There is a unique grief in discovering that someone you called “friend” was never truly that. It is not only the loss of their presence, but the collapse of the story you told yourself about what you thought you had. You invested loyalty, laughter, and tears. You offered love, patience, and trust. Only to realise, with the slow ache of hindsight, that it was never mutual. The wound cuts deep because it touches our longing for connection — the belief that someone saw us, valued us, and would hold what we gave with equal care. When that turns out to be a mirage, the heart feels betrayed, not only by them but by our own hope. Yet even here, truth is a mercy. For when falsehood is stripped away, what remains is the space for authentic, God-breathed relationships. Scripture gently reminds us: 📖 "The righteous should choose his friends carefully, for the way of the wicked leads them astray." — Proverbs 12:26 (NKJV) True friendship is marked by reciprocity — not in perfection, but in sincerity. It is shaped by love that honours, patience that endures, and a loyalty that mirrors Christ’s love for us. Though it hurts, losing what was never truly real is not the end of love; it is a doorway to deeper, purer connections aligned with God’s heart. You are not foolish for believing in someone. You are brave for loving fully, even when it wasn’t returned. What breaks you today will one day become the soil from which steadfast friendships will grow. 🙌Prayer: Lord Jesus, thank You that You are the truest Friend who will never leave nor forsake me. Heal the places where betrayal has left me raw. Guard my heart from bitterness, yet teach me to discern wisely whom I allow close. Surround me with relationships that reflect Your truth, integrity, and love. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

A lot of our explosive emotional reactions aren’t really about the present moment. They are layered responses — echoes from all the times we swallowed our words, silenced our pain, and shrank back when we longed to stand tall. The trigger may be small, but it taps into a river of unexpressed grief, fear, or anger stored deep within. Those moments we couldn’t use our voice, when we didn’t feel safe to say “no,” when our emotions were dismissed as “too much” — they collect in the hidden chambers of the heart. So when something familiar arises today, the dam breaks, not just for this moment but for all the buried ones. Healing begins when we invite Jesus into those locked places of our past. Where we were voiceless, He speaks life. Where we were silenced, He calls us by name. Where we were unseen, He reminds us of His gaze that never looked away. 📖 "The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart, and saves such as have a contrite spirit." — Psalm 34:18 (NKJV) Prayer: Lord Jesus, thank You for being the One who sees beneath the surface of my reactions. Heal the places where silence once stole my voice. Teach me to respond, not from old wounds, but from the wholeness You are restoring in me. In Jesus’ Name, Amen. You are not “too much.” You are simply carrying unspoken pain that longs to be released. Little by little, as you surrender the echoes to Christ, your present will no longer be ruled by the weight of your past. You are safe, you are loved, and your voice matters.

There are chapters in my life that feel too dark to retell without trembling. The nights when despair pressed so heavily on my chest that I wondered if I would see another sunrise. The weight of shame, grief, and brokenness pulled me into a pit I thought I’d never escape. Yet here I am — alive, breathing, creating, healing. Not because of my own strength, not because I figured it out, but because God reached into the depths and lifted me up. 📖 "He also brought me up out of a horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established my steps." — Psalm 40:2 (NKJV) I cannot share my story without Him. To remove God would be to erase the very reason I survived. His mercy became my oxygen, His love my anchor, His hand my rescue. When I look back, I see not my own willpower but His relentless pursuit. Even in the pit, He was there. Even when I was too weak to pray, His Spirit interceded. Even when I doubted His goodness, His goodness held me fast. 💡 Reflection: What “pits” has God pulled you out of in your own life? 🤔 How has His rescue become part of your testimony? 🤔 Where might He be extending His hand to you today? 🤔 🙌 Prayer: Lord, thank You for lifting me when I could not lift myself. Thank You that no pit is too deep for Your love to reach. Help me never to forget that my life is living proof of Your mercy and grace. May my story point others to You, the only One who saves. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Disapproval. Such a small word, yet for many of us who have walked through complex trauma, it carries the weight of a storm. People sometimes think we are “too sensitive” when we react so strongly, but the truth is far deeper. In childhood, approval, rejection, and disapproval weren’t simply feedback — they were weapons. They were the levers abusers pulled to keep us silent, to manipulate our behaviour, to remind us that we were only as safe as their mood allowed. When love and acceptance were doled out like rations, always conditional, it left scars. I know this too well. My earliest memories are marked not by safety, but by fear. At just two years old, my head was shoved under cold water because I cried for attention. At four, I was hiding in a cupboard while crockery flew across the room during a drunken fight. Disapproval, in those moments, wasn’t correction — it was danger. It was rejection, abandonment, and humiliation wrapped into one. For decades I lived with the reflex to shrink back at the slightest hint of disapproval. My body remembered the threat even when my mind tried to dismiss it. Each raised eyebrow, each sigh, each withheld smile felt like confirmation of the lie I had believed since birth: “I am not good enough to be loved.” Yet Jesus stepped into those broken places. He reminded me of the Father’s voice over His Son before any miracle had been performed: 📖 “This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” — Matthew 3:17 (NKJV) That same voice now whispers over me: “You are My beloved daughter. I delight in you. My approval does not waver with your performance. My love is unshakable.” Healing has not been instant. It has been a long, tender journey of unravelling lies and allowing Holy Spirit to rewrite my story. Slowly I am learning that my worth is not tethered to anyone’s approval, nor is my safety at the mercy of another’s mood. 🌿 Reflection: When was the first time you felt unsafe because of disapproval or rejection? Can you imagine Jesus standing there with you, shielding you from shame and whispering, “You are Mine. You are safe with Me”?🤔 Friend, if disapproval still feels like danger in your body, please know this: you are not “too sensitive.” You are someone who has survived deep wounds, and you are learning a new way to live. You are not controlled by the hands of abusers anymore. You are held by the hands that were pierced for your freedom. 💛 You are seen. You are loved. You are safe in Him.

We were never handed an easy path. No shortcuts, no safety nets, no special favours. Everything we have today was shaped by our own hands, our own hearts, and countless sacrifices made side by side. We’ve stretched every dollar, faced every storm, and chosen—again and again—to hold each other up when it would have been easier to fall apart. What we’ve built together isn’t flawless, but it’s real. It’s strong. And it’s ours. We’re not done yet, my love. There is still more to build, more to dream, more to fight for—always shoulder to shoulder. The road has been longer for us, not because we are behind, but because we’re laying foundations that will endure. Look at how far we’ve already come. I truly believe the best is still ahead of us. Together, with God’s grace, we will continue to write a story that lasts. 📖 "Two are better than one… For if they fall, one will lift up his companion." — Ecclesiastes 4:9–10 (NKJV) 🙌Prayer Lord, thank You for the gift of covenant love. Thank You for sustaining us through seasons of lack, storms, and uncertainty, and for teaching us to lean on You and on each other. Strengthen our hands for the work still ahead, remind us daily of the beauty of what we are building, and keep our hearts united in love. May our marriage be a living testimony of Your faithfulness.In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

The way we think shapes the way we live. A Christ-centred mindset is not about striving harder but about surrendering deeper — allowing the Holy Spirit to transform our thoughts, align our attitudes with God’s truth, and guide our steps in love. These seven anchors of mindset remind us that when our minds are renewed in Christ, our lives can bear lasting fruit for His Kingdom. M — Mastery (of Mind & Spirit) Mastery begins with surrender. We don’t master life through control, but by yielding our thoughts and attitudes to Christ. 📖 "Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind." — Romans 12:2 (NKJV) I — Invest (in Eternal Treasure) The greatest investment is not in possessions, but in God’s Word, in prayer, and in equipping yourself for Kingdom purpose. 📖 "But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you." — Matthew 6:33 (NKJV) N — Nurture (with Love & Compassion) Nurture your soul in God’s presence and extend that same love to others. To nurture is to water seeds of hope. 📖 "Therefore comfort each other and edify one another, just as you also are doing." — 1 Thessalonians 5:11 (NKJV) D — Dedication (to Service & Calling) Dedication is choosing to stay faithful to the path God has called you to, even when it requires sacrifice. 📖 "Whatever you do, do it heartily, as to the Lord and not to men." — Colossians 3:23 (NKJV) S — Self-Discipline (through the Holy Spirit) Discipline is not striving in your own strength, but walking in step with the Holy Spirit, who empowers you to overcome.📖 "For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind." — 2 Timothy 1:7 (NKJV) E — Endurance (through Faith) Endurance is faith stretched over time. It’s the courage to keep trusting God’s promises when the journey feels long. 📖 "Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith." — Hebrews 12:1-2 (NKJV) T — Thoughtful (Living with Integrity & Generosity) Thoughtfulness is living intentionally — choosing words, actions, and attitudes that reflect Christ’s love and compassion. 📖 "Let each of you look out not only for his own interests, but also for the interests of others." — Philippians 2:4 (NKJV) When our hearts are rooted in Christ and our minds renewed by His truth, our steps are ordered in love, service, and faith. Living with a Kingdom mindset allows us to walk in freedom, bear good fruit, and shine His light in a world that desperately needs hope.

“Always remember you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.” Sometimes our hearts forget what Heaven already knows about us. When life presses in and whispers lies of inadequacy, God’s Word speaks louder still: 📖 “Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, Yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.” — Isaiah 41:10 (NKJV) You carry a courage that doesn’t come from yourself but from Christ within you. You are stronger because His power is perfected in your weakness. You are wiser because Holy Spirit leads you into all truth. May this be the balm for your soul today: You are more than you know, because you are His beloved.

For decades, whenever the question of purpose arose, my heart always returned to Isaiah 61:1-4. These verses became the thread that stitched together the fabric of my calling, whispering truth louder than the world’s opinions. Their words painted a vision of binding up the broken-hearted, proclaiming freedom, and rebuilding ancient ruins. It was as though God Himself had written my life’s mission into those lines before I ever drew breath. 📖 "The Spirit of the Lord God is upon Me because the Lord has anointed Me to preach good tidings to the poor; He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound." — Isaiah 61:1 (NKJV) This sense of mission was always echoed in the song "Take My Healing to the Nations" by Bob Fitts. The melody still rises within me like a prayer, carrying the cry of my heart—that what God has poured into me, He would pour out through me. To bring His healing, His love, His beauty, into the lives of the hurting. My core values—faith, love, compassion, service, and creativity—find their roots in this passage and song. They remind me that my purpose is not about recognition or ambition. It is about living as a vessel of His hope and light, carrying the message of restoration that first touched my own life. 💡 Reflection: Where has God etched His purpose into your heart through Scripture, song, or whisper? How might you carry that truth forward today?🤔 🙌Prayer: Lord, thank You for anchoring my purpose in Your Word before the world ever had an opinion. Help me to live Isaiah 61 in my everyday life, bringing Your healing and freedom to those You place before me. May my mission never be swayed by doubt or opposition, but remain steady in Your call. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Life reminds me often of my limits. My breath is numbered, my strength runs out, and my days will one day come to a close. Yet what I offer to God in obedience and love does not die with me. The brushstrokes of my art, the tenderness of my words, the prayers whispered in hidden places — these are gathered by the Eternal One, who breathes His Spirit upon them.

One day, my children will look back and see the truth: their mum was not unbreakable, but she refused to remain broken. No matter how many times life tried to shatter me, I chose to rise, to cling to the hand of Jesus, and to keep walking forward. Not because I was strong in myself, but because His strength held me together when mine gave way. I want them to remember that I never backed down, never gave up, never gave in—because love anchored me. For them, for our family, and most of all for the One who promised: 📖 "My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness." — 2 Corinthians 12:9 (NKJV) It’s not ambition that drove me, but love. It’s not perfection they will inherit, but a legacy of courage, faith, and resilience. And in those moments when I felt like ashes, God was already shaping a crown of beauty for the generations to come. 💡 Reflection: What legacy of faith, courage, or love do I hope my children (or spiritual children) will one day remember about me? 🙏 Prayer: 9Father, thank You for holding me when I could not hold myself. Help me leave behind not only memories but a living testimony of Your faithfulness. May my children carry the assurance that when life pressed hard, You were our refuge, our strength, and our song. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Sometimes people don’t need fixing. They don’t need your advice, your solutions, or even your well-meaning pep talk. They just need to be met where they are — in the rawness of their reality — and to be reminded, without a single demand placed on them, that they matter. They need someone who will sit with them without hurrying their process. Someone who will listen without turning their story into a lesson. Someone who will see beyond their brokenness and recognise the beauty God still sees in them. This is why our weekly encounter groups exist. To be a table where everyone has a seat. To be a room where tears don’t need to be explained. To be a space where masks aren’t required because there’s no performance here — only presence. 📖 "Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ." — Galatians 6:2 (NKJV) When we meet, we don’t come to fix each other. We come to carry one another’s burdens to the One who can truly heal. In His presence, walls come down and hearts begin to breathe again. 🙌Prayer: Lord Jesus, teach us to love like You love — with no strings attached and no hidden agenda. Help us to create spaces where people feel safe to be seen, known, and cherished. May our listening ears and open hearts be a reflection of Yours. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

The flesh clings to what is known. My mind often drifts back to the patterns that once felt safe, even when they were quietly suffocating me. There’s a strange security in the familiar, even if the familiar kept me bound. When God calls me forward, He often invites me into a place that feels uncertain, raw, and unfamiliar. My “new normal” never feels natural at first—it stretches me, exposes my weaknesses, and asks me to trust Him beyond the limits of my comfort. Breaking cycles always leaves a hollow pause. An empty space where the old no longer fits but the new hasn’t fully formed. That space can feel disorienting, but it’s sacred ground. It’s where God begins to plant what is better—things that align not with my old survival instincts, but with my true identity in Him. The flesh resists change because it craves the comfort of predictability. Yet Scripture reminds me that the flesh must be crucified if I’m to truly live in the Spirit. 📖 "And those who are Christ’s have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires." — Galatians 5:24 (NKJV) This is not a call to grit my teeth and “just try harder.” It’s a call to surrender. To lay down the counterfeit comfort of what’s known and take up the cross of daily discipline—not out of duty, but out of love for the One who set me free. Today, I choose not to drift back into old patterns. I will walk with Him, even when my feet tremble, trusting that every uncomfortable step forward is leading me deeper into His purpose for my life. 💡Reflection: Where am I clinging to something familiar because it feels safe, even though it no longer serves my walk with God? 🤔 How can I invite the Holy Spirit into the “blank spaces” that change creates in my life? 🤔 What practical disciplines will help me keep my eyes fixed on Jesus rather than the comfort of old habits? 🤔 🙌Prayer: Lord Jesus, I surrender my old patterns at the foot of Your cross. Help me resist the pull of the familiar when You are calling me into something greater. Teach me to embrace the discomfort of transformation, knowing it is the pathway to freedom. Fill the blank spaces with Your presence and align my heart with Your will. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Some days, coming before God feels like stepping into a courtroom — every fault laid bare, every weakness magnified. I’ve often carried that heaviness into prayer, as though His presence was a place where I had to brace for disappointment. Yet the more I walk with Him, the more I realise His heart for me is not a judge’s bench, but a garden.   In a courtroom, I’d be measuring myself against impossible standards. In a garden, I’m invited to grow.   Self-reflection in God’s presence becomes grace when I start with His love, not my failures. Before I even ask a question, I breathe in the truth: 📖 "The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in mercy." — Psalm 103:8 (NKJV)   From that place of security, I can invite Holy Spirit to walk with me gently, like a dear Friend strolling beside me, pointing out areas in my heart where something tender is starting to grow… or where weeds are crowding the roots. His conviction is never to shame, always to heal.   I’ve learned to ask questions that lift my eyes to His redemptive work: Lord, where are You growing something new in me? 🤔 What lies am I believing that You want to replace with Your truth? 🤔 How can I partner with You in this area? 🤔   When I see myself as clay in the Potter’s hands or a branch being lovingly pruned, I understand that correction is a form of care. He is shaping me into something beautiful and fruitful.   📖 "He who began a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ." — Philippians 1:6 (NKJV)   I close my time in gratitude — not because I have all the answers, but because His patience never runs out, and His promise to finish what He started is unshakable.   💡Reflection: When I sit with God, do I expect His face to be stern or smiling?💡 How might my self-reflection change if I truly believed He delights in me, even as He shapes me? 🤔   🙌Prayer: Lord, thank You that Your presence is a safe place, a place where I can bring my whole self — the beauty, the brokenness, and the parts still being mended. Help me to see myself through Your eyes, to welcome Your gentle pruning, and to trust that Your correction is rooted in love. Let my heart be a garden where grace grows stronger than guilt. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Sometimes, the Father’s correction feels like rejection. Our human hearts, especially when tender from past wounds, can easily misread His loving redirection as a withdrawal of favour. I have felt it in the quiet ache when relationships shift, in the sting of a ministry door closing, in the stillness after my creativity has been met with silence. Yet the more I sit with Him, the more I see that His correction is never about pushing me away—it’s always about pulling me closer. It’s an invitation to release what is not aligned with His heart so He can restore what is. When a relationship changes, He’s inviting me to anchor my identity in His love rather than another’s affirmation. When a role in ministry ends, He’s redirecting me to serve from rest, not exhaustion. When my creative work is met with quiet, He’s freeing me from the snare of human applause. When He asks me to let go of something good, He’s making space for something better. Correction is not condemnation. It is the gentle hand of a Father who sees the path ahead and loves me too much to let me wander into harm. 📖 "My son, do not despise the chastening of the Lord, nor be discouraged when you are rebuked by Him; for whom the Lord loves He chastens, and scourges every son whom He receives." — Hebrews 12:5-6 (NKJV) 💡Reflection: Where in my life right now do I feel shut out, unseen, or “moved aside”? 🤔 Could this be a place where God is actually drawing me into deeper trust or realignment? 🤔 What would it look like to see this season as an open door rather than a closed one? 🤔 🙌Prayer: Father, thank You that Your correction is always rooted in love. Forgive me for the times I’ve mistaken Your guiding hand for rejection. Help me to trust that when You close a door, You are not pushing me away but drawing me nearer to Your heart. Teach me to see Your “No” as an invitation to deeper restoration. Heal my perspective so I can walk in joy, even in redirection. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

If you asked me what the best part of my life is, I wouldn’t need to think twice. It’s my little family. Always. They are my safe place, my joy, my reason to keep going on the hard days. No matter where life takes me or what we go through, they are the part of my story I will treasure forever.   When the shadows once pressed in and suicidal thoughts whispered their lies, my dearest husband and sons became the anchor that kept me from drifting away. They gave me a reason to keep fighting when my own hope felt too thin to hold on to. And when I broke, they stood close enough to hear the cracks, to hold me through the fireball of pain, and to believe with me for the healing I was desperate for.   By God’s grace, I have come a long way since those rock-bottom days, though the journey is still unfolding. Today, my circle is wider — my boys and the precious daughter-in-law who has joined our family make my heart brim with joy. Their laughter fills the rooms that once echoed with silence, and their love reminds me that life can be redeemed.   Yet, above all, I am grateful that Christ has been with me through it all — every tear, every prayer, every small step forward. He is faithful to complete the work He began in me. 📖 "Being confident of this very thing, that He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ." — Philippians 1:6 (NKJV)   💡Reflection: Who are the people God has used to anchor you in your storms? 🤔 What moments with them would you like to treasure more intentionally? 🤔 How have you seen Christ’s hand weaving restoration in your family story? 🤔   🙌Prayer: Lord Jesus, thank You for my family, for the love that keeps me anchored, and for the hope that never runs dry in You. Thank You for walking with me through the darkest valleys and for bringing me into places of light and laughter again. Continue to heal what is still tender, and make my life a testimony of Your unfailing faithfulness. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

This is the bitter taste of what has been unfolding in our own fellowship. Our pastor, after being pressured to step back from acting senior pastor into the associate role, has been on extended leave since mid-May. From the pulpit, it is announced he has not been asked to resign; behind the scenes, the pressure builds, the walls close in, and the unspoken message is clear: you are not welcome to return. The whispers in my spirit grow louder — this is not about shepherding, it is about seizing position. 📖 "The good shepherd gives His life for the sheep." — John 10:11 (NKJV). A good shepherd lays himself down for the flock, not for ambition, not for control. When leaders protect their own power instead of protecting the sheep, they reveal their hearts more clearly than any title could. My heart aches, not just for Pastor David, but for the flock left to wander in confusion. May we have the courage to see what is before us and the faith to remember that no scheme of man can overthrow the Kingdom of God. The Lord will not be mocked, and He will raise up those who walk in humility and truth. Prayer Lord, give us eyes to see through deception and hearts that cling to Your truth. Protect the shepherds who serve You with integrity, and expose the works of darkness that seek to harm Your people. Keep my own heart free from bitterness, and teach me to speak truth in love, even when it costs me. In Jesus’ Name, Amen. You are not alone in seeing. God sees. And His justice, though sometimes slow in our eyes, is always perfect.

It used to ache in places I couldn’t name when friends or family didn’t offer their support. I would pour my heart and soul into something, quietly hoping for a kind word, a spark of encouragement, or even just a hint that they saw my effort. Too often, what I received instead was silence… or worse, subtle discouragement that dimmed the joy of what I was building.   Then I came across these words: "You know why strangers support you more than people you know? 🤔 Because people you know have a hard time accepting that you guys came from the same place, yet they're in the same place."   It was as if the Holy Spirit flicked on a light in my understanding. Their silence wasn’t proof that my work lacked value. It was proof that my growth had quietly unsettled them. We came from the same starting point, yet I’d chosen to step into unfamiliar waters — waters they were not ready, or willing, to enter.   They remember the “old me”— the unsure girl, the one who made mistakes, who didn’t yet walk with the confidence God has since built in me. To embrace the “new me” would mean they’d have to shift their perspective… and maybe face why they’ve chosen to stay the same. That is not an easy mirror to look into.   Strangers, however, meet me here, in the now. They see the fruit of my labour without comparing it to my past. They celebrate my courage without measuring it against their own journey. Their encouragement is free of competition or history — it’s simply joy in seeing another rise.   So I no longer carry the weight of expecting applause from the familiar. I’ve learnt that my journey doesn’t need permission to be valid. If the people closest to me aren’t ready to clap, I will keep clapping for myself… and listen for the applause of Heaven. 📖 "Commit your works to the Lord, and your thoughts will be established." — Proverbs 16:3 (NKJV) 💡Reflection: How do I usually respond when someone I love doesn’t support my dreams? 🤔 In what ways might their silence have more to do with them than with me? 🤔 Where have I seen God bring unexpected encouragement from strangers? 🤔   🙌Prayer: Lord, thank You for reminding me that my worth and calling are not dependent on the applause of others. Teach me to release the need for validation from those who cannot yet see what You are doing in me. Help me walk with confidence, knowing that Heaven celebrates every step I take in obedience to You. May my journey be a testimony that inspires, whether in silence or in song. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Some of the hardest moments in life are when doors slam shut, especially if they’re doors we desperately wanted to walk through. Rejection can feel like a wound to the soul. Opposition can feel personal, unfair, even cruel. Yet, if we zoom out to the heavenly perspective, we begin to see something astonishing: sometimes the very people who try to push us away are unknowingly pushing us into the exact place God has prepared for us.   Joseph’s story is one of my favourite reminders. His brothers’ betrayal was wicked and undeserved, yet it was the stepping stone that led him to Egypt and, eventually, to the role of Prime Minister. 📖 "You meant evil against me; but God meant it for good." — Genesis 50:20 (NKJV). If their plot had actually thwarted God’s plan, He would have never allowed it. No betrayal, injustice, delay, or detour can override what God has ordained.   When we resist the Holy Spirit’s promptings, God, in His mercy, will often shut the door Himself. Sometimes that closed door is not punishment—it’s redirection. It’s His way of saying, “Daughter, the way ahead is different from what you’ve imagined, but it is far better than you think.”   Rejection is not the end of your story. It’s the turning of a page. If you’re walking through an unexpected no right now, perhaps it is His “go” into the next chapter. Trust that His hands are steady on the pen, writing a story for your good and His glory.   💡Reflection: Where have I taken rejection or opposition personally when it may have been God’s redirection? 🤔 What closed doors in my past now make sense in hindsight?🤔 How can I choose to trust God’s plan today, even when I don’t understand it?🤔 🙌Prayer: Father, thank You for being the Author of my story and the Guardian of my steps. Help me to trust that no plan of Yours can be thwarted and that even the actions of those against me can become the very thing You use to move me into my purpose. Heal my heart from wounds of rejection and help me to see them through the lens of Your love and sovereignty. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

No one talks much about the freeze response. It isn’t loud. It isn’t messy. It doesn’t turn heads in a crowded room. It looks like someone still going to work. Still replying to messages. Still smiling at the right moments. But inside? Numb. Disconnected. Dissociated.

The lunch table at The Crate was unusually loud today. By 1:45, the chatter had faded and only a few of us remained at our desks. I was focused on work when Elias appeared at my desk. I hadn’t even noticed him approach until he leaned over and asked if I’d been “kicked off” the desk next to Roland. I explained that Debbie had moved in yesterday and, with the joy of a flexi desk, those of us who are part-time get to relocate for the full-timers. Interestingly, he had also stopped by my desk yesterday during his lunch in the same way with a question I can't remember. Two days in a row — that's  shift from months of near silence.  As I walked past him after filling up my water bottle in the kitchen, I mustered up the courage to ask him about his progress with the walking preparation for his holiday next month. We had a brief conversation before I returned to my desk. Later, this evening, I joined Clive for drinks at The Crate. While The Gathering was in full swing downstairs, I retreated upstairs to the massage chairs for ten minutes, then settled into my “thinking chair” downstairs with The 15 Laws of Growth by John Maxwell. I’d just been reading how Maxwell touches base with his long-time assistant every single day of the year. In stark contrast, during my last months working with Elias, our connection had thinned to the point where we met at most once a month. If I’m honest, the struggle began almost a year ago, last September, when in a moment of frustration, I felt like the cat being kicked. The shock of it knocked my confidence, and in trying too hard to avoid making mistakes, I made more than usual — especially during the awards administration. That moment marked the beginning of a slow unravelling. From my chair, I could hear Helen giving her 10-minute hack on forgiveness. Her words landed close to home, especially regarding Elias. The past eleven months have been hard, but I no longer feel the need to flee when he’s near. I can even joke, laugh, and hold my ground without my heart racing. As I was leaving, Elias came down the passage, arms outstretched for a hug. Then he told me my replacement had “pulled a runner.” I replied that I was sorry to hear it and hoped he’d find a new replacement soon. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, “because we have systems.” I hope your systems are good enough" I replied as he walked away. I couldn’t help but smile at the irony — those were the systems I had built and never received feedback on until Clive came home from The Gathering last week saying Elias had noted I'd done a great job. It stubg because the affirmation came in a way that didn’t allow me to receive it directly, from the person who should have acknowledged my value when it mattered most. Perhaps he has begun to realise what he let go. Perhaps hearing Helen speak on forgiveness stirred something. Perhaps it was simply a moment of unexpected humanity. 🤔 Whatever the reason, I walked away surprised by the encounter, but at peace. 📖 “A man who has friends must himself be friendly, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.” — Proverbs 18:24 (NKJV) Forgiveness doesn’t always mean restoration of the relationship, but it does mean freedom — freedom from bitterness, from the weight of unanswered questions, from the sting of being undervalued. And in that freedom, I am learning that leadership without connection is just management, and systems without relationship are just structure without life. 💡Reflection Prompt: Where have I been part of a “team” but left feeling unseen? 🤔 What small, consistent actions can I take to nurture the relationships that matter — even in virtual spaces? 🤔 🙌Prayer: Lord, thank You for the grace to forgive and for the quiet progress You’ve been working in my heart. Teach me to value connection over convenience, relationship over routine. Help me lead with intentionality and keep the flames of trust and belonging alive wherever I serve. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.