I woke up from a dream wrapped in golden light and movement — a vision of me leading a procession in flag dancing. I was wearing a flowing white dress, the kind that breathes like worship, and my hands held large, gold flags that shimmered with every motion. Before me stood a crowd of all ages, their eyes not fixed on me but lifted toward something greater. Somehow, I knew in my spirit — this was not performance; this was prophecy. A declaration. A holy dance of deliverance.

My heart stirred awake with this phrase echoing deep within: This is the day the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it.

For years, I’ve journeyed through shadows — from the bruises of rejection to the silence of deep grief, from abandonment in childhood closets to the raw unravelling of generational trauma. So much of my healing, as captured in my Elijah House testimony, has been about letting God peel back the layers — not to shame me, but to set me free. To remind me that the girl who once hid in fear was always meant to rise and lead. Not in her own strength, but in the rhythm of redemption.

The flags in my hands weren’t just fabric — they were banners of God’s faithfulness. Symbols of the many ways He’s restored my soul. In my weakness, He has been my refuge. In my wandering, His Word has lit the way. Through every misstep, He has lifted me, dusted me off, and guided my feet again.

This dream felt like an invitation to reclaim territory once lost. To shout His fame not only with my words but with the movement of my whole being. To live a life that worships — boldly, unashamedly, joyfully.

Even now, as I reflect, I am reminded:

Sometimes healing looks like stillness. Sometimes it looks like tears. And sometimes — like this morning’s dream — it looks like movement, like waving golden banners over the ashes of your past, proclaiming, He has made me new.

So Jesus, I decide to live a life that shouts Your fame. Let every step I take be one of surrender and sanctification, led not by fear but by fire — the fire of Your Spirit dancing in me.