That’s exactly how I felt after baking sourdough the other day. I scraped the last of my starter from the jars, looked inside, and thought, Lord… that’s how I feel. Poured out. Empty. I could have washed the jars and started over, but instead I left them sitting on the counter for a couple of days. Then I decided to see what would happen if I simply fed what was left. One jar came back to life almost immediately. The other… Nothing. Flat. Sour. It looked like there wasn’t enough left to save. The next day I fed it again. Still nothing. But the following morning… Tiny bubbles. Life. Not because I had worked harder. Simply because I kept feeding what was already there. As I stood looking at those jars, I realized something else had come back to life overnight… Not just the starter… but hope in me. Hope that what feels empty isn’t always empty. Hope that what looks lifeless isn’t always dead. It reminded me of Jesus’ words: “Behold, I stand at the door and knock…” (Revelation 3:20) Maybe He’s not asking us to start over. Maybe He’s simply inviting us back to the table. Back to fresh Bread. Back to Living Water. Back to receiving from the One who has never stopped dwelling within us. Don’t mistake slow growth for no growth. Keep coming. Keep receiving. Keep feeding on Him. One day you’ll begin to see the bubbles… and realize He was restoring you all along.

Many Christian songs sound encouraging on the surface, but can quietly train the heart to live in questioning faith instead of settled union. If you find yourself singing along and hear yourself asking God can He, will He, or to “Come again”, “do it again”- then this may be for you today. He Already Has There is a kind of faith that keeps asking, “Can He?” “Will He?” “Does He see me?” “Will He come through?” “Will He show up?” And for many of us, that question has felt holy. Because we have been taught that faith means standing in the waiting, wondering if God will move, hoping He will answer, trying to believe hard enough that maybe this time He will prove Himself faithful. But the New Covenant does not leave us standing outside the door, begging God to come near. The Gospel announces something far better: He already has. Jesus did not come to show us that God might be faithful. He came as the faithfulness of God in flesh. He did not come to prove that God could rescue. He came as the rescue. He did not come to help us wonder whether the Father sees us. He came to reveal the Father who had never looked away. This matters because the question “Can He?” can keep a person living in uncertainty. It can keep the heart positioned as though God is still distant, still deciding, still waiting to see if we believe enough, pray enough, surrender enough, or perform enough before He comes close. But Christ in us changes the question. We are not waiting to see if God will show up. He already has. The Holy Spirit is not a future possibility. He is the indwelling reality of the believer. The Father is not standing far off, measuring our ability to trust Him. He has already made His home in us through Christ. So now faith is not me trying to convince myself that God can. Faith becomes the quiet, settled knowing: He is. He has. He does. He lives in me. That does not mean every circumstance changes immediately. It does not mean every prayer is answered the way my fear demands.

James 4:7 “Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.”James 4:7 For so long, many of us have heard the word submit and felt something in us tighten. Because to a wounded heart, submission can sound like losing yourself.It can sound like becoming small.It can sound like silence, shame, control, or having no voice. But that is not the heart of the Father. In the Kingdom, surrender is not God asking you to disappear.It is the Father inviting you to stop carrying what was never yours to carry. Submitting to God is not crawling toward Him in fear.It is returning to the One who has always been safe. It is saying: “Father, I do not want to live from the old soil anymore.I do not want to be led by fear, pressure, survival, shame, or the need to protect myself.I do not want the kingdom of this world to keep telling me who I am, what I lack, or what I must prove.I come under Your truth again.Your love.Your authority.Your way of seeing me.” That is surrender. Not punishment.Not performance.Not begging God to be near. It is alignment. It is letting Holy Spirit unravel the places where we have been living attached to the wrong kingdom — the kingdom of fear, lack, control, accusation, and striving — and bringing those places back under the authority of Love. James says, submit to God. Not because God is harsh.But because He is good. Not because He is waiting to take something from us.But because He is trying to free us from everything that has been taking life from us. Then James says, resist the devil. This is where we have to understand our position. The enemy does not have authority over a life hidden in Christ.But he will try to convince us he does. He will whisper the old things: “You are still alone.”“You are still rejected.”“You are too far gone.”“You are not really changed.”“You have to fix this yourself.”“God is disappointed in you.”“You should be afraid.”

It has been a bit since I've been on Skool. I apologize! I was called back into the workforce and it has been all consuming. I am now back and doing the homework to begin growing this community and start growing together. Thank you for your patience! I miss all of you and look forward to what is coming for all of us together! Please comment and let me know what I can pray for you in this season. Love and hugs to all!

I keep hearing this deep in my spirit lately: “Don’t be afraid to let people see the exposed root.” And honestly…that feels vulnerable. Because sometimes it feels easier to cover the raw places with teaching. To explain the wound instead of letting people see the healing process still happening. But roots are not exposed to shame us. Sometimes they are exposed so healing can finally reach what was hidden. The truth is: healing is rarely polished. Growth can look messy before it looks fruitful. Even in nature, before a plant can be transplanted into healthier soil, the roots must first be uncovered. Maybe that’s why so many of us resist the unraveling. Not because we don’t want freedom—but because exposure feels so vulnerable. And yet God never exposes roots to condemn us.He exposes them to heal us. The beautiful thing about Jesus is that He never demanded perfection before intimacy.He stepped directly into the broken places. And maybe the greatest freedom comes when we stop trying to appear fully healed…and instead allow Love to meet us honestly in the process. Not hiding behind strength.Not hiding behind “good teaching.” Not hiding behind spiritual language. Just being real enough to let Him heal us deeply—and loving others from that place too. Maybe the exposed root is not proof you are failing. Maybe it is proof God is finally healing something at the source. 🌱 The Unraveled Life