12/05/2025
Okay God…
I’m looking at these two pictures
and I don’t even recognize the woman I used to be.
The first one—
the sweatshirt that says Coach…
I remember that day.
I was terrified.
I was still shaking from the weight of all the years before it—
the domestic violence,
the hiding inside a body that wasn’t built from love but from survival,
the cancer scares,
the nights I prayed not to wake up,
the mornings I begged You to show me something—
anything—
that proved my life still mattered.
And You just kept saying,
‘Walk. Just walk.’
So I opened the gym even though I didn’t feel qualified.
I built a community before I even believed in myself.
I opened a yoga studio too fast the first time
because I was still trying to outrun my own shadow.
And then I opened it again—
this time from truth,
not trauma.
And every time I whispered,
‘I don’t think I can do this,’
You whispered back,
‘You already are.’
And now…
now I’m looking at this second photo—
the 3rd podcast studio—
and it hits me:
God, You didn’t just walk me out of hell.
You walked me into purpose.
Into calling.
Into a voice I didn’t know I had.
I thought I was losing weight.
I thought I was surviving violence.
I thought I was building businesses.
I thought I was finding faith again.
But You were doing something else entirely:
You were building a messenger.
You were giving me back my life so I could speak life into others.
You were turning every wound into a doorway.
Every breakdown into a blueprint.
Every ‘Why me?’ into a woman who finally understands:
This was never about punishment.
It was preparation.
So, God…
here I am.
Nine years later.
Sitting in front of a microphone again,
heart in my throat,
ready to tell the truth out loud.
And You’re still saying the same thing:
‘Walk. Just walk.
I’ll take it from here.’
The book is coming.
The podcast is coming.
And this time—
I’m not running from the calling.
I’m running with it.
