God Formed Me

​God has been the one steady thread through every version of my life. Before I knew how to read. Before I could write my own name clearly. Before I could even understand the language of the world around me. I was the baby of eleven and somehow also the oldest of four. I learned early how to be small and how to be strong at the same time. I learned how to observe. How to listen. How to survive in spaces where adults were tired and children were raising children. When I was taken in by my brother and his wife, when I had to learn how to read and spell as a teenager, when I felt behind and ashamed and quiet, God never treated me as behind. God never spoke to me like I was less. The voice of God in my life has never been loud or condemning. It has always been steady. Firm. Kind. Clear. Even when it corrects me, it corrects me with love. I have walked away from both families. Not out of hatred but out of obedience to something deeper. Sometimes obedience looks like leaving what formed you so you can become who you are meant to be. Moving to Mexico was not rebellion. It was a return. A stripping away. A wilderness. And in that wilderness I found out who I was when no one was watching. When no one needed me to be the baby or the strong one or the quiet one. In God’s eyes I was never the forgotten child. I was never the mistake. I was never behind. I was being shaped. God has been mother when I needed softness. Father when I needed direction. Sister when I needed understanding. Brother when I needed protection. Stranger when I needed to trust without knowing. Friend when I needed to sit in silence and not explain myself. God shows up in every role, in every season, always offering growth. And growth is not always comfortable. God’s judgment is not flesh judgment. It is not humiliation. It is not shaming. It is a refining fire that you feel in your chest. A quiet knowing. A nudge that says, you can be better than this. You can love deeper than this. You can choose integrity here. And even when it is hard, it is kind. It never exposes to embarrass. It reveals to heal. Yeshua to me is my brother. An ordinary man who showed what it looks like to live awake. To speak truth without ego. To walk with the rejected. To stand firm without violence. He showed me that power does not have to be loud. That love is strength. That obedience is freedom. He showed me that the Kingdom is within and that we are capable of walking in it now. Not perfect. Not polished. But willing. My life has not been easy. But it has been guided. Every loss has carved space. Every ending has cleared ground. Every correction has refined me. And through all of it, God has remained. Not distant. Not abstract. Present. Faithful. Steady. I am not self-made. I am God-formed. And every step, even the painful ones, have been invitations to grow into the woman I already was in God’s eyes.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I Was Never Taught How to Be Healthy

​ 2 years ago, after coming back from Mexico, my hair started falling out… not just a little clumps. But the truth is, I had been silently dealing with things in my body long before that. Skin flare-ups, imbalance, discomfort that never fully went away. I went to the doctor, did what I was told, used the creams, followed the steps, trusting that it would work. But it never actually healed anything. It would quiet things down for a season, make it feel manageable, and then it would come right back. No one ever talked to me about my gut, about my nervous system, about my body as a whole living system that needs balance to function. It was always about fixing the symptom, not understanding the root.  As a licensed cosmetologist, I’ve worked closely with products, ingredients, hair, and skin for years, and that’s part of what made this even louder for me. I started to really see what we are surrounded by, what we’re told is safe, normal, necessary. And my body began rejecting it. My sk...
Read more

When Love Is Said But Not Lived

There is a love that is spoken fluently but never lived. It rolls off the tongue like scripture. It sounds devoted. It sounds sacred. But it is hollow. It has no embodiment. No sacrifice. No alignment between word and action. Some people fall in love with the sound of themselves loving you. They love the role. The image. The audience. They love being seen as devoted more than they love being devoted. And you feel the fracture immediately. It’s subtle. A glance that lingers too long. A tone that shifts. A defensiveness that rises too quickly. Your body registers it before your mind can explain it. But when you speak, they turn it back on you. You’re insecure. You’re projecting. You’re dramatic. Slowly, your clarity gets labeled as chaos. Gaslighting is not just lying. It is the rewriting of your reality while you are standing inside it. It is being told that what you see is not there. That what you feel is irrational. That your intuition is dangerous. And if you stay long enough, ...
Read more

When “I Love You” Starts Feeling Scary

​ The Last Two Years The last two years have probably been some of the hardest years of my life. Not because life completely fell apart, but because I had to learn how to keep living while carrying heartbreak, disappointment, grief, and fear all at the same time. There is something deeply painful about giving people your full trust, your softness, your honesty, and then having to rebuild yourself afterward when things break. Walking away from what hurts you is not for the weak. People talk about leaving like it’s empowering and freeing, but they don’t always talk about the darkness that follows. The lonely nights. The second guessing. The grief that comes in waves. The moments where your nervous system no longer knows what safety feels like around another human being. I think one of the hardest things for me has been learning how to feel safe with people again. Not just romantic relationships, but people in general. When trust gets broken deeply enough, your body remembers. Your ...
Read more