In My Own World

Birthdays have a way of making us pause, reflect, and look at life with a little more honesty. As I celebrate mine this year, I can’t help but think about the many times I asked the Lord not to wake me up anymore. Yet, He still did. And now I understand why—because if He didn’t, I wouldn’t be here to see the beauty that life still has to offer. I wouldn’t have witnessed the quiet miracles that unfold every day, reminding me that even in the midst of struggles, life can still surprise us with joy. The future remains uncertain, but today I hold on to hope. I’m thankful for the year that has passed—the lessons, the moments of sadness I’ve learned to release, and the fears I’ve slowly begun to let go of. More than anything, I am hopeful for the days ahead. I believe that, in God’s time, everything will fall into place exactly as it should. I had plans for how I wanted to celebrate this birthday, and they didn’t happen. But there is peace in me knowing that just because it didn’t happen tod...

There’s something about birthdays that always makes me pause and reflect. Maybe it’s because another year has been added, or maybe it’s because life has a way of reminding me that time doesn’t stand still. This year, though, the reflection feels heavier than usual. I know why things have to change. I’ve played the reasons over and over in my head, and logically, it all makes sense. But knowing doesn’t take away the sting. The sadness and anxiety often grow louder than the rational explanations, and some days it feels like my heart is carrying more weight than my mind can balance. It’s funny how life works in circles. Last year, just two days after my birthday, a new chapter opened for me—one that shaped my days, my routines, and even parts of who I became. Now, a year later, that chapter is ending right after my birthday once again. The symmetry almost feels like the universe is trying to tell me something, even if I can’t fully see the message yet. There’s a bittersweetness to it all....

Sometimes, all we need is a simple line of comfort to carry us through the day. That’s what inspired  Letters for the Quiet Hearts —a collection of words created for those who feel deeply, love quietly, and long for gentle reminders that they are not alone. Inside this book, you’ll find  11 carefully crafted quotations , each designed to speak softly to your soul. But it doesn’t end there—every quote comes with a  “hidden message”  waiting to be uncovered, along with a thoughtful  journal prompt  to help you reflect, process, and pour your heart onto the page. And because words deserve to be carried with us, each quotation can also be used as a  wallpaper —so you can keep a piece of encouragement on your phone, always within reach. Letters for the Quiet Hearts  isn’t just something to read; it’s something to sit with, to return to, and to grow alongside. ✨  Letters for the Quiet Hearts  is now available. You can grab your copy here . Tak...

Sometimes, the most comforting words aren’t the loud ones. They’re the quiet whispers we stumble upon when we least expect it—the ones that feel like they were written just for us. That’s the heart behind  Letters for the Quiet Heart . This isn’t just a collection of words. It’s a companion for the moments when life feels a little heavier, when the world moves too fast, or when you can’t quite find the right way to explain what you’re feeling. Every letter inside is an offering—something you can carry with you on the days you need it most. I’ve poured my own stillness, struggles, and small joys into these pages. These letters are for the dreamers, the overthinkers, the ones who love deeply and feel everything a little too much. They’re for you if you’ve ever wanted someone to say,  “I understand.” Letters for the Quiet Heart  will be released on  August 23, 2025 . Until then, I hope you’ll hold space for the idea that even in silence, words can find you… and heal you...

I didn’t expect it to mean this much. At first, it was just a new thing—a new person, a new rhythm. But slowly, it became a part of me. The tasks, the small wins, the conversations. The belief in something bigger. Maybe I got too attached, maybe I cared too much—but that’s who I am.  That’s how I show up. Fully, honestly. And now, as this chapter nears its end, I feel a quiet kind of sadness. Not because it failed—but because it mattered. Because I’ll miss the way it shaped my days, my thinking, my heart. But I know I’ll carry it with me. The lessons, the laughter, the growth—it’s all mine to keep. And though the days are numbered, the mark they’ve left won’t fade. I’ll be okay. Just not right away. And that’s okay, too.

Hey you, Yes,  you —the one who’s been carrying more than you let on, the one who keeps showing up even when the weight feels heavy. I know you’ve been trying so hard lately. Trying to be better, to do better, to  be everything  for everyone. But can I gently remind you of something? You don’t have to do it all. You don’t have to have it all figured out. And you absolutely don’t have to earn your rest. You’re allowed to breathe. You’re allowed to just  be. There’s so much pressure these days, isn’t there? Pressure to hustle, to always be productive, to make every second count. But the truth is, not every moment has to be filled. Not every day has to be a masterpiece. Some days are just quiet steps forward. Some days are about surviving, not thriving—and that’s okay. Please don’t be hard on yourself for needing a break. You’re not lazy. You’re human. And humans need rest, not just physically, but emotionally, mentally, and spiritually too. If no one has told you today...

Some days just hit differently. You're tired, you're trying your best, and suddenly—out of nowhere—something small, something seemingly unimportant, cracks something deep inside. You shrug it off at first. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep. Maybe it’s the pressure of having to show up when your body’s barely keeping up. Or maybe it’s just one of those days when everything feels a little too loud. And then it happens—that familiar sting. You thought you were past it. You really did. You’ve moved on, healed, laughed, grown. But one moment—a word, a silence, a change in plans—and there it is again. That old emotion, back like it never left. It surprises you, really. You didn’t expect it to still hurt. But maybe that’s okay. Healing was never a straight line. And just because the wound reopens for a second doesn’t mean you’re back at square one. It only means you’re human. And it only means you cared—maybe more than you should have, maybe more than anyone realized. Tomorrow’s a new day....