Ramblings of A Recoverist

11/15/2025

11/09/2025

My people are good.
They are with me, always.
Connected.
Reflected.
Yes, my people are good.

Love, my people are love.
It shows, and I know, I am loved.
Connected.
Reflected.
Yes, my people are love.

In His beautiful time we make our way to each other,
Or the ones meant to be will open their eyes and see.
I know my people, my people know me.
Thank you Lord for all you have given me.

11/04/2025

I’m not who I was.
This.is.who.I.AM.

10/27/2025

I’ve made it this far.
Survived the hardest day.
Even when I didn’t think I could.
I did it. And I can do it again.
I can do it over and over.
One day at a time.

10/23/2025

Not my ramblings, but I could have penned every word. I feel this to my core. My life story.

10/23/2025

🙌🏼🫶🏽

There comes a moment when you realize—no one else is coming. No one else is going to pray that prayer for your family. No one else is going to break that curse. No one else is going to step up and stand in the gap. It’s you. You are the voice for your family at the throne of grace.

You might not wear a title. You might not have a pulpit. But don’t get it twisted—heaven hears you. Every word you whisper in your car, every tear you shed behind closed doors, every time you say, “God, please protect them”—those aren’t just emotions. Those are weapons.

See, some of you come from families that never had someone praying over them. Generations of pain, addiction, betrayal, dysfunction—just handed down like a cursed inheritance. But now… it’s different. Because you’re standing in between what was and what will be. You’re the bridge. The intercessor. The one hell hoped would stay quiet.

When you pray, you shift things you can’t even see. You’re not just talking to God; you’re opening spiritual doors for your bloodline. You’re calling down mercy over your children, protection over your home, strength over your spouse, peace over your own mind.

And yeah, it’s hard. Some nights you pray with no words left, just tears. Some mornings you wake up and wonder if it’s even working. But here’s the truth—your prayers are echoing in heaven long after you finish speaking them. You’re sowing seeds in the unseen.

So don’t stop praying just because you don’t see results yet. Don’t stop interceding because it feels quiet. Heaven’s silence doesn’t mean God’s inaction. It means He’s working behind the scenes, rearranging the impossible in your favor.

You may not see it now, but you’re breaking chains your kids will never have to carry. You’re rewriting a story that’s been messy for generations. You’re changing the direction of an entire bloodline simply by refusing to stop praying.

You are the voice for your family at the throne of grace.
So speak up.
Stand firm.
And keep praying.

Because heaven hears you… even when the world doesn’t.

— j. anthony |

10/18/2025

Yessss 🙌🏼 MOMMA

10/03/2025

10/03/2025

When I was about two or three years old, I sat on a cactus. My parents needed to take me to the ER where they had to remove-individually- little needles that were stuck in my rear end.

When I was eight years old, I was racing on my bicycle, and as I was coming around a corner, I rolled my bike and subsequently my body flew off and I managed to shatter the bones in my left wrist. When the orthopedic doctor went to set my wrist they dislocated my elbow, but before they did that they went to inject the anesthetic and it just squirted right out, I proceeded to scream the entire time so much so that they escorted my mother out of the room so that she did not have to bear witness to her daughter in excruciating pain as for medical professional professionals held me down, and they proceeded to set my wrist and wrap me in a cast up to my armpit.

I imagine I hurt myself many times over between then and the time I was 17 but the next one I’m gonna list here was a doozy. One week before I turned 18 my face managed to go through a glass window. My mouth was cut, and I literally had a gaping wound which left me open from the inside out. Neither one of my parents were in the state that I was in, so I sat in the ER waiting for them to get permission to do all the things. On a Sunday afternoon a plastic surgeon was brought in to do an assessment and figure out how to safely and efficiently stitch the inside of my lower gum line together, the inside of my lip, and the outside of my face. After about 15 hours in that ER, I was finally stitched together again there’s a lot more details but I don’t suppose I have to go into all of that.

When I was 31 years old, I blew my right knee out. I had to have two separate surgeries on that knee. I was not able to fully walk for a whole year. I do not have all the parts that are necessary in that right knee yet I am able to use it at full capacity. I don’t fully understand, but I’m grateful to God and that’s the only Thing that makes sense.

I have been physically hurt over and over again in my life, I can handle the physical pain. There’s no doubt in my mind. I am a survivor of relationship violence, domestic violence. I have been emotionally abused. I have been mentally abused. I. Can. Handle. It.

I present the litany of these things because as we approach a looming Armageddon of whatever humans might bring upon us, I draw near to what our heavenly father tells us and that is “I AM WITH YOU”— and that is what is repeating in my mind and in my heart lately. It is what I am hearing —“I am with you and I want you with me.”

So I’m reminding myself that pain is just pain. It is temporary, but God’s love is forever and that is where I need to fix my eyes and let that linger. 💜✝️

10/02/2025

AM I SAFE HERE?

That is the question my soul searches for. With each person. In each situation. In a friendship. In a moment. In my words. Can I say that? Should I say that? What if I… what should I…

09/08/2025

My choice, one day at a time.

08/03/2025

Sobriety is all I have. It is the shield that covers and protects everything else that I am. With it comes my honor, my integrity, my strength, and my grit.