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.