Your Journey was Never Meant to be Just Okay

 Somewhere along the way, many of us started settling.

We tell ourselves, “This is fine.”
“My life is okay.”
“My faith is okay.”
“My joy… okay enough.”

But deep down, we know something's missing.

We weren’t made for “just okay.”
We were made for purpose.
For passion.
For peace that runs deeper than a checklist life.

Sometimes we settle because we’re tired.
Other times, we’re scared of failing—or of hoping.
But God never called us to a life of just surviving.
He calls us to life abundant (John 10:10).

Yes, the road can be hard. Yes, there are valleys.
But in Christ, there’s more than just getting by.
There’s growth. There’s joy. There’s strength.
And there’s a calling on your life too important to live it half-awake.

So let this be your reminder:
You don’t have to settle for just okay.

You were made for more.

The Journey of How We See Things

 

Some people can be given a field full of roses and only notice the thorns.

Others might be handed a single weed—and still see the beauty in its bloom.

It’s all about perception.

The way we view life doesn’t just affect our thoughts—it affects our joy. Our peace. Our gratitude.

One person sees a rainy day and feels stuck, discouraged.
Another sees a moment to rest, reflect, and breathe.
One sees failure.
Another sees growth.
One focuses on what’s lost.
Another gives thanks for what’s left.

Gratitude is not born from perfection.
It grows in the cracks of real life—
In the pain, the waiting, the uncertainty.
It grows when we choose to look again… and see differently.

Because joy isn’t about what we have.
It’s about what we see, and how we see it.

So today, slow down.
Look beyond the surface.
Maybe your life isn’t what you hoped for right now. Maybe it feels heavy, or hollow.

But even in this, there is something worth noticing.
A small grace. A quiet beauty. A reason to whisper, thank You.

You may not be standing in a garden, but if you’re willing to look—
You just might find a wildflower.

The Journey of Mercy — When the Stones Stayed on the Ground

 

I saw this caption the other day:

“The only one qualified to throw a stone … didn’t.”

And it stopped me in my tracks.

Because it’s true.
Jesus—the only One without sin, the only One who had every right to judge—chose not to.

A woman caught in the act of adultery. They drag her into the temple courts. Not to restore her. Not to help her. But to make an example of her. She is ashamed, terrified, and trembling as they demand, “Shouldn’t we stone her, Jesus? That’s what the law says.”

And then… silence.
He kneels down and writes in the dirt.
No one knows exactly what He wrote.
But His answer echoes through time:

"Let the one who is without sin cast the first stone."

And slowly, one by one, they drop the rocks and walk away.

Jesus—who could have thrown the stone—looked at her and said,
"Where are your accusers? Neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more."

That’s why He didn’t throw the stone.
Because His mission wasn’t to crush people—it was to save them.
His heart wasn’t to shame—but to restore.

He didn’t overlook sin. He never does.
But He looked deeper—at the soul beneath the failure.
He saw the whole story, not just the worst chapter.

So maybe today you feel like that woman.
Exposed. Guilty. Judged.
Maybe others have already picked up their stones.
Maybe you’ve picked up a few yourself.

But hear this:

The only person who had the right to condemn you… didn’t.
He offered grace instead.

So if Jesus dropped the stone, why are we still throwing them?

Let’s walk with mercy. Let’s see people—not just their mistakes.
Let’s be the ones who step in with kindness not the one who is ready to accuse.

Because the journey of mercy is the one that looks most like Jesus.
And someone out there needs to know: they’re not too far gone for grace.
Not today. Not ever.

The Journey’s End: Now She Sits with Jesus

I sat quietly today, thinking about someone I love who stepped into eternity a few days ago. The ache of missing our loved ones are heavy — but there’s also a strange peace today. Because I know she is with Jesus.

I found myself wondering… what do we call Him there?

Down here, we say Jesus. We call Him Lord, Savior, Friend, Redeemer, King of Kings. Each name holds meaning. Each one has comforted us in life’s deepest valleys.

But in Heaven—do our lips tremble with awe when we say His name? Do we fall to our knees when we whisper it? Do we call Him by the name that angels sing or the one that stirs our soul when we worship?

Maybe we’ll fall down and say, “Holy.”
Maybe we’ll whisper, “Jesus.”
Maybe our hearts will cry out, “Worthy is the Lamb.”

Whatever the name… we’ll speak it in awe, in love, and in worship. And He will know it’s us.

For now, we hold onto the names we know.
But I know this—my loved one is home. She has already seen my Lovely Lord. 
And whatever name she now calls Him, she speaks it with joy, healed, whole, and forever held.

And one day… I will get to say it to........

My Journey to the One Who Never Lets Go

 Life can feel like a battle sometimes. You’re trying to hold it all together—your family, your job, your emotions—but deep down, you’re tired. You wonder if you're doing enough. If you're strong enough. 

But there’s good news: You don’t have to fight alone.

Don't forget the story of Moses in Exodus 17.  As long as Moses held his hands up to God, they kept winning the battle. When he got tired, his friends helped him keep his hands raised. After the victory, Moses called God Jehovah Nissi—“The Lord is my Banner.”

A banner is something lifted high so everyone can see it. It’s a sign of victory, hope, and identity. And right now, God is waving His banner over you.

He’s holding it high in the air, reminding you:
“I’m with you. Keep your eyes on Me.”

He’s giving you hope when you feel hopeless.
Courage when you're afraid.
Peace when everything feels uncertain.

Even when life is hard.
Even when the fight feels long.
Even when you feel weak...

Jehovah Nissi is still your banner.
You are not forgotten.
You are not failing.
You are led and loved by a God who never stops fighting for you.

So take a breath.
Look up.
See the banner waving.
And remember—the One who leads you has already claimed the victory.

I choose to lift my eyes and run to Jehovah Nissi - the one who lifts a banner over me.

The Journey of Becoming –

 

You don’t have to have it all together to be loved by God.

He’s not waiting for you to be perfect — He’s already working in your heart, shaping you, gently calling you closer, even through the hard days.

When you mess up, He doesn’t walk away.
When you feel unworthy, He whispers, “I’m not finished with you yet.”

Jehovah Mekoddishkem means that God Himself is the one making you holy. Not your effort. Not your performance. Just His love and grace working in you, little by little, day by day.

So if today feels messy…
If your thoughts aren’t what they should be…
If you're tired of trying to be "good enough"…

Let this truth settle your heart:

He’s still sanctifying you. You're still His. You're still becoming.

You’re on a journey — and He walks every step with you.

He is Jehovah Mekoddishkem

"Meh" like "met" - 

"KO" rhymes with "go" - 

"deesh" rhymes with "leash

"kem" like "them" but with a "k"

I CHOOSE TO TRUST AND BELIEVE JEHOVAH MEKODDISHKEM DURING THIS JOURNEY CALLED LIFE!!!

The Journey of Trust — When You Don’t Know What to Do, God Still Provides

When the noise gets loud and the path gets blurry I need a reminder of the one who never changes. This is my reminder:

She had prayed so much already, but now the words wouldn’t come.

It wasn’t that she didn’t believe.
She just didn’t know what else to say.

Then, a stranger came over — with a warm cup of tea and a soft voice. “I don’t know why,” she said, “but I felt like you shouldn’t sit here alone.”

It wasn’t much, but somehow, it was everything.

They sat together.  And in that quiet moment, she felt something change—not the situation, but her heart. She felt peace.

That’s when she remembered: Jehovah Jireh. The Lord who provides.

It reminded her of Abraham and Isaac—how God made a way when it seemed like there was none. God didn’t show up early. He didn’t explain everything. But He showed up right on time.

In that moment, she realized—God wasn’t just going to provide answers. He was already providing comfort. Strength. A reminder that she wasn’t alone.

The road ahead might be hard. But she could walk it, because she knew God was walking with her.

Maybe you’re there too—stuck in a place of waiting or fear. If so, please remember:

God sees you.
He’s with you.
And He’s already working, even if you can’t see it yet.

Jehovah Jireh.
Even now.
Even here.
Even for you

I CHOOSE TO TRUST IN JEHOVAH JIREH - MY PROVIDER