Entry 52- When Someone Asks: “Won’t You Eat? Are You Fasting?”

Let’s be honest, if you’ve ever been fasting, you know that one person who will look at your untouched plate and say loudly, “Ah, won’t you eat? Are you fasting?” And somehow, they ask at the exact moment when your stomach has chosen to audition for a percussion band.

In those moments, you might feel a mix of pride (“Yes, I’m fasting!”) and a tiny hint of awkwardness (“Now the whole table knows…”). But Jesus had a very specific way He wanted us to respond to fasting and it wasn’t through public announcements or facial expressions that scream “I’m suffering for the Lord.”

In Matthew 6:16–18, Jesus says:

“When you fast, do not look somber as the hypocrites do, for they disfigure their faces to show others they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that it will not be obvious to others that you are fasting, but only to your Father, who is unseen; and your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.”

What does that mean in everyday life?

It means when you’re fasting, you still smile. You still laugh at jokes. You still walk into the lunchroom without giving a dramatic sigh. If someone asks why you’re not eating, you don’t have to announce your spiritual discipline like you’re breaking news. You can simply say, “I’m good, thanks,” or “I’ll eat later.”

Imagine you’re at work and the cake for Ekua’s birthday is making its rounds. You’re on day two of your fast. Instead of saying, “Oh, I wish I could, but I’m fasting,” with a martyr’s tone, you can politely decline and keep your peace. That’s because your fasting is between you and God- not between you, God, and the entire office WhatsApp group.

This doesn’t mean you should lie. It simply means you should protect the intimacy of your time with God. Just as you wouldn’t broadcast a private conversation with a loved one, your fast is a personal offering. God values the quiet sacrifice just as much, if not more, than the loud declaration.

And here’s the beautiful thing: the reward is not from people. People might clap, admire your “discipline,” or even feel inspired, but the true blessing, breakthrough and spiritual intimacy come from God Himself.

Dear God, help me to keep my fasting and other acts of devotion between You and me. Teach me to walk in joy, even in sacrifice, and to guard my intimacy with You. May my heart be more focused on pleasing You than impressing people.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Entry 51- Dear God, Thank You

Some days it’s not the big miracles that leave me in awe, it’s the little ones. The things I would’ve missed if I didn’t pause.

Like the way I always seem to find parking on days I’m running late (even though I never learn my lesson 😅).

Or how I ran into an old friend on a day I needed a reminder that I’m not alone.

Or that moment the electricity came back just before I was about to step into the shower. ECG, I see you.

Sometimes gratitude doesn’t come in loud praise, but in a whisper, a smile, a breath. A deep sigh that says, “Dear God, thank You.”

Zachariah 4:10 ( NIV) “Who dares despise the day of small things, since the seven eyes of the Lord that range throughout the earth will rejoice when they see the chosen capstone in the hand of Zerubbabel?”

It’s easy to thank God for the big breakthroughs- the job, the healing, the open door. But lately, I’ve been learning to say thank You for the little, quiet things. The things that remind me that He’s near. That He sees. That He cares.in…” –

I don’t want to be someone who only praises God when the mountain moves.

I want to be the kind of daughter who notices her Father in the sunrise, in the kind stranger, in the unexpected moment of peace when my mind finally slows down.

I want to be found thankful- even when things feel repetitive or slow or delayed.

Because the truth is, even in the routine, He’s doing something.

Thessalonians 5:18 (NIV) “Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

So, here’s to the little things:

A glass of chilled water.

A song that lifts your spirit.

A moment of laughter in a hard week.

A delay that protected you.

A verse that spoke right to your heart.

The more I notice, the more I give thanks.

The more I give thanks, the more I realize… I’m already surrounded by blessings.

Lord, thank You for the small things- the ones I overlook, the ones I forget to mention.

Open my eyes to see You in the everyday.

Remind me that You’re not just the God of breakthroughs but the God of breath and being.

Help me to live with a heart that notices and gives thanks.

Amen.

Entry 50- Grateful Heart

How many of you have looked back on life and realised just how much God has done for you?

Not in the loud, dramatic ways — but in the quiet, consistent, faithful ones.

Sometimes I catch myself mid-thought and just go, “Wait… I really survived that?”
The pain I thought would drown me.
The heartbreak I almost signed up for.
The version of me that was so unsure, yet kept smiling anyway.

There were seasons I almost settled.
Almost said yes to people and things that didn’t carry God’s breath.
Almost married into disappointment and heartbreak.
Almost walked away from purpose because fear felt more familiar than faith.

But I didn’t.
Not because I’m strong.
But because God- rich in mercy- pulled me back, redirected me, and loved me into wisdom.

“If it had not been the Lord who was on our side…”
Psalm 124:1

Sometimes I laugh when I think about my past.
Not because it was funny, but because of how good God has been in redeeming it.
I look back and see moments where I was kicking and screaming, trying to make things work that God had already shut down.
Where I was praying for clarity but already knew the answer, I just didn’t like it.
Where I wanted God’s will… as long as it looked like my plan.

But still, He stayed.
He kept.
He covered.
He whispered, “Rest, daughter. I’ve already gone ahead of you.”

Looking back reminds me that even in the confusion, I was never alone.
Even when I felt forgotten, I was being formed.
Even when I was waiting, He was working.

And now?
Now I’m tearing down walls.
I’m letting people in again.
I’m getting to know others from a healed place.
I’m becoming- slowly and boldly the woman God always saw, even when I couldn’t see her myself.

“You go before me and follow me. You place your hand of blessing on my head.”
Psalm 139:5 (NLT)

And I just want to say: thank You, Lord.
For not giving up on me when I almost gave up on myself.
For the “almosts” that didn’t happen.
For the “what ifs” that stayed closed doors.
For the peace I now carry- not because everything’s perfect, but because You’ve been present.

So this is for the girl who’s still in it.
Still in the wait.
Still unsure.
Still praying for a sign.

Let my life be your reminder:
God really does come through.
He really does keep His promises.
He really does write better stories than the ones we try to force.

Breathe.
Look back- not in regret, but in remembrance.
And then move forward, knowing that if God was faithful back then, He’ll be faithful again.

“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life…”
Psalm 23:6

And it’s not over yet.

Lord, thank You for being the God of my past, present, and future.

For the “almosts” that didn’t happen, for the “what ifs” that never came to pass, and for the moments You saved me- even when I didn’t know I needed saving.
Thank You for the quiet ways You’ve been working behind the scenes.
Help me to keep trusting You in the waiting, in the wondering, and even in the weariness.
May I always look back and see Your fingerprints.
And may I always move forward knowing You go before me.
Amen.

Entry 49- Still waiting… & that’s okay.

I’m currently in the wait.

Waiting for promises to be fulfilled.

Waiting for prayers to be answered.

Waiting for things to finally make sense and honestly, it isn’t glamorous.

Nobody posts about the wait unless it’s accompanied by a dramatic “glow-up” reveal. You know the ones- “I waited, I prayed, I trusted God, and now look what He did!”

We rarely see the raw middle part- where you’re staring at your life like:

“God, this doesn’t look anything like the prophecy.”

I’ve had those moments where it almost worked out.

I’ve had conversations that felt like divine alignment, only for them to end with a text that read: “it’s not you, it’s me”

I’ve interviewed for opportunities I knew I was qualified for, doors that cracked open just enough to let hope in, only to slam shut without explanation.

I’ve gotten excited, prayed hard, and planned ahead… only for God to say, “Not this one.” And if I’m honest, that almost is sometimes harder than a flat-out no.

You finally start opening up to someone, only for them to ghost you when it got real.

You’re shortlisted for the job, but they go with “someone more experienced.”

You’re preparing for the new apartment, but the rent shoots up out of nowhere.

You think the idea is from God, but the timing- or the team- isn’t.

You forgave your ex and thought reconciliation was coming, but God was using closure, not a comeback.

Can we be real? The longer you wait, the more tempting it is to settle.

To lower the bar.

To accept “at least it’s something” instead of “this is from God.”

But the wait isn’t wasted time.

It’s testing. It’s stretching. It’s preparation.

The enemy loves to whisper, “If it hasn’t happened yet, maybe it never will.” But faith says, “If it hasn’t happened yet, God’s not done.”

Abraham and Sarah almost gave up, but Isaac came right on time.

David was anointed king but had to dodge spears before he ever saw a crown.

Jesus was overlooked in His hometown; but that didn’t cancel His calling.

Almosts don’t cancel destiny. Delays don’t delete promises.
Waiting doesn’t mean you’re forgotten. It means God is still working behind the scenes.

Peace isn’t just the fruit of answered prayers. Sometimes it’s what you get when you surrender your expectations.

Healing happens in the waiting room- not just from heartbreak, but from the idolatry that forms when you want the thing more than you want Him.

I used to cry over people I thought were my future. I used to beg God to bring back things I now thank Him for not giving me.

That apartment would’ve buried me in debt.

That man would’ve drained my spirit.

That job would’ve kept me far from purpose.

Your “almost” was also God’s “I love you too much to let you settle.”

You are not behind.

You are not forgotten.

You are in the waiting room of a God who never delays without reason.

And one day soon, you’ll look back and say:

“I almost settled, but thank God I waited.”

Dear God,

You see the things I almost had.

You know the dreams I’ve buried, the texts I never got, the prayers that haven’t been answered.

Thank You for holding me in the in-between.

Help me trust Your “no” and “not yet” as much as I trust Your “yes.”

I want what You want for me, even when it takes longer than I expected.

Teach me to wait well—with hope, with joy, with expectancy.

And when it finally comes, remind me that You were with me all along.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Entry 48- “Did You Say That, God?”

“My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.”

John 10:27 (NIV)

Let’s be honest: sometimes we think we’ve heard from God, only to realise later we heard our own excitement, anxiety, or assumptions echoing back at us.

Like that time I was sure God said to take that opportunity- only to find out He hadn’t said take it, He had said take your time. *such a face to palm moment*

Or that time I thought a person in my life was “sent from God,” but really, they were just sent from social media. (Hey, the algorithm is loud too!)

We often want God's voice to be like thunder- clear, loud, and unmistakable. But most of the time, it's more like the gentle nudge you feel not to send that message, or the subtle tug when you're about to walk into a place you don't belong.

Think of Elijah in 1 Kings 19. He didn’t hear God in the wind, fire, or earthquake. God came in a still, small voice. If you’re always looking for lightning bolts, you might miss the whisper in your spirit.

One morning, I was driving to work on autopilot. I heard a soft prompting in my spirit: “Take the longer route.” No thunder, no angel appearing on my dashboard, just a nudge. I almost ignored it—because who has time for traffic?

But I listened.

Later, I found out there had been an accident on the regular route I usually took—right around the time I would’ve been there. Sometimes, God's guidance looks like inconvenience. And that’s when discernment matters most.

Let’s clear this up: God still speaks. The problem is that we often can’t hear Him clearly because we’re too crowded—by noise, distractions, pressure, and fear.

It’s hard to hear God’s whisper when we’re drowning in other voices:

• The voice of comparison.

• The voice of self-doubt.

• The voice of the group chat.

• The voice of your own overthinking.

Clarity comes when we pause, pray, and position ourselves to listen. It’s not about perfection—it’s about proximity.

Signs You’re Hearing God’s Voice

1. It aligns with Scripture – God will not contradict His Word.

2. It brings peace, not pressure – Even when the message is challenging, there's a holy peace that accompanies it.

3. It’s consistent – You may hear the same word, scripture, or prompting through different sources (your devotion, a sermon, even a random stranger).

4. It leads to growth – God’s voice challenges us, but never condemns. Conviction, not confusion.

Be honest: When was the last time you sat in silence with God, not talking, just listening?

Sometimes, we want answers in our 5-minute prayers, but God wants relationship, not transactions. He’s not a vending machine. He's a loving Father.

And if you’re in a season where He’s quiet, maybe He’s training your ears- not punishing your faith.

I need YOU to remember that sometimes, clarity isn’t about a voice- it’s about a verse. Open your Bible. The guidance is in there. God still speaks... we just have to slow down and really listen.

Dear Lord, 

Tune my ears to Your frequency. Let Your whisper be louder than the world’s noise. I don’t just want to follow my feelings—I want to follow Your leading.

Where I’ve been confused, bring clarity. Where I’ve been hasty, teach me patience. Help me to discern Your voice above all others.
And when I’m unsure, remind me that even in silence, You are still speaking through Your Word, Your Spirit, and Your peace.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Entry 47- President of the Soft Life

“For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things He planned for us long ago.”- Ephesians 2:10 (NLT)

Over the weekend, I was at my mum’s and we stumbled into a memory lane detour. She laughed and said, “Do you remember when you said you’d be president one day?”

I didn’t- also why would I willingly go into politics? Yuck!

But apparently, I wasn’t just saying it, when I said it then, I was seeing it.

I drew a picture of myself in a limousine, presidential and proud. And do you know what she did with that drawing? She hung it in her office. Her colleagues would see it daily. And to this day, years later, they still ask,

“How is our president doing?”

I told her to say, “She’s the president of the soft life now.”, the next time they asked.

And just like that, the Holy Spirit reminded me- there’s more purpose in that than we think.
As kids, we dream big without hesitation. Want to be a chef today and a veterinarian tomorrow? Done. No limitations, just vibes. But as adults, life gives us detours, disappointments, and sometimes delays that shrink our dreaming capacity. We begin to associate success with hustle, pain, or proving ourselves.

But God doesn’t operate like that.

Yes, the drawing said “President.”

But the calling was leadership.

The heart behind the dream was impact.

And just because I’m not behind a podium or seated at the Flagstaff House doesn’t mean I’m not walking in purpose.

What Is the Soft Life, Really?

Let’s redefine this. The soft life isn’t about laziness or lounging all day while quoting Scriptures about rest. It’s about divine ease. It’s about trusting God so deeply that we no longer have to grind ourselves into exhaustion to feel worthy.

It’s Matthew 11:28-30 personified:

Soft life = kingdom life.

It’s knowing that peace is our portion, rest is our rhythm, and abundance comes through Gods alignment, not anxiety.

You may not be leading a nation, but maybe you’re:

1. Leading a home filled with love and healing.
2. Leading a small team with integrity in a chaotic work culture.
3. Leading a healing journey no one claps for.
4. Leading your own life out of trauma, doubt, and fear into wholeness.
   

And that counts. God sees it. And heaven celebrates it.

Don’t let the enemy convince you that if the dream didn’t happen the way you saw it at 8 years old, it didn’t happen at all. Purpose evolves. And God’s plan always includes room for redirection.

I may not be the president of a nation, but I am the:

1. President of Peace in my circle.
2. President of Softness in a world that’s gone hard.
3. President of Healing in my family line.

You’re still leading. You’re still purposed. You’re still chosen.

1. What childhood dream have I abandoned that may still be alive in a new form?
2. What does the “soft life” look like in my current season?
3. Where have I been called to lead quietly, without applause or public acknowledgment?

Dear God,

Thank You for reminding me that purpose doesn’t expire. Even when the path looks different, Your plan is still in motion. Help me walk in divine ease, not human pressure.

Let me lead with grace, joy, and the confidence that I am exactly where You’ve placed me.Teach me to enjoy the softness You’ve called me to—not as weakness, but as a strength rooted in trust.

And when I forget who I am, remind me that You still call me masterpiece, still call me daughter, still call me chosen.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Entry 46- "IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!" (Even When It’s Not)

"IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!"

I shout this out at least twice a day- knowing very well it isn't my birthday.

I know people find it strange, maybe even a little childish. And that’s fine, because I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.

You see, birthdays were (and still are) a big deal to me. Coming from a home that celebrated them, every year- no matter how big or little the celebration was- I always associated birthdays with joy, attention, hugs, cake, and a deep sense of being seen. That one day felt like the world stopped just to say, “You matter.” So now, even as an adult, I carry that childlike celebration in my spirit—and I let it spill over into every day I’m blessed to wake up.

It’s that child-likeness that keeps me grounded. It reminds me to appreciate the very little things. Like a good laugh. A warm meal. A text from a friend. Or a breeze that comes just when you need it.

Jesus Himself said in Matthew 18:3, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

That childlike joy? It’s not immaturity. It’s worship. It’s choosing to marvel at the simple fact that you woke up and there’s still purpose in your lungs. That God hasn’t forgotten you. That you're deeply loved—no matter what the calendar says.

James 1:17 reminds us: “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights…” So yes, if I want to call today my birthday, I will. Because today is a gift. Every day is. And we don’t have to wait for candles and balloons to say thank You, God, for me.

So, the next time you hear me shout “IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!” just know—I’m living out loud in gratitude. I’m choosing joy. I’m staying in awe of the daily miracles. I’m practicing childlike faith in a grown-up world.

Heavenly Father,
Thank You for the gift of life—every breath, every heartbeat, every moment.
Help me to never lose my childlike wonder.
Teach me to celebrate the ordinary and find joy in the mundane.
May I always see myself through Your eyes: treasured, celebrated, and chosen.
Let my life be a song of joy and thanksgiving.
And on the days I forget how far You’ve brought me, remind me—gently—that every day is worth shouting about.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Entry 45- 1100 Days Later: Healing, Walls, and Letting Love In

While getting ready for work this morning, the Holy Spirit whispered something to me:

“Listen to your Bible plan on your way out.”

Now listen- I’ve missed a few days. (Okay, more than a few.) But when the prompting came twice, I knew it wasn’t just a passing thought. It was an instruction. So, I plugged in my phone, hit play, and the topic that came up?

Whew. I wasn’t ready. I thought I’d be easing into the day, not having an emotional drive to work. 

Listen, if you were on the road with me this morning, you probably caught a glimpse of someone frowning, smiling, almost crying, then nodding like she just got a full therapy session in traffic. That was me. I wear my thoughts on my face. Always have.

As I listened, my mind did what it often does—it traveled back to that breakup.
The one that used to sting if I poked at it too long, now I use it to teach my little sisters...
The one where he chose… well, something else over me.
I won’t rehash all the details because, truthfully, I’ve talked about it enough. This isn’t about him.

This is about what rejection felt like in that season:
Betrayal.
Anger.
Sadness.
Confusion.
Self-doubt.
Silence in rooms that used to echo with laughter.
The quiet ache when everyone else moved on and I still had questions.

I remember asking God, “Is this what rejection feels like?”

And He didn’t sugarcoat it. The answer was yes.
That was rejection. Raw. Loud. Uninvited. Real.

But this plan reminded me that healing isn’t just about moving on.
It’s about letting go.
It’s about tearing down walls you built to protect yourself but that now keep love out.
It’s about forgiving, yes, even when the apology never came.

I used to think letting go meant I lost. That if I moved forward, I was saying the pain didn’t matter.

But the truth?
Letting go is powerful.
It’s a declaration that what happened won’t define the rest of your story.

And guess what else I realised?
I was holding people hostage to a pain they didn’t cause.
I met kind people but assumed the worst. I heard compliments but dismissed them. I was afraid to feel too deeply, so I built walls and called it “guarding my heart.” But what I was really doing… was hiding behind fear.

The plan said something that stuck with me:

You must be willing to tear down the walls to let healing in.

And healing isn’t just about being whole for yourself—it’s about being whole enough to know love again, trust again, and be seen again.

So here I am, 1,100 days later.
And for the first time in a long time, I’m open.
I’m not just healing—I’m healed enough to meet people again.
To ask questions. To share parts of myself.
To laugh without fear of it all crumbling again.

I’m learning how to set boundaries—healthy, God-led ones—not as defense mechanisms, but as containers for peace.
I’m learning to say “this is who I am now,” without apologising for needing time to become her.

You don’t have to rush.

You don’t have to date because people say you should.
But when God says it’s time to open your heart again—trust Him.
You’re not starting over. You’re starting from wisdom.

Lord, thank You for the time it took to get here.
Thank You for walking with me through rejection, heartbreak, and restoration.
Today, I surrender the walls I’ve built.
Give me the courage to be seen, known, and loved again.
Help me to trust You as I open my heart to new connections.
Let my healing not just be for me, but a light to others who are trying to move forward too.
Amen.

Entry 44- Running on Empty, Smiling on Full

Have you ever driven your car with the fuel light on, saying a prayer with every kilometer, hoping Jesus takes the wheel and fills the tank?

That’s what life feels like sometimes.

You’re up early and ready for work. You pack a healthy lunch—well, semi-healthy if plantain chips count—and then rush through traffic, survive back-to-back meetings, reply to 54 unread emails, pretend to listen on Zoom, and smile politely when someone drops “Let’s circle back on this” for the 15th time.

By 3:45 p.m., you’ve run on caffeine, sheer will, and gospel music just to make it to the end of the day.

Then someone asks:

“How are you?”

You smile, “I’m good! Just busy- you know, aldulting!”

Meanwhile, in your head:

“If one more person says ‘just a quick favor’ I might actually evaporate.”

Life doesn’t stop because you’re tired. There are bills to pay, deadlines to meet, clients to smile at, children to discipline, pastors to support, ministries to serve, friends to check on, and somehow you’re expected to drink water, eat vegetables, and maintain a skincare routine.

But what do you do when your soul feels like that iPhone battery stuck on 1% even though it’s plugged in?

God sees it. He knows.

Psalm 103:14 reminds us:

He doesn’t expect you to be superhuman. He expects you to surrender.

Examples of “Smiling on Full” While Running on Empty:

1. The mom who serves at church every weekend, packs school lunches every weekday, and hasn’t had an uninterrupted nap since 2017- She jokes about being tired, but deep down, she feels unseen.
2. The young professional burning the candle at both ends, working multiple jobs to make rent, while trying to smile through another “how’s your career going?” dinner conversation.
3. The creative entrepreneur pushing out content to stay relevant on social media, chasing invoices, showing up in meetings with energy they barely have, all while wondering if they’re even called to this.
4. The teacher who pours into her students like they’re her own, stays late to prep lessons, and cries in the bathroom when no one’s watching.

It’s not just relationships that drain us. Sometimes it’s purpose. Sometimes it’s pressure. Sometimes it’s simply life.

Let’s be honest. Balance often feels like a luxury.

But the kind of balance God offers isn’t performance-based. It’s presence-based.

It’s not about doing less—it’s about being more with Him.

Not just scheduling “quiet time,” but living from a place of rest.

Hebrews 4:9 says:

Rest isn’t just sleep. It’s trusting God enough to let go.

Let go of performing. Let go of perfectionism. Let go of keeping it all together when you’re barely holding on.

You are allowed to say:

1. “I’m not okay today.”
2. “I need help.”
3. “I’m going to slow down for a bit.”

Because your worth is not tied to your productivity. Your value is not based on how many things you check off your to-do list.

Even Jesus rested. Even He withdrew. Even He needed quiet.

Lord, I’m worn out. I’m doing so much, and sometimes it feels like not enough.

Help me to breathe again—not just physically, but spiritually.

Teach me that balance isn’t found in a schedule, but in surrender.

Help me to run to You before I run out.

Remind me that I’m not failing—I’m human, and that’s okay.

Help me find joy in small things again, rest in You, and peace in the chaos.

Amen.

Entry 43- But... What If It Actually Works Out?

We talk a lot about what could go wrong.

“What if I fail?”
“What if I get my heart broken again?”
“What if they don’t like me?”
“What if I lose everything I’ve worked for?”

Sister. Brother. Beloved child of God- what if it actually works out?
Fear Be Loud, But Faith Be Louder.

We’re so used to preparing for disappointment that we start living like disappointment is the default. But God didn’t promise us a life of almost, kinda, nearly, or not-quite. He said: “I know the plans I have for you… plans to prosper you, not to harm you, plans to give you a future and a hope.” (Jeremiah 29:11)

That’s not giving “I might let you down.”
That’s giving it could really work out better than you dreamed.

Let Me Testify Real Quick- I remember talking to God about love after a series of false starts. The kind of prayer where you start with, “Hi God, it’s me again… your emotionally exhausted daughter.”

I was so used to things falling apart that whenever I met someone healthy, kind, and intentional — I didn’t know what to do with myself. I almost self-sabotaged out of habit. (Did I just type almost? Let's laugh please)

But God whispered, “Let Me show you what it looks like when I write the story.”

Shift the What Ifs.
What if the door opens?
What if the job calls back?
What if your healing comes?
What if the friendship lasts?
What if love finds you whole, content, and better than you’ve ever been?

Because that’s just as possible as things going wrong. And honestly — with God? It’s even more possible.
Live Like It’ll Work Out- that's the motto!

Move like you trust Him.
Pray like you believe Him.
Prepare like it’s coming.
Heal like you’re making room for better.

Lord, help me to believe in Your goodness again.
Teach me to expect Your best, not because I’m perfect — but because You are.
Silence my fears and help me shift my “what ifs” to faith-filled expectation.
Let me live like things are working out... because with You, they always are.
Amen.

Entry 42- The Art of Being Open-Minded: God’s Way

Ever met someone who refuses to try pineapple on pizza? Or a friend who insists their way is the way? (Meanwhile, their way has them in the same situation year after year.) We like what we know, and sometimes, we think what we know is all there is. But being open-minded, especially as a child of God, isn’t just about trying new foods or listening to a different perspective. It’s about making room for growth, wisdom, and, most importantly, God’s guidance.

I used to have a list of "non-negotiables" in life—things I was absolutely convinced were set in stone. Then God, in His loving way, reminded me that my plans were cute, but His were better (Jeremiah 29:11). Being open-minded doesn’t mean abandoning our values; it means being willing to let God shape and refine them. Sometimes, we hold onto things so tightly, thinking they define us, when really, they’re just limits we’ve placed on ourselves.

Think about it—how many times have we ignored opportunities because they didn’t fit into our pre-planned version of life? That job offer that didn’t look exactly like what we wanted. That friendship we shut down because they weren’t “our kind of person.” The church we avoided because it wasn’t the one we grew up in. And let’s not even talk about relationships—how many of us have said, "God, give me a spouse!" but immediately shut down every potential date because they didn’t check all 100 of our boxes?

Peter was dead set against preaching to the Gentiles until God showed him a vision in Acts 10. Paul thought he was serving God by persecuting Christians—until Jesus Himself stopped him (Acts 9). Sometimes, what we hold onto so tightly isn’t truth, it’s comfort. And God, being God, has a way of showing us that His plans are bigger than our assumptions.

I remember a time when I thought I had my whole life mapped out. I knew exactly where I’d live, who I’d marry, and how things would unfold. Spoiler alert: God had other plans. And guess what? They were better. But I had to let go of the tight grip I had on my vision before I could step into what He had for me.

Now, being open-minded doesn’t mean accepting every idea that comes our way. Proverbs 4:23 reminds us to guard our hearts. We filter what we take in through God’s Word. So, yes, be willing to learn, listen, and grow—but don’t throw discernment out the window. There’s a balance between being open to new ideas and standing firm in biblical truth.

For example, we live in a time where social media makes it easy to be influenced by every trend, opinion, and self-proclaimed “expert.” If we’re not careful, we start forming our beliefs based on popular opinion rather than scripture. Just because something is widely accepted doesn’t mean it aligns with God’s truth. That’s why we need to be open but also spiritually grounded.

Being open-minded also means understanding that people are on different journeys. It’s easy to dismiss someone because they don’t think like us, but Jesus didn’t do that. He met people where they were, showed them love, and let truth transform them.

I used to be quick to judge people’s decisions—until I realized that I don’t know their full story. Maybe that friend who always cancels plans is dealing with anxiety. Maybe that co-worker who’s short-tempered is battling personal struggles. Maybe that person I thought was "too worldly" is actually seeking God in their own way. When we approach people with grace instead of judgment, we make space for real conversations and meaningful connections.

So, maybe today, we can pause before jumping to conclusions. Maybe we can choose conversation over criticism. Maybe—just maybe—we can finally try pineapple on pizza. (Or at least stop fighting about it.)

Lord, help me to be open to Your wisdom, even when it challenges my own. Teach me to listen more, judge less, and embrace growth. Help me to release control and trust in Your plan, even when it looks different from mine. Guide my steps, guard my heart, and remind me that Your ways are higher than mine. And if I ever become stubborn, please send someone to remind me—gently. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Entry 41- Consideration: What We Take In Shapes Us

Ever found yourself debating whether to text your ex just to see if they’ve "changed"? Or convincing yourself that buying another plant is a responsible life choice? (Because, obviously, more oxygen.) What we consider—whether it’s relationships, decisions, or that second slice of cake—ends up shaping us- literally.

Think of your heart like an exclusive club. Not everyone and everything should get past security.

Proverbs 4:23 says, "Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it." Translation? If we keep letting just anything in—overthinking, negativity, unsolicited relationship advice from that one auntie—we’ll be spiritually exhausted before we know it.

I once convinced myself that responding to a "Hey, stranger" text from my ex was the mature thing to do. Turns out, it was the "let’s re-enter a cycle of unnecessary drama" thing to do. We often consider things based on emotions rather than wisdom. But Romans 12:2 reminds us to renew our minds so we can discern what’s actually good—and not just emotionally convenient.

Setting boundaries is like finally putting a password on your Wi-Fi. If you let just anyone connect, they’ll drain your energy and slow you down. Jesus had boundaries—He loved people, but He also took time to rest, pray, and escape crowds when needed. If He needed boundaries, we definitely do too.

What we consider, we eventually act on. Keep entertaining fear? You’ll never take a leap of faith. Keep dwelling on past hurt? Healing will stay on hold. Keep making excuses for people? You’ll keep getting hurt. But when we consider God’s Word first, our emotions, decisions, and relationships start to align in ways we never imagined.

Lord, help me to filter what I take in and focus on what truly matters. Teach me to consider Your wisdom before my emotions, to guard my heart like a bouncer at an exclusive club, and to make decisions that align with Your will. And if I ever think about texting my ex again, please let my phone mysteriously die. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Entry 40- Why Do I Keep Ending Up Here?

Have you ever found yourself in a situation—whether in relationships, friendships, or even at work—where you think, "How did I end up here… again?" You swore you'd never entertain another emotionally unavailable person, but here you are, decoding mixed signals like it’s your full-time job. You promised yourself you’d stop overcommitting to things that drain you, yet your calendar is packed with obligations you resent.

That’s the thing about emotional capacity, maturity, and patterns. If we don’t recognize our limits, grow through our experiences, and break cycles, we’ll keep running the same exhausting race—just with different scenery.

Just like you wouldn’t keep pouring water into an overflowing cup (unless you like cleaning up messes), you can’t keep stretching yourself emotionally without consequences.

Luke 5:16 tells us, "Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed." If Jesus, the actual Son of God, needed time to refill and refocus, why do we think we can handle everything without pausing?

Signs You’re Exceeding Your Emotional Capacity:

• You feel drained, but you keep pushing yourself.
• You’re easily irritated by people you usually love.
• You struggle to focus or enjoy the present.
• You start resenting the very things you once prayed for.

Expanding Emotional Capacity:

• Learn to say no (without the guilt).
• Prioritize rest and reflection.
• Ask for help and support when needed.
• Pray and reset—your emotions shouldn’t run the show.

Maturity isn’t about suppressing emotions; it’s about managing them wisely. It’s recognising when you're about to spiral into old habits and choosing a better response.

For example, I used to be the Queen of Overthinking. If someone took too long to text back, my mind immediately wrote a 3-part drama series: They lost interest. I did something wrong. I’ll die alone. But then I realised that maturity looks like pausing before assuming.

Signs You’re Growing in Emotional Maturity:

• You communicate instead of shutting down.
• You let things go instead of holding grudges.
• You recognize when something is about them, not you.
• You stop letting fear dictate your decisions.

My favourite biblical example is Joseph. His brothers literally sold him into slavery (Genesis 37:28). If anyone had a reason to hold onto anger, it was him. But instead of letting resentment define his life, he chose wisdom, healing, and eventually reconciliation. Now, that’s maturity.

Emotional patterns are tricky. We don’t always notice we’re stuck in them until we’re in yet another situation that looks eerily familiar.

Some Common Patterns:

• Dating the same type of person in a different package.
• Overcommitting and then resenting it.
• Avoiding conflict and then feeling unheard.
• Seeking validation from people who never give it.

Breaking patterns means recognizing where things went wrong before and choosing differently. It’s asking God to reveal the cycles we keep repeating and giving us the strength to walk away from what isn’t for us.

Steps to Break a Pattern:

1. Identify the cycle – What keeps repeating in your relationships, habits, or mindset?
2. Find the root – Is it a fear of abandonment? A need for validation?
3. Choose differently – Say no when you’d usually say yes. Set a boundary where you’d normally fold.
4. Let God lead – Proverbs 3:5-6 says, "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding." You won’t always understand why God is redirecting you, but trust Him anyway.

Becoming emotionally mature isn’t about never struggling again. It’s about recognising when you’re slipping into old patterns and choosing a different response. It’s about knowing your limits, setting boundaries, and letting God shape your heart.

And honestly? It’s about giving yourself the grace to grow, one step at a time.

Lord, help me recognise my emotional limits and honour them. Give me the wisdom to respond instead of react, and the courage to break unhealthy patterns. Grow me in maturity, so I reflect You in all that I do. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Entry 39- Dusting Off the Cobwebs

So, here I am—back in the dating world after what feels like forever of hurting, healing, praying, hurting, healing, praying (you know the cycle) and somehow convincing myself that Paul’s singleness wasn’t necessarily my calling. I took some time, worked through past heartbreak, and let God do some deep inner work- even though I’ve been stubborn for close to three years.

But now? Now, I’m ready. Ready to date. Ready to love. Ready to awkwardly text, “Hey, how was your day?” to a stranger who might just be the one (or at least a decent one).

But before we get ahead of ourselves, let’s talk about the moment I knew I was ready.

There was a time I swore that if I ever ran into my ex, I’d suddenly forget all my Christian values and let pettiness take over. But when it finally happened, I didn’t feel anger, regret, or the need to prove how much I’d “leveled up.” Instead, I felt…peace.

That conversation showed me how much I had grown. I didn’t need closure anymore. I didn’t need an apology (although, let’s be honest, it was nice hearing it). I had already forgiven him (a little) in my heart. And most importantly, I realized that holding onto the pain was only keeping me stuck.

Forgiving him wasn’t just about him—it was about me. It was about freeing my heart to love again, without fear, bitterness, or comparison. And that’s when I knew—I was finally ready.

Now that I’m open to dating intentionally, I’ve realized something: I don’t just want to meet people, I want to actually get to know them. Not just their favorite color or their top three worship songs, but the real, unfiltered them.

Because let’s be honest—anyone can send “good morning” texts and quote Jeremiah 29:11, but not everyone is truly walking with God. I’ve learned that before I get emotionally invested, I need to see the fruit of someone’s life.

So I’m asking the real questions:

• What’s your relationship with God actually like?

• How do you handle conflict?

• What do you value in a relationship?

• Are you kind, or are you just nice when things go your way?

Look, in my past relationships, I compromised on things I shouldn’t have. Not this time. Boundaries aren’t about being difficult—they’re about protecting what matters.

If I say I want to honor God in my dating life, then that means actually honoring Him—not just when it’s convenient. So, I’m standing firm on my values:

• Emotional Boundaries: No trauma-dumping on date two, please. We’re pacing ourselves.

• Spiritual Boundaries: We can pray together, but we’re not skipping accountability.

• Physical Boundaries: Love is patient—so we’re moving accordingly.

If someone can’t respect my boundaries, then they’re not for me. And that’s okay. Because the right person won’t just tolerate them—they’ll honor them.

If I’m being real, a part of me still gets nervous about love. When you’ve been hurt before, stepping back into the dating pool can feel like volunteering as tribute. What if I get hurt again? What if I choose wrong again?

But fear is not my portion. 2 Timothy 1:7 says, “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and a sound mind.” That means I date with wisdom, and I also trust that God’s got me.

So here’s my approach: I’ll be open, I’ll be intentional, and I’ll be myself. No forcing connections. No rushing what’s meant to unfold naturally (and if it ends but that’s really my person, we will find a way back to each other). And definitely no lowering my standards just to avoid another wedding season as a guest.

If love is on the way, I’ll welcome it. If not, I’ll keep living, growing, and becoming the best version of myself. Either way, I win.

Lord, as I step back into dating, help me to do it with wisdom, joy, and confidence. Keep my heart guarded but not closed off, and let Your peace guide my decisions. Help me to stand firm in my boundaries and not settle for less than what aligns with Your will. And Lord, if he’s not the one, let it be obvious—like immediate “this ain’t it” obvious. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Entry 38- Because I’ve Been There.

I write because I know what it’s like to feel lost, to have a million thoughts running through your head but no clear direction. I know what it’s like to sit in church, nodding at the sermon, but still feeling like your personal struggles are too specific, too messy, too “not spiritual enough” for anyone to understand.

I’ve scrolled through blogs at midnight, looking for words that make sense of what I was feeling. I’ve listened to testimonies, hoping to hear something that sounded like my very own story so I wouldn’t feel so alone. And when I finally did find those words, they felt like water in a dry place. That’s why I write—so that just maybe, someone else will find the encouragement they’re looking for.

There’s something powerful about knowing you’re not alone. When I share my experiences—whether it’s heartbreak, insecurity, struggling with faith, or just trying to navigate adulthood—I do it because I know someone else is going through the same thing.

In some of my entries, I've written about seasons where I struggled with comparison. I was watching my friends get married, start families, and seem so sure of their lives, while I felt like I was still figuring things out. I didn’t expect much from that post, but then messages started coming in. People telling me, “Wow, I thought I was the only one.” Someone even said, “I felt ashamed to admit this to anyone, but reading this made me feel seen.”

That’s when I realised: our stories have the power to set people free. Jesus taught deep truths through parables because He knew people connect with real-life experiences. And if storytelling was good enough for Jesus, I figure it’s good enough for me too- Not even adding me being a marketing person and all.

I used to think I had to wait until my life was perfect before I could share anything. Like, how could I talk about healing if I was still healing? How could I write about faith if I was still battling doubts?

But then I read Romans 8:28:
"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."

That’s when I realised—God doesn’t just use our victories. He uses our struggles, our pain, our confusion, even our mistakes- When God says ALL, He means ALL THINGS!

I remember going through a heartbreak I thought I’d never recover from. It was the kind of pain that makes you question everything—your worth, your choices, even your faith. I was stuck in a cycle of “What if I had done this differently?” and “Why did God let this happen?” But looking back, I see how much I grew through that experience. I see how God used that season to strengthen me, teach me, and prepare me for something better.

Now, when someone tells me they feel stuck in heartbreak, I don’t just throw Bible verses at them—I walk them through it with real-life experience. Because I know what it’s like. And I know that healing is possible.

I don’t believe God allows us to go through things just for ourselves. Sometimes, our experiences are meant to be someone else’s survival guide.

Maybe that person is you. Maybe you’re struggling with something you think no one else understands. Maybe you’re waiting for permission to believe that healing is possible. Maybe you just need a reminder that God sees you, that you are not forgotten, and that your story is still being written.

So I write. Not because I have all the answers, but because I know what it’s like to need them.

Lord, thank You for every lesson hidden in my struggles. Help me to share my journey with honesty and courage, knowing that my story could be the encouragement someone else needs. Remind me that nothing in my life is wasted in Your hands. Use my words for Your glory. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Entry 37- Make Prayer a Lifestyle: Not Just for Emergencies

For the longest time, prayer for me was like a fire extinguisher—only used in emergencies. If life was good, I’d throw up a quick “Thank You, Lord” and keep it moving. But the moment things went south? I’d be on my knees, fasting, speaking in tongues I didn’t even know I had.

But I realized something: Prayer isn’t supposed to be a last resort. It’s supposed to be the foundation!

I used to think prayer had to be formal, like a board meeting with God. But Jesus prayed in all kinds of ways—alone, with people, in quiet places, and in the middle of storms (Luke 5:16, Matthew 26:39). Prayer isn’t about fancy words or perfect timing. It’s about staying connected.

Think about a relationship—if you only talk to your friend when you need something, how strong is that friendship? Now imagine doing that with God. No wonder some of us feel distant from Him!

Making Prayer a Lifestyle

1. Start Your Day with It – Before checking your phone, checking in with God sets the tone for the day.

2. Pray Throughout the Day – Stuck in traffic? Talk to God. Cooking? Talk to God. Prayer doesn’t have to be deep every time—sometimes it’s just “Lord, help me not to lose my temper in this meeting.”

3. Make It Personal – God isn’t looking for rehearsed speeches. Be real. If you’re frustrated, tell Him. If you’re excited, share it. Prayer is a relationship, not a ritual.

4. End Your Day with Gratitude – Even if the day was hard, thanking God keeps your heart in the right place.

Prayer isn’t just an event—it’s a lifestyle. Make it as natural as breathing, and you’ll never feel disconnected from God.

A Simple Prayer for Consistency

Lord, help me to seek You daily, not just when I need something. Let prayer be my first response, not my last resort. Teach me to walk with You, talk with You, and trust You in all things. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Entry 36- “I’m Not the Same Person Anymore”

When people ask  me "How does pain change you?" I often look at them in wonder- Not because I have no words but because pain, just like any other experience, changes us to some extent and one must honestly experience it to 'appreciate' the pain

Pain changes you. Whether it’s heartbreak, betrayal, disappointment, or loss, you come out of it different. You don’t laugh as easily, you don’t trust as quickly, and you think twice before opening your heart again.

I used to be the kind of person who saw the best in people no matter what. Then life happened. Friends I trusted let me down, relationships I thought would last forever fell apart, and I found myself questioning everything—including God. Pain has a way of doing that. It shakes you up, makes you reevaluate, and leaves you wondering if you’ll ever be the same again. Spoiler alert: You won’t. But that’s not always a bad thing.

Pain will either break you or build you. I’ve been at the crossroads more times than I can count, trying to decide if I wanted to be the healed, wise version of myself or the bitter, untrusting one who rolls her eyes at love songs.

Take relationships, for example. I once thought I had met “the one” until things crumbled in the worst way. At first, I was angry—angry at him, at myself, and if I’m being honest, at God. Why would He let me love someone who would hurt me? Why didn’t He give me a sign earlier? (He did but you know the vibes LOL)

But then I thought about Joseph. He had every reason to let pain define him. His own brothers sold him into slavery, he was falsely accused, and he spent years in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. If anyone had a right to be bitter, it was him. But when he finally saw his brothers again, he told them, “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good” (Genesis 50:20).

What if my heartbreak wasn’t meant to destroy me but to redirect me? What if that pain was positioning me for something better? That’s the hard truth about pain—it forces a choice. You can let it make you bitter, or you can let it refine you. (Clearly I'm choosing the latter & yes, it comes with its struggles- that's why I write.)

What Pain Teaches You

1. Boundaries Are Necessary. Not everyone deserves access to you. Pain teaches you to be intentional about who you let into your life.
2. Healing Requires Surrender. You can’t heal while holding onto resentment. Letting go doesn’t mean what happened was okay—it means you’re choosing you over the weight of that pain.
3. God is Still in Control. Even in the pain, even when it doesn’t make sense, He is working things out for your good. (Romans 8:28)

I look back now and realise that every painful season served a purpose. The failed relationship taught me what love isn’t. The friendships that ended showed me the value of real, lasting connections. The moments I thought would break me were actually building me.

Pain changes you. But with God, it doesn’t have to destroy you. Let it refine you. Let it make you wiser, softer, and stronger.

A Prayer for Healing and Strength

Lord, I don’t want pain to harden me. Help me to heal, not just survive. Remind me that even when I don’t understand, You are still working all things for my good. Turn my pain into purpose. Help me trust again, love again, and believe again. Amen.

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Entry 35- Love, Marriage & the Comparison Trap

 

“When Will It Be My Turn?”

It happens every time—another engagement post, another wedding video, another “just married” couple dancing to your song. And there you are, single, sipping your tea like, Wow, God. That’s crazy.

If you’ve been through heartbreak, the comparison trap is even worse. You’re not just wondering when you’ll meet your person—you’re battling the fear that maybe love isn’t for you. Maybe you missed your shot. Maybe if you hadn’t been hurt, if you had chosen differently, if you had been better, you’d be the one in white, twirling under the fairy lights.

Comparison has a way of distorting reality. You see someone’s highlight reel and forget that their journey isn’t perfect either. What if their story includes heartbreak, healing, and waiting just like yours? What if your past pain isn’t a punishment but preparation?

You scroll past yet another proposal, and instead of congratulations, your heart whispers, God, did You forget me? But in Song of Solomon 8:4, we’re reminded: “Do not arouse or awaken love until it so desires.” Translation? Stop forcing timelines that aren’t yours. Love, when led by God, is never late.

We act like life is a race where we all have the same starting line and finish at the same time. But in John 21:21-22, when Peter asked Jesus about another disciple’s future, Jesus basically said, Why are you worried about him? Focus on following Me.

That hit different.

Your life isn’t meant to look like anyone else’s. God has a unique plan for you, and comparing your timeline to someone else’s is like getting mad that a sunflower isn’t blooming at the same time as a rose. Different seasons. Different purposes.

Breaking Free from the Comparison Cycle

1. Heal, Don’t Hurry. You can’t rush into love just to prove something to yourself or others. Healing from past hurt means embracing God’s timing, not running ahead of it.

2. Gratitude Over Envy. The quickest way to ruin your blessings? Wishing they looked like someone else’s. Focus on what’s good in your life.

3. Trust the Author of Love. If God has love in store for you, He’s writing a story far greater than anything comparison can convince you you’re missing out on.

Your story is still unfolding. Stop comparing chapters and trust the Author.

A Prayer to Let Go of Comparison and Fear

Lord, I release my fears about love and marriage into Your hands. Help me to stop comparing my journey to others and trust that You are working in my life. Heal my heart from past hurt and remind me that Your timing is perfect. Amen.

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Entry 34- Forgiving Yourself & Moving On: God Already Did

Have you ever replayed a mistake so many times that you convince yourself that God must be tired of you? Because same. I’ve spent sleepless nights analysing my worst decisions, listing all the ways I “should have known better.” The overthinking? Olympic-level. The guilt? Heavy. And the worst part? I believed I had to earn my way back to grace.

Have you ever sent a text and immediately regretted it?  Or maybe you trusted someone you knew wasn’t good for you (but they had nice teeth and a deep voice, so… mistakes were made).

The regret hits, and suddenly, you’re playing back every dumb decision like a personal highlight reel of shame. I’ve been there—thinking, How could I have been so blind? So naive? So… me?

And that’s when guilt creeps in. Not just any guilt—the kind that sticks, making you feel like you have to prove to God that you’re sorry before He takes you seriously.

But then I read 1 John 1:9:

"If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness."

So, let me get this straight—God forgives instantly, but I’m over here acting like I need to serve 3-5 business years of guilt before I can move on? Make it make sense please.

The problem isn’t that God won’t forgive us. It’s that we think we need to “suffer” a little longer before we deserve it. But grace doesn’t work like that.

Think about Peter. He denied Jesus three times. That’s a friendship-ending, block-worthy offence. But instead of canceling Peter, Jesus restored him (John 21:15-17) and still trusted him with His work.

If Jesus wasn’t holding it against Peter, why was I still holding my own mistakes against myself?

How to Move On (For Real, This Time)

1. Accept God’s Forgiveness. Stop treating it like a store credit you’re afraid to use. If He says you’re washed clean, believe Him.

2. Learn from It, Don’t Live in It. Spent money you shouldn’t have? Okay, now you know. Fell for the wrong person (again)? Lesson learned. Growth > guilt.

3. Stop Letting Shame Narrate Your Life. Your bad decisions don’t define you. You are NOT your worst moment. You are who God says you are—loved, chosen, redeemed. Period!

Your past doesn’t disqualify you. God already forgave you—now it’s time to forgive yourself.

A Prayer for Forgiving Yourself

Lord, I surrender my past mistakes to You. Help me to stop replaying what You have already erased. Remind me that I am not my failures but Your child, covered in grace. Thank You for fresh starts and second chances. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Entry 33- Forgiving and Letting Go of What Broke Me.

So this post has been a long time coming- don't read too much into it, there's a testimony in here & I hope you find it.

Anyways......

I thought he was the one. You know—the fairytale, the answered prayer, the "choose day bae" (IYKYK lol), the “God when?” testimony in the making. But instead, he became the heartbreak I never saw coming. The kind that leaves you replaying every moment, questioning every decision, and wondering if love was even real (for over a year).

At first, I told myself I had moved on. I blocked, deleted, and even gave myself an imaginary TED Talk about “self-worth and new beginnings.” But deep down, I wasn’t free—I was just pretending to be. My heart still carried the weight of betrayal, the sting of broken promises, and the silent resentment that whispered, How could he do this to me, a whole me you know (who did I think I was please)?

Then God stepped in.

Let’s be honest—forgiveness was the last thing I wanted to do. I wanted justice. I wanted an apology, a dramatic realization on his part, and maybe a billboard that said, “I messed up and she was the best thing that ever happened to me.” But instead, God gave me Ephesians 4:31-32:

"Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you."

"God, like let's be so for real right now."

"Forgive him? After what he did?"

(This is part of a legit conversation I had with our Father) 

But here’s what I learned—forgiveness isn’t about them. It’s about you. It’s about releasing yourself from the chains of what happened so you can step into the future God has for you. I was letting my feelings dictate my healing, when God was calling me to walk by His truth.

My emotions screamed, He doesn’t deserve forgiveness! But my spirit whispered, Neither do you, yet God forgave you anyway.

Forgiveness wasn’t about making sense of the hurt—it was about trusting God with it. I had to let go of my own understanding (Proverbs 3:5-6) and lean into the truth that God would heal what was broken, whether or not I got closure.

So I prayed (more like lamented- thank God for my support system because what they had to hear, whew). Not a cute, polished, Christian-girl prayer, but a real, raw, "God, I don’t want to forgive him, but I need You more than I need my anger" kind of prayer. And little by little, the weight lifted. The bitterness faded. And where there was once pain, there was peace.

Letting go isn’t forgetting. It’s choosing freedom over bitterness. And sometimes, the closure we need isn’t an apology—it’s trusting that God’s plan is greater than the pain we’ve endured.

If you're currently dealing with a type of hurt you don't think you can forgive, say this prayer,

Lord, I give You the hurt I’ve held onto for too long. I lay down my pain, my disappointment, and my desire for justice. Teach me to forgive as You have forgiven me. Lead me in Your truth, not my emotions. Fill my heart with peace, and help me to trust that You are writing a better story for me. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Entry 32- To Err is Human, to Forgive Is?

For years, I held onto grudges like they were my birthright—proudly replaying the offense in my head, perfecting my imaginary comebacks. I told myself I wasn’t bitter; I was just holding people accountable. But truthfully? I was just marinating in resentment, and it was exhausting.

grudges feel Like protection, but they’re a Prison

I thought holding onto anger was a form of self-defence. If I let go, wouldn’t that mean they “won”? Wouldn’t that make me weak? But then I read Matthew 6:14-15: "For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins."

Yikes.

So here I was, refusing to forgive my cousin for stealing my doll in 19xx (shall we not expose our ages here please), meanwhile, God was looking at me like, "Sis, you still expect me to forgive you daily?"

And let’s talk about relationships—because if I had a Cedi for every time I held a grudge against an ex, I could fund a small vacation. I thought staying mad kept me in control. In reality, it just kept me stuck. Meanwhile, he was out there living his best life, oblivious, while I was still drafting imaginary text responses in my head (Foolish! I thank God for His Grace everyday).

I used to think forgiveness meant pretending it didn’t happen. Nope. Forgiveness doesn’t mean you have to send them a Christmas card or invite them to brunch. It means you stop carrying their mistake around like emotional baggage.

Take Peter, for example. He denied Jesus three times- one, two, three times! If Jesus had held grudges like I did, Peter would’ve been excommunicated from the disciples' WhatsApp group. But instead, Jesus restored him (John 21:15-17). That’s real grace.

The same applied to my past relationships. I had to forgive—not for them, but for me. Because dragging resentment into new situations is like bringing expired milk to a fresh cup of coffee. It just ruins everything.

Letting go, finding freedom

When I finally let go, I realised how much lighter I felt. No more plotting petty revenge scenarios in the shower. No more mental replays of that one time someone shaded me in a group chat. Just freedom. And the best part? God’s love filled the spaces that anger used to occupy.

Lord, help me to let go of grudges that keep me bound. Teach me to forgive as You have forgiven me. Fill my heart with grace, and replace bitterness with love. And if someone still owes me money, remind me that You are my provider. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Entry 31- The (Not So Little) Excuses Christians Make

Faith, Accountability & The Excuses We Love

We say we want to grow, but do we really? Or do we just have really good excuses? You know the ones—the ones that sound spiritual but are just a cover for avoiding responsibility. Let’s break them down.

"God is still working on me."

Translation: I refuse to change.
Yes, growth is a process, but that’s no excuse to stay the same. Paul asks, "Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase?" (Romans 6:1-2). Spoiler: The answer is no.

"This is just how I am."

Translation: I don’t want to grow.
If Moses, Paul, and Peter could change, so can you. Isaiah 64:8 reminds us, "We are the clay, you are the potter." Let God reshape you.

"God knows my heart."

Translation: I don’t need to apologise.
Yes, and that’s exactly why you should be concerned. Jeremiah 17:9 says, "The heart is deceitful above all things." Instead, pray Psalm 139:23-24—"Search me, God, and know my heart."

"I’m waiting on God."

Translation: I’m avoiding responsibility.
Waiting is biblical, but sometimes it’s procrastination. In Exodus 14:15, God told Moses, "Why are you crying out to me? Tell the Israelites to move on!" Maybe it’s time for you to do the same.

"The enemy is attacking me."

Translation: I don’t want to take responsibility.
Yes, spiritual warfare is real, but not everything is an attack. James 1:14-15 reminds us, "Each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire." Own your part.

So, What Now?

Excuses keep us stuck. True growth requires us to surrender, take responsibility, and allow God to refine us. No more hiding behind spiritual phrases—let’s move forward.

Are you ready to stop making excuses? Let’s go forward.

Dear Lord, help me to recognise when I’m making excuses instead of growing. Give me the courage to take responsibility, the humility to change, and the wisdom to walk in obedience. Shape me into who You’ve called me to be. In Jesus’ name, Amen.