Hello there.

For the past three years, I've been on a journey to find alignment within myself — spirit, mind, body, and heart. These were the fragmented places, the ones I'd learned to hide. For so long I presented myself to the world behind a mask and a smile, all while carrying the scars of abandonment and neglect — and the need for validation they left behind.

By the world's measure, I had gained everything I was supposed to want. The attorney husband. The six-figure executive role. The master's degree. The five-bedroom home in the suburbs. One by one, I had taken these things on, hoping they would make me seen — worthy, valuable, enough.

But they didn't bring peace. And they certainly didn't bring patience. (I learned long ago not to pray for that one — pray for patience and He'll simply hand you more to be patient with.) I had chased those things because they promised me peace, love, joy. What I found, carrying them, was closer to the opposite.

So in 2023, I left my six-figure nonprofit executive role and set out to follow God into the wilderness — to seek the things I'd been promised but never found in all I had gathered.

The things I carried had grown heavy. What I'd gathered to give me rest had quietly become a kind of bondage — I had been enslaved by the very things I thought would save me. And underneath it all, I kept hearing the same invitation:

“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”Matthew 11:28–30 · KJV

I think often of the children of Israel. They didn't begin in slavery — they came to Egypt seeking refuge from famine. The very place they ran to for safety became the place that enslaved them. I knew that story from the inside. To follow God, they had to leave Egypt behind — not only its chains, but its comforts too. Because what God promises isn't things. It never was.

So I left. And the way out led, as it so often does, straight into the wilderness.

This is what you'll find here. When I'm in the wilderness, God speaks to me in words. I sit with them in meditation, and I dig into the original tongue — Strong's Concordance in hand — to understand what He's truly saying. Those words become direction: when to move, when to be still, where the path turns next. They teach me His way, they reveal His will, and they return me, again and again, to His word.

What I find, I'll share here — and my hope is that you'll share what He reveals to you, too, so that we might be witnesses for one another of what God is doing for us, and through us, in the wilderness. Welcome to the journey.