Thank You

A year ago, I entered a season I never wanted to know.

The kind of season that changes you. The kind that divides your life into “before” and “after.”

Almost a year ago, I said goodbye to my mom.

Even now, those words don’t feel real. There are days when I still reach for my phone, thinking I should call her. Days when something funny happens and I instinctively want to tell her about it. Days when I wish I could hear her voice, ask her advice, or simply sit beside her one more time.

Grief has a way of reminding you how deeply you loved.

But today, instead of focusing on what I lost, I want to focus on what I was given.

Thank you.

Thank you, Mom, for every sacrifice I never saw.

Thank you for every prayer you prayed over me when I didn’t know you were praying.

Thank you for every lesson, every correction, every hug, every conversation, every moment you spent loving me.

Thank you for showing me what faith looks like.

You weren’t perfect, but you pointed me to the One who is.

I watched you trust God through hard seasons. I watched you worship when life wasn’t easy. I watched you show up week after week, sitting in your place at church, loving Jesus with consistency that now means even more to me.

Some of the seeds you planted in me are only now beginning to bloom.

I hear your wisdom in my decisions.

I see your strength in my perseverance.

I recognize your love in the way I love others.

And I thank God for every piece of you that lives on in me.

This year has taught me that grief and gratitude can exist together.

I can miss you and still be thankful.

I can cry and still praise God.

I can wish you were here while trusting that you are exactly where God has called you to be.

Scripture tells us in 1 Thessalonians 5:18 to “give thanks in all circumstances.” Not for all circumstances, in all circumstances.

And if I’m honest, there have been days when giving thanks felt impossible.

Days when my heart was heavy.

Days when I questioned why.

Days when I simply missed my mom.

But even in those moments, God remained faithful.

He has carried me through every tear, every lonely holiday, every milestone, every moment when the weight of grief felt too heavy to bear.

Psalm 34:18 says, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

I have lived that verse this year.

Not because the pain disappeared.

But because God met me in it.

He sat with me in my sorrow.

He strengthened me when I felt weak.

He reminded me that death does not get the final word.

Because of Jesus, goodbye is not forever.

Because of Jesus, there is hope beyond the grave.

Because of Jesus, I know I will see my mom again.

What a gift that promise is.

As I reflect on this year, I realize that grief has taught me to treasure what matters most.

People matter.

Time matters.

Faith matters.

Love matters.

And while I would give anything for one more conversation, one more hug, one more Sunday sitting beside my mom, I am overwhelmingly grateful for the years God allowed me to have with her.

Not everyone gets a mother who loves fiercely.

Not everyone gets a mother who prays.

Not everyone gets a mother who leaves behind a legacy of faith.

I did.

And for that, I say thank you.

Thank you, Mom.

Thank you for loving me.

Thank you for believing in me.

Thank you for pointing me toward Jesus.

Thank you for helping shape the woman I am becoming.

And thank You, God.

Thank You for every year, every memory, every lesson, every laugh, and every moment.

Thank You for sustaining me through this year.

Thank You for never leaving me.

Thank You for the promise that this separation is temporary.

A year later, my heart still aches.

But my gratitude is greater.

Thank you.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

‭‭Psalm‬ ‭23‬:‭1‬-‭6‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Let Go

Letting go isn’t a one-time decision. It’s something I’ve had to learn to do again and again, sometimes with tears, sometimes with peace, but always with trust. I have this recurring thought that sometimes if life was a little easier I would have no problem surrendering.

Right now, I’m in a season of waiting. Waiting on God to restore some things I’ve lost. Waiting on clarity. Waiting on healing in places that still feel tender. And in this season, He’s been asking me to do something both simple and hard: let go.

Let go of how I thought my life would look.

Let go of timelines I’ve outgrown.

Let go of who I thought I needed to be.

This process hasn’t been easy. There’s grief in releasing the familiar. There’s fear in stepping into the unknown. But there’s also been beauty, because in the letting go, I’m discovering something deeper. I’m learning to ask, “God, who are You shaping me to be now?” And I’m learning to trust that His hands are gentler than mine.

Letting go isn’t about failure or weakness. It’s about faith. It’s a holy exchange: my control for His peace, my plans for His purpose, my striving for His sufficiency.

So here’s the prayer I’ve been praying, maybe it’s one your heart needs too:

“God, help me release what’s no longer mine to carry. Help me to trust You with what I can’t yet see. And give me the courage to become who You’ve called me to be, even if it looks different from what I imagined.”

I’ll let go,

make it easy,

and just let go.

Because sometimes the holiest thing we can do is open our hands and trust that He’s still writing a good story, even here.

What is God inviting you to release in this season?

Where might He be creating space for something new to grow?

Let's see what he unlocks for you.

Growing Me

Can I be real for a second?

Lately I have been struggling with waiting and trusting God. I was talking with a friend the other day about something I was struggling with and she said "What if God wants to use this as an opportunity to grow you?" I sat there in disbelief but also wondering if maybe she was right. What if this growth moment, was just what I needed to activate my faith?

Growth isn’t always pretty. Sometimes, it’s exciting—new opportunities, fresh starts, clear progress. Other times, it’s frustrating—waiting, struggling, feeling stuck. But through it all, I’ve learned that God is always working, even when I don’t see it.

I have learned that I grow best when I stay connected to God. The times I’ve felt most lost were when I was trying to control everything on my own. But when I take a step back, pray, and listen, I start to see how He’s guiding me—even in the little things.

I’ve had moments where I was desperate for clarity, but all I got was silence. At the time, it felt like nothing was happening. Looking back, I realize that was when my faith was growing the most.

Growth is uncomfortable—it forces me to step into things before I feel “ready.” I’ve felt this in leadership roles, in my health journey, and most of all, in learning to set boundaries.

For the longest time, I struggled to say no. I didn’t want to disappoint people. But constantly pouring into others while neglecting myself wasn’t sustainable. Learning to protect my time and energy was hard at first, but now I see how necessary it is.

I’ve learned that my environment shapes me more than I realize. I’ve been in spaces where I felt stuck, and when I looked closer, it was because I was surrounded by doubt—whether from myself or others.

Things changed when I started seeking out people who encouraged me, challenged me, and believed in me. Now, I’m intentional about who I let speak into my life, and I try to be that kind of person for others, too.

Growth isn’t a race. Some seasons, I see progress. Other seasons, I feel like nothing is happening. But even then, I trust that God is still growing me in ways I can’t see yet.

So, I’m choosing to embrace where I am right now. To take the next step, even if it’s small. To trust that the best version of me is still unfolding.

How are you growing in this season? Let’s encourage each other on this journey.

God,

Thank you, that even when growing hurts, that your love is always there leading and guiding us. Thank you for the gift of growth, the challenges, the lessons, and the transformation you are working in us. Give us the wisdom to trust your timing. I pray that each new season of growth would lead us closer to you.

Amen.