A Year In Review

This Year Formed Me More Than I Expected

When I look back at this past year, I do not see something polished. I do not see a neat arc where I learned a lesson, applied it effortlessly, and wrapped it in a bow.

What I see is God steadily doing slow, honest work in me.
Some of it was beautiful.
Some of it hurt.
A lot of it surprised me.

I did not write this year because I had anything mastered. I wrote because I was being formed. Because God kept showing me places in my heart, my thinking, and my rhythms where He wanted to restore what had gotten tangled and gently dismantle what was never rooted in Him to begin with.

Becoming Rooted

Much of the year carried a theme of becoming rooted.

Not surface rootedness.
Not “look stable on the outside” rootedness.

More like the kind that holds when life shifts.
The kind that asks you to stay when leaving would feel easier.
The kind that asks you to trust God’s hand, even when He places it on something you would rather avoid.

That is where I found myself most often.

Letting Go

There were real moments of letting go. And not the tidy version where we declare we are fine while still clinging inside.

This was release.

Release of:
• identities
• inner narratives
• quiet expectations I did not realize I was carrying

Some of it came with grief.
Some of it came with relief.
Most of it required surrender.

Learning Rest

There were invitations to rest too.

Not pretty rest.
Not curated calm.

Rest that slowed me internally.
Rest that reminded me that abiding in Christ is not passive. It is deeply active in ways that never show up on a checklist.

I am still learning how to rest honestly instead of performing peace.

Truth That Would Not Let Me Pretend

Truth worked its way through everything this year.

Gentle truth.
Confronting truth.
Truth that would not let me pretend.

God has not been trying to polish me. He has been forming me. And even when that feels uncomfortable, I do not want anything less.

And as the year came to a close, it did not magically soften into ease. It carried gratitude and ache at the same time. Joy and tension. Hope and reality.

And somehow, that felt honest enough to trust God in.

Who I Am Writing To

If you have been here long enough, you already know this space is not a brand strategy.

I am not always sure who I am writing to.

Some days I am simply telling the truth to myself.
Other days I am writing for any woman who is tired of surface faith and wants something real and restorative, even when it is costly.

Maybe it is both.

Where I Think I Am Heading

I am not stepping into this next season with hype or a slogan.

What I sense instead is:
• preparation
• continued surrender
• and yes, more pruning

Not as punishment. As love.

God has already begun addressing false narratives I have carried. Quiet inner stories about identity, security, purpose, timing, what “healthy” should look like, and what “growth” should feel like.

He is untangling those gently.
It is humbling.
It feels like freedom.

He is touching expectations too. Spoken ones and hidden ones. Expectations around relationships, seasons, calling, and how life should look by now.

I am learning to set those down.
Not in resignation.
In trust.

This reaches relationships too. Some will deepen. Some may shift. Some may loosen. Not from bitterness. From obedience. Sometimes love means letting God redefine connection and season.

“Let’s Go Die”

Then there was a moment that helped frame how I see what is ahead.

My dear friend Karla, who is truly my ride or die, sent me a New Year’s text. Somewhere in the middle of that message were three simple words.

Let’s go die.

And I smiled.

Because she is the friend who always calls me back to who I am in Christ. The one who reminds me what this life is actually about. So when she wrote it, it did not shock me. It strengthened me. It felt deeply right.

A call back to John 11:16 "Let us also go, that we may die with him"

Not despair.
Not drama.
Devotion.

A willingness to follow Jesus wherever He leads, even when it costs something. A willingness to lay down false selves, false security, practiced expectations, and anything that keeps us from living fully in Him.

The Invitation

Honestly, that feels like the invitation I am extending to anyone walking alongside me in this season too.

If you want safe, predictable, surface faith, I may not be your person.

But if you want:
• honest discipleship
• deep restoration
• abiding that actually transforms us

Then come on.
Let’s go die to what keeps us from life.

Die to pretending.
Die to performing.
Die to control.
Die to fear.
Die to smallness and the stories that keep us there.

Not so we disappear.
So that we finally live.

So Here Is Where I Am

I am stepping into this new year with open hands.

Steady.
Willing.

Trusting that whatever God prunes, He intends to redeem. Whatever He removes, He intends to replace with something rooted, healthy, faithful, and real.

If you are somewhere on this journey too, I am grateful we get to walk together, even loosely.

Here is to deeper restoration.
Honest discipleship.
Real abiding.

Whatever that looks like in the days ahead.

Here is to being rooted. And raw. Still.