“I want my Isaac, not my Ishmael.” That sentence has lived in my spirit for a little while now. Not because I think I’m above heartbreak. Not because I’m bitter. Not because I’m pretending my story didn’t shape me. But because I finally understand what happens when we try to fulfill promises in our own timing instead of trusting God’s. (Quick little encouragement before you read this: if you have time, go read Genesis chapters 16 through 21 first. The story of Abraham, Sarah

Around the age of 25 or so, I remember clear as day the sudden revelation just hitting me softly, yet urgently. TIME. 🕰️ I had prayed...

It was around 5am one spring morning, in my early years of walking with The Lord. I sat in a puddle of tears after a long night and a...