you the true issues of your heart. That’s what I had to do. And it started by letting Him take me all the way back to when my trust first began to break.

    “Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! See if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”—Psalm 139:23–24

    Where My Trust Issues Began

    When you’re a child, you don’t know what trust is—you just give it. Innocently. Freely. You believe the people in your life will protect you, love you, and keep you safe. Until one day, they don’t.

    For me, that breaking started early.

    When I was between 6 and 7, someone close to me tried to take my innocence. By the grace of God, they didn’t succeed.

    At 9, a neighbor tried the same thing. Again, they didn’t fully succeed.

    But when I was in high school—it happened.

    And later, after I moved away from my hometown to where I now live, it happened again.

    All of that, amongst other things, on top of not having my father in my life consistently, not being close to my mom, and clinging to unhealthy friendships and relationships, built a wall of broken trust around me. I carried a mentality that said, The world is full of people you can’t trust.

    Survival Mode Became My Normal

    I learned to survive by expecting the worst. I didn’t call it that then, but that’s what it was.

    I just wanted someone I could count on. Someone who wouldn’t use my vulnerability against me. But time after time, people proved untrustworthy, and so I adapted—I began to settle.

    I looked for reasons to overlook red flags in people just to convince myself I wasn’t expecting too much. Even in myself, if I didn’t expect much, then I wouldn’t feel the weight of disappointed as much.

    That’s how I learned to cope: by shrinking my expectations and pretending it didn’t hurt when people let me down, then blaming myself when it did. 

    This mindset followed me for years. Into friendships. Into romantic relationships. And, painfully, into my relationship with God.

    Struggling to Trust God’s Heart for Me

    Even after giving my life to Christ, as committed as I was to my relationship with God—I still struggled to believe that He would truly show up for me in the way I’d read about and seen Him show up for others.

    I thought maybe I wrestled too much with doubt, maybe I believed too little.

    Maybe that’s why He stayed silent sometimes. Maybe I was the problem.

    And the overthinking… my goodness, it drained me. It made me question everything, even my worth.

    And if I’m being honest, there are still days when I feel that way.

    I’m almost embarrassed to admit it, especially considering how kind and gracious God has been to me. I’m experiencing true healing. He’s brought me to a place emotionally and spiritually that I used to only dream of.

    So why do I still struggle to trust His heart for me?

    Why is it so hard to remember at times all He’s brought me through?

    My Peter Moment

    I think of Peter stepping out of the boat toward Jesus. As long as his eyes were on the Lord, he was steady. But the moment he focused on the wind and the waves, he sank.

    That’s exactly how I feel sometimes.

    When life is calm, I’m good. But when things get shaky, panic sets in. My flight response kicks in.

    Instead of remembering God’s faithfulness, I sink into fear and doubt.

    I made up in my mind that I wasn’t gonna live like that anymore.

    “You will keep in perfect peace all who trust in You, all whose thoughts are fixed on You.” —Isaiah 26:3 (NLT)

    I want my faith so deeply rooted, that even when doubt whispers in my ear, I know His presence is still near.

    Take It to Him

    One of the most powerful things I’ve learned in this season is that I can bring everything to God. I can bring my past to Him and He’ll help me release the memories and truly forgive.

    He’s not surprised by my struggles. He already knows, and yet He doesn’t reject me.

    Instead He invites me to bring my burdens and in return, He gives me rest.

    When I start to feel like I’m too much or not enough, I remember that I have a Savior who understands my weaknesses.

    “This High Priest of ours understands our weaknesses, for He faced all of the same testings we do, yet He did not sin. So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive His mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most.” —Hebrews 4:15–16 (NLT)

    Even when I feel faithless—He remains faithful.

    “If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot disown Himself.” —2 Timothy 2:13 (NIV)

    Anxiety, Meet Prayer

    When anxiety tries to grip my heart, I don’t push it down—I bring it to God. I pour it all out. I talk to Him like the loving Father He is.

    I thank Him for what He’s already done, and I trust Him for what’s ahead.

    And somehow, even when nothing around me changes—I do.

    “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” —Philippians 4:6–7 (ESV)

    A Prayer for the One Struggling With Their Faith

    Father,

    I come to You with a heart that’s heavy and honest. You already know the depths of my doubts. You know how often I question, how quickly I fear, how much I worry that I’ve disappointed You.

    Sometimes I wonder if I’ve doubted too much, if my lack of trust has pushed me too far away. And I hate that I even feel that way, because You’ve been nothing but faithful. You’ve been kind to me. You’ve been patient. You’ve carried me further than I ever imagined I could go.

    Forgive me, Lord, when I struggle. I want to believe without hesitation. I want to trust without fear. I want to rest in Your promises without trying to control the outcome. And so I ask You—help me.

    Help my unbelief.

    Strengthen the parts of me that still wrestle with doubt.

    Silence the voice that tells me I’ve gone too far, questioned too much, or failed You one too many times.

    Remind me that I’m still Yours. That Your love is stronger than my weakness. That Your grace didn’t come with conditions.

    And that even now, especially now, You haven’t let me go.

    Embrace me when I feel weak, Lord. Teach me to trust You in the storm and in the stillness.

    Grow my faith until it’s not built on how I feel, but on who You are.

    And when I forget, remind me again

    I am Yours. Always.

    In Jesus’ Mighty and Matchless name, Amen.

    Stay Connected…

    New blog posts drop every Wednesday at 12 PM! Come back weekly for encouragement, faith-building truths, and real stories of healing and hope.

  • Steadfast Love

    Steadfast Love

    Lamentations 3:22–23 (EVS)

    “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”

    The Void

    There was a time in my life when I felt completely empty. Surrounded by people, active in life, but still aching deep inside. I couldn’t explain it, I just knew something was wasn’t right.

    So I tried to fill it with temporary things that promised instant comfort, but delivered more brokenness. I chased validation in work, friendships, and potential romantic relationships, thinking that if I could just be enough for someone, maybe I’d finally feel worthy.

    I looked for healing in sex, alcohol, chasing money, and even new age spiritual practices. I ran after anything that could make the ache go away. I always felt like I was in survival mode 24/7 because nothing ever clung. Nothing ever lasted. It felt like I was trying desperately to hold on to anything that felt promising just to keep the feeling alive.

    When I was married years ago, that lingering void was there. Even when I had my children. I thought having a family of my own would satisfy that longing. But it didn’t. The emptiness followed me. Eventually, I made the painful decision to leave the marriage, hoping I’d find freedom and peace on my own. Instead, things got darker. The pain grew louder. And that’s when I started reaching for unhealthy coping mechanisms just to get by.

    My heart felt painfully raw—impossible to heal. But God stepped in and made me believe that healing was possible.

    In a previous post, The Lies We Believe, I shared how trauma and past experiences shaped my thinking—how I unknowingly built an identity around pain, rejection, and fear. I had convinced myself that I was unworthy of real love, that everything I had done was just my karma, that I had to earn value, that brokenness was just my normal.

    But when God’s love entered in, it began to tear down every lie I had believed about who I was—and who He was. His steadfast love didn’t just comfort me—it transformed me.

    The love I had been missing was never meant to be found in people, money, or spiritual trends. It was always meant to be found in Him. And for the first time, I wasn’t just surviving—I was starting to heal.

    The Anchor I Didn’t Know I Needed

    For so long, I believed love had to be earned. That if I didn’t do everything right, I would lose it. I carried that belief into every relationship—including the way I first viewed God.

    Deep down, I thought He would get tired of me too. That maybe, if He really saw how broken I was, He’d walk away like others had. Part of me expected Him to give up on me.

    But He didn’t.

    God’s love didn’t flinch when He saw the ugliest parts of my heart.

    It didn’t waver on the days I doubted or when I slipped back into old patterns.

    It didn’t grow cold when I wrestled with anger, fear, and shame.

    His love stayed.

    Through the confusion, through the healing, through every tear I didn’t think anyone saw—He stayed. His love became the one thing in my life that didn’t shift with my circumstances. It became the steady ground beneath my shaking feet.

    It’s His steadfast love that held me when I thought I was too far gone. It’s His steadfast love that whispered, “You’re still mine. I’m not letting go.”

    It’s His steadfast love that gave me the courage to believe that healing wasn’t just possible—it was promised. I’m not perfect. I’m still in process, but I don’t have to prove myself to God. I don’t have to pretend I’m not broken. I just have to let Him love me—and that’s where everything is being made new.

    To the One Still Searching

    If you’re still chasing something to fill the emptiness, I get it. I’ve been there. I know what it’s like to try and quiet the pain with people, chasing money, or distractions—only to feel even more lost.

    But here’s what I’ve learned: healing is possible.

    And it starts when you stop running and let God in.

    You don’t have to fix yourself first.

    You don’t have to pretend you’re okay.

    You just have to be willing to surrender.

    God’s love isn’t scared of your mess.

    It stays. It heals. It transforms.

    You’re not too far. You’re not too broken.

    His steadfast love is still reaching for you.

    “The Lord appeared to him from far away. I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you.”

    —Jeremiah 31:3 (ESV)

    Prayer:

    God,

    For the one reading this who feels empty, worn out, or far from You—I ask that You meet them right where they are. Show them that Your love isn’t distant or conditional. Remind them that You see every broken place, and You still choose to stay.

    Let Your steadfast love be their anchor. Break through the lies they’ve believed and speak truth into the places they’ve tried to hide. Heal what they thought was impossible to heal.

    Draw them near, and don’t let go.

    Thank You for never giving up on us. Thank You for being the kind of love that transforms us from the inside out.

    In Jesus’ name, Amen.

  • The Beauty In Community: Where God Uses People to Remind You: You Still Belong

    The Beauty In Community: Where God Uses People to Remind You: You Still Belong

    You’re not alone.

    The beauty of having the right community is that God gets all the glory and the enemy becomes powerless. The right people in your corner can help heal old wounds, offer real support, and speak life into places that once felt numb or hopeless.

    Proverbs 11:14 reminds us:

    “Where no counsel is, the people fall: but in the multitude of counsellors there is safety.”

    There is something truly healing about a safe, Christ-centered community. It brings comfort, peace, and a sense of belonging. It becomes a space full of compassion, where you feel safe to be vulnerable and transparent… when you otherwise wouldn’t.

    Doing life alone? It’s dangerous. It’s damaging to your mental and spiritual health. It creates a false perception that you’re all alone, that no one will understand you, and that isolation is safer than intimacy.

    But God.

    Two simple words, yet they carry so much power. “But God” is that holy interruption. That divine plot twist. That gentle reminder that no matter what it looks like, He is still working.

    Even in community, even in your loneliness… God is there.

    2 Corinthians 12:9 says,

    “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

    That truth gives us hope. You don’t have to carry it all alone. In your mess, in your brokenness, in your worry, doubt, or anxiety, you can lean into the strength of community and trust that God will send what you need, right when you need it.

    When You’ve Been Hurt by People

    I know what it’s like to have the very people you thought would protect you end up being the ones who hurt you the most. I know what it’s like to show up for people who vanish the moment you need them. And I know what it’s like to sit in a crowded room and still feel invisible, like no one really sees you.

    So when I talk about the beauty of community, I’m not ignoring the truth that people can be messy. They can be inconsistent. They can break promises, abuse your trust, or walk away without explanation.

    But here’s what I’m learning: God never meant for us to give up on connection just because we’ve been hurt by it.

    He knows the wounds others have left. He sees the way you flinch at the idea of being known again. And He’s not mad at you for that.

    He’s patient with your healing. He’s gentle with your scars. And in His kindness, He’s preparing the right people, people who will honor your presence, protect your heart, and sit with you in the places that still ache.

    You don’t have to pretend. You don’t have to have it all together. You just have to be willing to believe that maybe… just maybe… God is still writing a story that includes healing, connection, and safe love.

    And when that kind of community begins to show up? You’ll recognize it by the peace it brings. By how it reminds you that your presence matters. That you don’t have to shrink or explain or overcompensate just to be accepted.

    God is still in the business of redeeming what people tried to ruin.

    You are not too broken for belonging.

    A Prayer for the One Who Feels Alone

    Father,

    For the one reading this who feels unseen, unheard, and alone, I lift them to You now.

    You see every tear. Every ache. Every wall they’ve built to protect a heart that’s been wounded too many times.

    They want to trust again, but fear whispers lies. They want to believe in You, but doubt clouds their view.

    God, would You meet them in this place?

    Not with pressure, but with peace.

    Not with judgment, but with gentle love.

    Show them that You are not like the ones who left, the ones who broke promises, the ones who made love feel unsafe.

    Wrap them in Your presence.

    Speak to the deep places they keep hidden.

    Heal what was shattered.

    Restore what was stolen.

    And as they take small steps toward trust, be the One who holds their heart steady and secure.

    You are faithful, even when faith feels hard.

    You are near, even when we can’t feel You.

    Let them know: they are never, ever alone.

    In Jesus’ name, Amen.

    I love you.

    And more importantly, God sees you.

    You are held.

  • Distractions

    Distractions

    Distractions are the enemy’s way of pulling us away from God

    Romans‬ ‭5‬:‭3‬-‭5‬ ‭ESV

    “Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”
    ‭‭

    Lose Control

    This past week was kind of a tough one. While I’ve been allowing God to refine me and restore years of brokenness, I realized just how much I try to be in control. I know the freedom that comes with letting go and the safety in going to my Father with everything, even with the smallest of my emotions and laying it at His feet. Hebrews 4:15-16 He is not unable to sympathize with me; He understands because only He can bring comfort.

    Even with that knowledge and understanding, my mind stubbornly reverted back to its familiar patterns: to handle everything on my own. I was familiar with this approach and it has never gotten me any positive results; it only worsens the situation.

    So as Holy spirit guides me and shows me how to release control and trust God with everything even though it can be scary, I wanted to share what happened this past week. This walk is not supposed to be easy and though you may start out strong, you can become distracted along the way. This is a shorty testimony of how I’m learning to navigate through life with Christ while living in a world full of distractions.

    At the beginning of last week, I started to notice a shift in my normally upbeat spirit. Negative thoughts started to slowly flood in. I couldn’t seem to get a grip on them. I was lingering around in bed longer than what has been normal for me these days. My attempts to half-heartedly pray it away were only partially helping. I was fooling myself thinking I had it under control, when I wasn’t on top of studying or spending time reflecting and connecting with God. How arrogant of me to think just because I was growing spiritually, that I could slack off.

    The Enemy Is Always Lurking

    “The enemy is sneaky, he creeps up on you unexpectedly like a thief lurking in the night. When your guard is down, in your most vulnerable moment and when you least expect it, there he’ll be, waiting to led you away from safety and into despair.”

    Here I am with my backwards way of thinking like, now that I have Jesus, I’m gonna be blessed, I’m protected, I’m loved, everything is gonna start working out in my favor. I thought I’d just say a prayer and “voila” everything would be fine, unfortunately that’s not how it works. Not investigating where the negative thoughts were stemming from, caused them to spread like wildfire.

    I knew the moment I was at work one night, unable to contain my frustrations and emotions, it was happening again. Panic set in as if the worst thing in the world was happening. I began to pray, “Lord, forgive me for slacking in praying and spending time with you.” I realized I had started to lose focus. I wasn’t reflecting on all the ways God was changing me, how He had been moving in my life, the answered prayers I received.

    My mind was focused on things I wanted and how I didn’t yet have it. I wasn’t trusting God with everything. I started being less intentional about my 1 on 1 time with Him and my prayer life was suffering because of my lack of focus. I was not utilizing the people I had in my life for encouragement and I was slowly becoming a repeat offender.

    The Holy Spirit began to urge me to release it, because if I kept holding everything in I was only giving the enemy more of a foothold than what he already had. So I released my frustrations. Having someone who was able to encourage me and lift me up in prayer at that moment was what I needed. What the Holy Spirit was trying to show me was that there was a breakthrough attached to my obedience.

    Don’t Get Comfortable

    This past week truly revealed to me the importance of never letting myself get too comfortable. I need to always be ready for challenges and open to being stretched. God reached out to grab my attention, reminding me that I had begun to lose focus. If I wasn’t careful, I could easily find myself slipping backwards.

    I am extremely grateful to Him for helping me see what was happening and for guiding me to be obedient to the Holy Spirit. Had I ignored that gentle nudge, I could still be in the midst of this struggle and what was only meant to be a brief test might have stretched on longer than it was supposed to. Now, I understand how to pray during those moments when unsettling feelings arise. The more I grow spiritually, the clearer it becomes when I am about to face or am already in the midst of spiritual warfare.

    God’s Promises

    I hold fast to the promises of God that He’ll never leave me nor forsake me, even when I forsake Him in moments of doubt and uncertainty. His presence is a source of comfort, reminding me that no matter the distance I may feel, He is always near. When trials come, Romans 5:3-5, they only come to strengthen me and build my character, teaching me resilience and deepening my faith. Each challenge is an opportunity for growth, a chance to reflect on where He’s brought me from, and to emerge hopeful in His love and grace.

    Here are a few scriptures to help meditate on to help combat distractions

    1 Corinthians 10:13 “No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will provide a way out so that you can endure it.’

    (God is faithful to provide resources to overcome temptation)

    1 Peter 5:8 “Be alert and have a sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour.”

    (Peter is warning us against spiritual complacency and the need to be watchful for distractions from the evil forces.)

    Psalm 46:10 “Be still and know that I am God.”

    (It’s important to sit still and reflect to stay connected to God and overcome distractions.)

    2 Corinthians 4:18 “So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

    (The glories of eternity far outweigh any earthly suffering)

    Hebrews 4:15-16 “For we do not have a High Priest who is unable to sympathize and understand our weaknesses and temptations, but One who has been tempted (knowing exactly how it feels to be human) in every respect as we are, yet without committing any sin

    (Because Jesus was tempted in every way just as we are yet without sin we can go to Him boldly and receive grace and mercy. He can help us in our times of need)

  • The Lies We Believe: Overcoming Self-Doubt Through Faith

    The Lies We Believe: Overcoming Self-Doubt Through Faith

    “Trust in the Lord and He will direct your path. Trust in lies and it will lead you down a path of destruction.” — LT

    “We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ.”— 2 Corinthians 10:5

    Lies always appear real until truth exposes them

    There was a time I believed so many lies disguised as truth.

    Lies that held me back from walking in freedom with Christ.

    Lies that robbed me of peace, joy, love, and true emotional stability.

    I thought if I could fix my circumstances, everything else would fall into place. But healing had to start within.

    How It Began…

    To be fair, I didn’t just wake up choosing to believe every negative thought. My upbringing and life experiences shaped my inner dialogue. I adopted beliefs like:

    I’m a disappointment.

    I’m not smart or good enough.

    People just tolerate me.

    No one truly wants me.

    I have to protect myself because no one else will.

    As a child, I didn’t have the words to express these feelings, but as I got older, I acted out in self-destructive ways.

    An Identity Crisis

    Years ago, I started what I called a “self-discovery journey.” I was determined to fix my life and rewire my thoughts. I consumed all the right content, and while some of it helped, I still felt empty. My peace was shallow. My joy didn’t last. And I was relying entirely on me.

    I believed in God, even accepted Jesus at a young age, but my heart was far from Him. I figured He probably didn’t want much to do with me anyway, so I handled my own problems. I thought I was in control.

    Influenced by self-help culture and society, I adopted a mindset of “protect yourself at all costs.” My thoughts, feelings, and emotions were my guide—God was barely in the picture. And that, right there, was one of the greatest lies I believed.

    Exposing the Lies

    I carried so much emotional baggage and had no clue where to lay it down. Rejection, insecurity, fear, confusion… I felt stuck. Despite everything I was learning, I was still:

    Afraid to take risks Constantly triggered and offended Struggling financially and emotionally Failing in relationships Entertaining suicidal thoughts Isolating myself from others

    I tried to fix everything myself and ended up in deeper pain. I didn’t realize I had opened spiritual doors by agreeing with lies and dabbling in practices that seemed harmless but gave the enemy access to my life.

    Finally… Some Relief

    Eventually, I began to feel a pull back to God. It was subtle at first, but I knew He was calling me. Every time I tried to lean in, something tried to pull me back into the shadows.

    Now I understand that the lies I had accepted were standing between me and God. I hadn’t repented. I hadn’t renounced the things I had opened my spirit to. I was still trying to be my own god.

    But when I finally surrendered and invited the true God of the Bible into my healing, everything changed.

    The Shift

    Once I stopped striving and started seeking, my eyes were opened. I realized I didn’t have to carry everything on my own. God’s promises weren’t just “church talk”—they were real.

    I traded self-help books for the Word of God. I started renewing my mind with truth instead of positive affirmations that left me empty. I began to recognize my sin, seek forgiveness, and ask God for strength. Was it easy? Not at all. But it was worth it.

    I had to:

    Let go of toxic relationships Stop feeding my flesh more than my spirit Replace lies with scripture Take every thought captive (2 Corinthians 10:5)

    Now when fear, anxiety, or insecurity try to creep in, I speak the Word over my life. I’m still growing. I still fall. But I know where my help comes from now and I don’t walk this road alone anymore.

    Scriptures That Help Me Fight

    Fear — 2 Timothy 1:7

    “For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.”

    (I say this when fear tries to stop me.)

    Anger — Ephesians 4:26–27

    “In your anger do not sin. Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, and do not give the devil a foothold.”

    (Especially helpful when I’m frustrated at work—I now vent to God instead of bottling it up.)

    Anxiety — Philippians 4:6–7

    “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God…”

    (I quote this when I feel overwhelmed.)

    Every trial, every heartbreak, every lie—I now see them as steps that led me here. And though I’m still becoming, I know this for sure: the narrow road is the only one I want to walk.



    Meta Description: Caught in a cycle of lies, fear, and self-reliance, I believed I had to carry it all. But God showed me the truth. This is my journey of healing, surrender, and renewed identity in Christ.