Heaven’s Blueprint

  I don’t even know if I can fully put this into words, but I’m going to try—because some mama out there needs to know she’s not alone. Being a mom… and now a grandma… and also still a mom to an adult child with special needs, it’s not for the faint of heart. Add to that, one of my grandbabies is starting to show signs that he may have some challenges of his own—and I find myself preparing for another layer of this journey. This blog is for the mamas like me. Mamas of extraordinary kids. Mamas who don’t get to look forward to that 18th birthday and an empty nest. Mamas who don’t get to write the typical milestones in a baby book… but still celebrate the wins no one else sees. It’s for the ones who have to rescue their adult kids from messes, not because they’re reckless, but because their brain is brilliant and their life skills haven’t caught up. It’s for the moms doing the absolute best they can… even when it doesn’t feel like enough. Take today, for example. Yesterday’s ...

# Distraction and Depression Well, let’s talk about two more words that may not seem to go together at first: distraction and depression. A little over a week ago, I launched my coaching business. And one thing I’ve quickly learned is this: if God calls me to something and I obey, there will absolutely be opportunities to get distracted. Now, I’m someone who loves starting things — the vision-casting, the excitement, the adrenaline rush — but if I’m being honest, finishing has always been a little tougher. Once the shine wears off and it’s time to walk it out day by day, it’s easy for me to get bored, discouraged, or even just wander off the path. And then there’s this little issue I have with impatience. (Anybody else? Just me? Lol.)   I believe God’s Word with my whole heart — so when He speaks and confirms something, I expect instant results. Instant gratification brat? Yep, that's me (and maybe some of you, too!). When I started posting blogs and preparing for this launch, I tr...

 Addiction, Idols, and Obedience So I bet when you read that title you thought, Why in the world is she putting those three things together? At first glance, they seem completely unrelated — especially addiction and obedience, right? But the truth is, we can become addicted to just about anything. Here’s the definition of  addiction according to Google:   “Having a strong, compulsive desire or need for something, often a substance or activity, despite potential negative consequences.” And here’s the definition of idolatry. “The worship of a physical object as a god; an immoderate attachment or devotion to something.” So maybe those two aren’t so different after all, right?   But why throw obedience into the mix? Let’s look at its definition:  “ Compliance with an order, request, or law, or submission to another’s authority.” All three have a common thread: submission.   You can submit to the physical or mental pull of addiction.   You can submit to the...

Survival was my drug of choice.   Not because I loved struggling—   But because survival felt safer than surrender. The truth was, I didn’t know what real safety even looked like.   Because slowing down would have forced me to face everything I buried.   The fear of being abandoned.   The shame of not being enough.   The lie that if I wasn’t holding it all together, I'd lose everything. So I stayed in motion.   Fixing. Managing. Holding it all up.   For everyone but myself. I called it “FAITH.”   I called it “STRENGTH.”     But really, I was surviving—   Running from brokenness, grief, and the fear of losing control. Survival became my badge of honor.   But underneath, it was covering a heart desperate for healing. And guess what?   Even when I had the house, the family, the busy life—I still felt empty. Until one day, I couldn’t hold it all up anymore. The breaking came. The walls I built came crashing down.   A...

Whew—what a whirlwind this journey has been. I’ve shared stories of personal trauma, healing, and transformation… and today I want to pull back the curtain a little more. While I’ve touched on marriage in my past posts, I haven’t yet spoken much about one of the greatest and most challenging roles I’ve ever walked in: being a mom. I’ve spent 33 of my 35 years of marriage as a parent. My first child was born in our second year of marriage, and let me tell you—we were not ready. I had always dreamed of being a parent. I figured my years working in daycare and babysitting would have me set. I mean, I’d handled a whole room full of kids—how hard could one baby be? (Spoiler alert: I found out quickly.) During my first pregnancy, I developed preeclampsia. Weekly appointments, ultrasounds, and tests became my norm. We were still newlyweds, and he came to nearly every appointment with me. His sister was pregnant at the same time, and that gave us family support. My mom was amazing—she thr...

    What If You’re the One Holding You Back? I know—it sounds almost laughable, right?   But what if the real reason you're not moving forward… is you? What if all the wheel-spinning, false starts, and stuck moments aren’t because of outside forces—but because you’re afraid to move ahead? Fear is sneaky. It’s a slimy, subtle tactic the enemy uses to stall your progress—not just in your earthly dreams, but in your heavenly destiny. Most of the time, we don’t even recognize it. We think we’re being wise, cautious, or protective.   We say things like,   “I’m staying humble.”   “I just don’t have the support.”   “My family doesn’t believe in my vision.” Sound familiar? Here’s the truth: the enemy doesn’t have to do much when we’re already blocking ourselves. Fear. Excuses. Doubt.   They all stem from one core issue—belief. If you don’t truly believe in you, then how will you ever walk in your full, God-given purpose? Your...

  Blog 4: The Call It’s a Seek. See. Act. season. If I’ve learned anything in this life, it’s this: God has always been there . Everything I’ve ever needed has already been planted within me—I just didn’t know how to access it. And if there’s one constant in life, it’s change. With every new season comes a fresh invitation to grow, to heal, and to evolve. But those invitations don’t always look like doors—they often look like storms, struggles, or silent stretches. Looking back over the story I’ve shared so far, here’s what most people don’t realize: I was saved for years, but I didn’t know God. I hadn’t met the Holy Spirit. I didn’t understand that I was the daughter of a King, an heir to Heaven’s throne. That truth was hard for me to accept. I was raised in chaos, shaped by survival. So the idea that I was royalty? Destined for divine inheritance? That felt impossible. Unbelievable. I could believe it for everyone else. When I read the Bible, I believed the promises—fo...

Blog 3: What Was I Thinking? I mentioned yesterday that the moment at the movies was a major eye-opener for me. At the time, I was doing well—spiritually, physically, emotionally. I spent as many hours as I could sitting at the feet of Jesus. I was healthy. I was focused on taking care of myself. My son was doing great. And then came this tug in my spirit. Was God really asking me to pray for my husband? I said no. I was convinced it wasn’t from God. But the nudging didn’t stop. It kept coming... again and again. Then, in December of that year, I went to a women’s conference. On the way home, God asked me, “What do you really want?” I shrugged, “I don’t know, God.” He pressed again, “What do you really want?” Something in me broke. I was driving, crying so hard I could barely see the road. I was merging onto Broadway Extension, weeping uncontrollably, when I shouted through my tears, “I want my marriage back!”*l I cried for miles. It wasn’t just about the marriage—it was years of disap...

“It’s Not Yours to Carry” Now we step into the young adult years—where chaos tried to follow me, but God had already begun writing a better plan. I was a hot mess of a teenager. By the time I was fourteen, my dad was gone again—choosing gambling over being present. He lost his job and moved in with my grandmother. I was sixteen when she passed, and my dad tried living with us for a while, but he wasn’t working, just gambling away what little he had. Eventually, we sent him back to the empty field we picked him up from. I know that sounds cold, but there were too many unhealed wounds—and my mom wasn’t thrilled he was there either. Let’s back up a bit. With my dad absent for most of my teen years, I was always seeking attention. I was still the kid who didn’t fit in. I turned to food to cope and stayed “the fat girl.” Most boys didn’t want to date the heavy girl, which only added to my cycle of people-pleasing, manipulating, and surviving. I ran with the wrong crowd for a while—kids...