This is my Personal Morning Prayer Good morning, Lord. Thank You that I can feel my breath. That I can hear the birdies singing. That I am awake, aware, and alive. Today, Lord, I ask You to drown out the noise — the outside voices, the inner chatter — and remind me how happy You want me to be. So today, I am asking Your permission to do what makes Debra happy. And I promise, I will always ask You if it makes You happy too. Thank You for allowing me to hear Your Voice. I've learned to recognize Your Voice over the years, I will know in my spirit if You approve or not. Let me hear only Your Voice today, I pray. As I breathe in the soft, familiar fragrance of the perfume I’ve worn for over fifty years —a scent that smells like me —I’m reminded You have known me through every season of my life. Now, as I slowly open my eyes, I pray reverently that I will see every person eye to eye that you put in my path today the way You see them. Lord, You give me plenty of resources and opportunities. Help me recognize them. Help me notice the God-winks,the quiet nudges,the divine appointments hidden inside ordinary moments. Give me courage to obey quickly when You prompt me. Let me not hesitate when You are moving. And when this day is done, Lord, whisper to me before I fall asleep: “Well done, My good and faithful servant.I entrusted you with My gifts,and you used them wisely and faithfully.” You said if I am faithful over a few things, You will entrust me with more and invite me to enter into the joy of the Lord. I can’t imagine what the Joy of the Lord will be like…but I long for it. I long for eternal fellowship with You. Send Your Holy Spirit — my Helper —to guide me, steady me, and help me use my gifts wisely and faithfully today. Amen. Grandma Grady

LOVE, MIRACLES & A MOTHER’S MEMORY The house is quiet this morning. A softer kind of quiet. The kind that comes when your heart is full before the day has even begun. Today is my daughter’s birthday. And as I sat with my coffee, talking with God, my mind drifted back 53 years… to a small mobile home tucked into the lush valley hills of Dover, Tennessee. I can still see it. Red clay roads. Morning fog hanging low in the holler. A town so small nearly everyone worked at the same place — Ely Walker pants factory, including me. I was pregnant with my miracle. Three doctors had told me I would never carry a child full term. But there I was… sewing belt loops onto men’s blue jeans. Promoted later to ticket clerk in the office. Working right up until two weeks before she was born. Her father, my husband worked at the sawmill with his father — hauling those massive logs that looked a mile long on the back of the hauler trucks. He was an off-bearer then — catching and stacking the lumber as it came off the saw. Hard, honest work. After our shifts, we would go back to the mill and shovel sawdust into 25-pound potato sacks. Load the back of the pickup truck as full as it would go. Drive thirty minutes to Clarksville to Frosty Morn Meat Packing that processed beef and pork, where that sawdust was used on their kill floor. One dollar a bag. That was extra money. That was provision. That was doing whatever it took. And then… three minutes before midnight… my sweet girl entered this world. My love child. My miracle child. The one they said would never be. And here she is today — 53 years later — living proof that doctors don’t have the final say. God does. The world looks so different now. Technology. Noise. Speed. But some things never change. A mother’s love. The sun rising and setting. God’s steady hand over our lives. And as I sit here remembering who I was then… and who I am now… I am overwhelmed with gratitude for every hard season that shaped us. Because nothing was wasted.

FRIDAY ~ FAVOR, FAITH & CELEBRATION Early morning today. Earlier than my usual 5:00 a.m. The house is still quiet. Darkness just beginning to soften at the edges of the sky. There’s an energy in the air. Not nervous. Not anxious.Just… anticipation. Today is Friday the 13th. A date that has never carried superstition for me.Years ago, on a Friday the 13th, I found a $20 bill. Since then, I always find something — a penny, a dime, a dollar — and I smile. My little “money from Heaven” reminder. One and three. Lucky numbers for me. My birthdate backwards. My My baby sister born on the 13th. Move-in dates. New jobs. Fresh beginnings. The 13th has always whispered favor to me — not fear. And today…today is a big one. Tonight is Night to Shine 2026. 👑✨ Over 970 churches. All 50 states. Over 70 countries. Thousands and thousands of Kings and Queens being celebrated. I’ve been up early because my heart is already there. With the gowns.The corsages.The red carpets.The parents wiping tears.The volunteers cheering. There is something so holy about celebrating someone the world often overlooks. And as I sip my coffee this morning, I think about how interesting it is —that a day many call “unlucky” is a day I have always associated with blessing. Perspective changes everything. TODAY’S REFLECTION What if the date you feared is actually marked for favor? What if the label you’ve accepted isn’t the truth at all? God has a way of turning what others call unlucky into something deeply beautiful. PRAYER God, Thank You for reframing things in my life. For turning superstition into celebration. For marking my days with quiet reminders that You are in control. Tonight, as thousands of special needs Kings and Queens are honored across the world, let Your joy flood every room. Let parents feel seen. Let volunteers feel purposeful. Let every child feel crowned, cherished, and adored. Help us remember that You determine favor — not a date on a calendar. And if today is marked with blessing, help us recognize it.

THURSDAY ~ SUNLIGHT & SURRENDER The sun poured in early this morning. Not timid light. Not filtered light. Full, golden, steady sunshine across the kitchen table. After weeks of watching snow settle and temperatures dip, today felt like a gentle exhale. The kind of morning where you open the curtains a little wider and let the warmth rest on your shoulders while your coffee cools beside you. I spent the early hours putting the final touches on Night to Shine — our beautiful Kings and Queens, the details, the final confirmations, the quiet tying up of loose ends. My heart feels full knowing what’s about to unfold. And now… I let it rest. Nine months until we begin again. A rhythm. A season. A pause. I completed half of my monthly Mental Health newsletter as well. Words carefully chosen. Sentences shaped with intention. There is something sacred about writing for others when you know someone may read it on a hard day. And yet, woven through all of this productivity… was something softer. Today I slowed down. I rested. Before I take my daughter to the hospital for her pre-op appointment — before next Wednesday arrives — I allowed myself to reflect a little deeper than usual. The kind of reflection that requires quiet. The kind that brings tears you didn’t expect. I shared my "Letter to My Daughter" in the "Stories of People of Wisdom" section this morning. Two hours. So many tears. Some heavy. Some healing. There is a tenderness that surfaces when you write what your heart has carried for years. Sunlight on the table. Tasks completed. Love, poured onto paper.And beneath it all… surrender. TODAY’S REFLECTION There are days for productivity. And there are days for presence. Sometimes God gives us both in the same morning. When you allow space to feel — not just function — clarity begins to rise. What you pray in private often prepares you for what is coming. PRAYER God, Thank You for sunlight after long stretches of cold. Thank You for purpose in service and tenderness in motherhood. As we prepare for next week, steady our hearts. Cover our children with Your peace. Give us strength where we feel fragile and courage where we feel uncertain.

WEDNESDAY ~ PURPOSE IN MOTION The air felt different this morning. Not warm exactly… but softer. After weeks of bitter cold and heavy layers, today the temperature finally rose just enough for me to step outside without bracing myself against it. I opened the door slowly and let that fresh air touch my face. The snow is still here, but it’s melting at the edges. The sound of water dripping from the gutters felt like a quiet promise. Seasons shift. And so do we. After my time with the Lord this morning, I stood outside longer than I needed to… just breathing. Thinking about how grateful I am that I stepped out of retirement instead of shrinking into it. Stepping out of retirement wasn’t about going back to work. It was about stepping forward into purpose. There’s something powerful about choosing not to coast. About deciding that your experience still matters. That your voice still carries weight. That serving others doesn’t expire at a certain age. When I chose to build Ageless Wisdom… when I chose to align with mentorship and systems that allow me to serve from home… when I chose to show up daily even when it’s cold, even when it’s hard… That was me stepping into motion again. And today, standing outside in the softened air, I realized something: Purpose keeps you warm in seasons that would otherwise feel cold. TODAY’S REFLECTION Retirement can be a resting place…but it doesn’t have to be your final chapter. There is still purpose in you.There is still impact in you.There is still someone who needs what you carry. PRAYER God, Thank You for seasons that change and for the courage to change with them. Thank You for purpose that does not retire and for opportunities to serve no matter our age. Help us step forward when fear whispers to stay comfortable. Remind us that usefulness and calling do not expire. May we never settle for small when You are still writing our story. Warm our hearts as the weather warms today.Keep us moving with intention. Amen. 🙏 Until tomorrow, may you feel useful, connected, and hopeful—and remember, you are never alone.