Submission. It’s one of those words that makes every woman in Bible study shift in her seat. But what if submission isn’t about losing control — it’s about trusting who’s in control? As I wrestled through Ephesians, I realized I’ve spent my life being obedient but not always submissive. Obedience can come from fear, but submission comes from love, trust, and joy — even when it means surrendering what I want for what God knows is best.

Trusting God sounds simple—until you’re faced with a decision that scares you. I’ve found myself in that space lately: unsure, anxious, and caught between fear and faith. It reminded me of Finding Nemo—Marlin’s struggle to let go and trust the journey. Maybe that’s what trust really is: not knowing the outcome, but believing that God will be with us, even if we get it wrong.

Fear kept me playing it safe, but God’s grace freed me to play bold—on the field and in life.

Speaking the truth isn’t always easy—or safe—but it’s necessary. From calling out a teammate on the field to standing firm in everyday life, honesty requires courage, integrity, and sometimes, a willingness to face conflict. Yet it’s in these moments that we find freedom, empower others, and stay true to who we are.

What if the hallway—the in-between, the quiet, the part that feels like nothing—is where healing actually begins? This is my story of learning to let go, trust God’s timing, and find peace when everything in me wants to rush ahead.

What do you do when the next thing doesn’t come fast enough? This is my story of wrestling with the wait, chasing too hard, and learning to let the hallway heal me.

Burnout doesn’t always come from hating what you do—it can come from loving it so much you forget to rest. This is a reflection on what happens when you become the glue, and how God gently reminds us we were never meant to hold it all together.

We spend so much energy trying to gain approval, impress others, or “deserve” love. But true love—the kind that sets us free—is always a gift. In this reflection, I explore how we experience that kind of love from people, and ultimately, how we rest in the unwavering love of Christ, who chose us before we ever chose Him.

Jesus never begged for affection or pitched Himself to be chosen—He simply invited, “Follow Me.” He was secure in the Father’s love, even when people walked away. What if we stopped trying to convince others to want us and instead learned to rest in that same love? This is about letting go of striving, embracing honest relationships, and choosing to be rooted in the love that never wavers.

Many of us confuse love with approval—thinking we’re only lovable when we’re pleasing, impressive, or enough in someone else’s eyes. But love and approval are not the same. True love, the kind modeled by God, doesn’t hinge on performance or perfection. It sees us fully, flaws and all, and still chooses us. In this post, we unpack the difference between human approval and divine love—and why chasing validation will never give us the deep soul-acceptance we’re really looking fo

Do women carry a deeper sense of responsibility? Often, we lead quietly—seeing needs, stepping in, setting the tone. Scripture shows women’s influence shapes history, for better or worse. Leadership isn’t about recognition but faithfulness. Even unseen acts—like laying down cones before practice—matter. Influence is power, and women carry it daily.

It was April Fool’s Day, but nothing about ending my engagement felt like a joke. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t confused—I was clear. This is a story about how the enemy twists truth, how I almost fell for the counterfeit, and how God pulled me out and rewrote everything.

In the final trick, I was bound and submerged—waiting for a rescue that never came. Then, He came. My Savior shattered the illusion, broke the chains, and breathed life into me. The magician’s trick failed, and the God I had almost forgotten restored me—redeemed, free.

The curtain rises, and I step into the spotlight, glittering and adored. The magician promised freedom, but with each act, the chains grew tighter. In the final trick, I was bound and submerged—waiting for a rescue that never came.

I thought my mistake had cost us the game, and at halftime, I couldn’t hold back the tears. But in that moment, I learned something powerful

Turning 30 has been more of a journey than I expected.

You’ve trained, prepared, and now God says, “Get up. Go.” Will you trust Him enough to step onto the field?

What if the waiting isn’t wasted? For the past four years, I’ve been in a season I never expected—stuck in the in-between, feeling sidelined

My Spotify Wrapped didn’t just reflect my music taste—it revealed the seasons I sought God and the ones where I chased everything but Him.