Some mornings feel like a still frame from a dream — eggs on toast, a warm cup of coffee, a treasured orchid in bloom, and sunlight pouring through the window as summer slowly softens its
edges. There's a sweetness in the stillness, even when your heart is sorting through a mix of memories, improbable hopes, and unspoken prayers.
I sat with my journal this morning, letting the thoughts flow — some tender, some tangled. Grief still visits sometimes, uninvited, quietly and unexpectedly. But so does gratitude. And both
have a way of shaping perspective.
Recently, someone criticized me for sharing moments like this — calling it a “need for validation from strangers.” I found that a little amusing, to be honest. It revealed more about their
shallow understanding of me than anything else. Because... if I let praise shape my identity, then I’d also have to let their disapproval define me too — and that’s not a road I’m willing to
go down. My worth doesn’t rise and fall with opinions, accusations, or criticism. It’s anchored in something much deeper: the love and sacrifice of my Lord, Jesus Christ. Not in my talents,
or my flaws, or even how I’m perceived.
I share these glimpses of life — not to seek applause, but because I know how powerful it can be to feel seen. If my words can offer someone else a breath of comfort, a reminder that they’re
not alone, or a moment of beauty in the middle of a harshness… then it’s worth every single sentence.
And through all the contrast — beauty and ache, quiet and longing — a new song began to take shape. Gentle at first, but certain. It’s been whispering in the winds, and now it’s begging to be
heard. A melody born from deep places, asking to be shared.
Soon, my new friend.
Soon.
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