The line between self care vs self indulgence can feel blurry. We've all been there: skipping a workout for an extra hour of sleep, ordering takeout instead of cooking, or binge-watching another series when we should be addressing our responsibilities. Self-care practices offer real benefits, of course. Mental Health First Aid found that self-care results in improved self-confidence (64%), boosted productivity (67%), and greater happiness (71%). But how would someone know if

Rising Through The Fire Blog Series — Final Chapter There was a time I thought the fire was proof of failure. Proof that I wasn’t praying right. Proof that I wasn’t strong enough. Proof that I deserved what was happening. I used to look at my life and see trauma stacked so high it felt like identity. Depression. Grief. Spiritual confusion. Abandonment. Self-doubt. Faith that felt fractured. And somewhere in all of it, I started believing those things were me. Not experiences.

Feeling Ignored by God? Listen....... There is a kind of silence that feels peaceful. And then there is the kind that feels like punishment. For years, I have prayed. Not casually. Not performatively. Not spiritually poetic. I have begged. I have cried out. I have asked for healing. For clarity. For a break. Because it has been nonstop for seven years and counting — trauma stacked on trauma, grief layered over grief, pain compounding without pause. And the response? Silence.

“Just because no one sees it doesn’t mean it’s not real.” For a long time, people thought I was okay.  Not just okay — thriving.  They saw my humor.  They saw my personality.  They saw the version of me that made rooms lighter, conversations easier, and moments more enjoyable.  That version of me was infectious. It drew people in. It made them laugh. It made them feel good.  What most people didn’t know was that it was also a mask.  And it was intentional.    The Battles That